After My Mate Rejected Me, I Claimed a Rogue King

The music in the pack hall was deafening, a throbbing bass that seemed to mock the pounding of my own heart. Tonight was supposed to be my triumph. My eighteenth birthday. The night I finally shifted, finally heard the voice of my wolf, and finally took my place beside Nolan Tucker as the future Luna of the Tucker Pack.

But as I stood near the punch bowl, smoothing the fabric of my simple white dress, I felt nothing. No itch beneath my skin. No whisper in my mind. Just the crushing weight of a thousand eyes, all waiting for the Beta’s daughter to fail.

"Drink up, Liv," a sweet voice purred beside me. Dakota Boyd pressed a crystal goblet into my hand. Her smile was dazzling, the kind that made you forget she was a rogue we’d taken in out of charity. "It’s a special blend. Elderflower and mint. It’ll help the shift come on."

I looked at her, my best friend. My only friend. "Are you sure? I feel… sick."

"Nerves," she dismissed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "Nolan is waiting for you to impress him. Don't let him down."

Nolan. I glanced across the room. He was standing with his father, Alpha Tucker, looking every inch the future leader. Broad shoulders, golden hair, eyes that usually held warmth but tonight seemed distant. He caught my eye and frowned, checking his watch. Time was running out.

I downed the drink in one gulp. It tasted sweet, cloying, with a bitter aftertaste that clung to my tongue.

Almost immediately, the room tilted. The lights smeared into long, blurry streaks. Heat, scorching and unnatural, bloomed in my stomach and raced through my veins. It wasn't the shift. I’d read every book on lycanthropy; the shift was pain and bone-breaking power. This was… haze. Fog. A drugging lethargy that made my knees buckle.

"Let's get you some air," Dakota whispered, her voice sounding miles away. She gripped my arm, her nails digging in hard enough to bruise. "Away from the noise. The wolf needs quiet."

She didn't lead me to the ceremonial chambers. She led me out the back door, into the cool night air of the forest. I tried to protest, to say that the pack laws required me to shift in the square, but my tongue felt like lead. The darkness swallowed us, and the last thing I remember was the smell of damp earth and Dakota’s perfume—sickly sweet vanilla masking something rotten.

***

I woke up to the sound of a door being kicked in.

Wood splintered, and harsh morning light flooded a room I didn't recognize. It wasn't my bedroom. It was a cabin, rough-hewn and smelling of pine and… something else. Something wild. Powerful. Like a storm trapped in a bottle.

I sat up, clutching a scratchy wool blanket to my chest. My head throbbed, a hangover from hell without the fun of the party. I looked to my left and froze.

A man was sleeping