My Cold Alpha Regrets His Rejection Too Late, I'm An Alpha Now!

Jack uttered those words right to my face. "I, Alpha of the Moonstone Pack, reject you as my mate and Luna." Though my wolf—the wolf I had only just awakened—howled in agonizing pain inside my mind, I forced myself to maintain my dignity. "I accept your rejection," I whispered. I was so sorry that she had to endure this agony the moment she awakened. But she recovered quickly, gently comforting me before retreating back into the shadows of my mind. Having just returned from the cemetery, David, the werewolf warrior assigned to protect me, stood in the foyer of the penthouse, waiting for me to pack my things. My access to the Packhouse had already been revoked. I had to register at the gate and wait for David's confirmation just to be let inside. Gamma Cole nodded to me, opening a checklist. "Luna Emily, your belongings have been sorted into three categories." "First, public display mementos." He pointed to a gray plastic bin in the center of the living room. "Wedding photos, matching rings, banquet gowns, and jewelry worn for public appearances. The retention period has expired. They are now classified as assets to be destroyed." A red barcode was slapped on the bin: *TO BE DESTROYED*. I stared at the wedding photo inside. That photo was the result of me begging Jack. Werewolves didn't really have a tradition of taking wedding photos. But having grown up in the human world with my mother, I had always dreamed of having one. Fortunately, Jack had been in a decent mood that day and agreed. In the photo, Jack stood by my side in a black suit, his expression cold and distant. My smile, however, was incredibly cautious. I remember the photographer saying, "Bride, you can move a little closer." But the moment I took half a step toward him, Jack whispered a cold warning: "Emily, we only need to cooperate for the camera. Don't cross the line." That day, I thought I was smiling gracefully. Looking at it now, my face was filled with nothing but desperate supplication. I had been caught in the rain, and my lower abdomen throbbed with a dull, pulling pain. Enduring the ache, I asked, "What is the second category?" Gamma Cole continued reading. "Second, non-essential traces of living. This includes slippers, handwritten sticky notes, herbal medicine books, tableware..." He picked up a sealed bag. Inside were the handwritten labels I had made for Jack's medicine. I remembered that night. Jack had returned in the early hours with an infected wound. It was only when I examined him that I realized there were traces of silver dust in it. He didn't want to alarm the rest of the pack, so I stayed up searching through medicine chests to whip up a temporary herbal remedy for him. He had looked at me briefly, then at the herbs on his wound. "You have a talent for this." That single look was something I cherished for a very long time. As it turned out, what I remembered was a heartbeat of love. But what he kept track of was... "risk." "And what is the third category?" Gamma Cole paused. "Pregnancy medical records." My fingertips froze. He continued. "Ultrasound scans, prenatal checkup handbooks, miscarriage records, and post-surgery prescriptions. The system has determined that these files could trigger emotional disputes and unnecessary trouble. We need your confirmation on whether to hand them over to the Moonstone Pack's medical department to be archived or destroyed." I stood frozen, unable to speak. To them, even the child who never had a chance to be born was just a "medical record." Just then, the door opened. Jack walked in, bringing the cold scent of rain with him. He scanned the living room, his gaze landing on my trembling shoulders. "Why are you soaked?" He turned his head to David. "Get a warm towel." David returned quickly. Jack took the towel, walked over to me, and draped it over my shoulders. My eyes stung fiercely. He was always like this. He could remember that I hated the cold, that my stomach acted up, and all of my tiny physical weaknesses. Yet, he could never remember that my heart could bleed too. Gamma Cole stepped closer, holding up the box of medicine. "Alpha Jack, should this old medicine and the handwritten labels be destroyed?" Jack glanced at it, barely hesitating. "Keep the medicine. Her health is poor. She can only take this brand when her stomach hurts; any other brand makes her throw up." My heart clenched violently. He remembered. I looked up at him. Jack caught my gaze. But in the next second, his expression turned cold and indifferent. "It was written in her medical records." He adjusted the towel around my shoulders, his voice flat and steady. "Let's speed up the liquidation. It's better for both of us." Last night, I was still standing outside his study, begging him not to break our mate bond. Today, that study door was wide open. The room inside was so pristine and empty, as if I had never existed in his life. Gamma Cole handed me the clipboard. "Luna Emily, what is your decision regarding these items?" I bent down and picked up the old wooden suitcase my mother had left me. I didn't spare another glance at the sticky notes, the rings, or the wedding photos. I looked straight into Jack's eyes. "Destroy them." Something flickered deep in Jack's eyes. I forced a smile. "Since they are all 'risk residues,' there's no point in keeping them."At 8:00 AM the next day, David's call came right on time. "Luna Emily, there is a meeting today that you must attend. It concerns your mother's belongings." Two years ago, my mother was terminally ill. Suddenly, she called me to her bedside and handed me an agreement. "Emily, sign this. Once you do, no one will dare to touch you again." Looking at the name *Alpha Jack* on the contract, I was filled with confusion. What was the connection between my mother and the Moonstone Pack? What had she sacrificed to secure this deal? She told me nothing. I only knew the basic terms: I would receive the protection of the Moonstone Pack under the status of his Luna, and the mate bond would be dissolved after two years. Upon dissolution, Jack would pay me a sum of money large enough to guarantee my financial independence. During the agreement, neither party was allowed to have offspring. Two years. Once the contract expired, we would go our separate ways, completely untangled. I had asked her why. She had only stared at me, her eyes heavy with a deep, crushing exhaustion. "Don't ask, Emily. Just promise me." When I signed my name, I thought I was being perfectly rational. Only later did I realize that the one who falls in love first is always the biggest fool in a contract. At 10:00 AM, I pushed open the door to the top-floor conference room of the Moonstone Pack headquarters. Three Elders sat around the long conference table. At the head of the table sat Alpha Jack. To his right was Olivia Vance, the Beta of the Moonstone Pack. She was also the woman Jack had held an umbrella for on the day of my mother's death anniversary. Dressed in a pristine, stark white suit, Olivia spoke with a subtle sneer. "Luna Emily, please sit. This is just standard procedure. No need to be nervous." I took my seat. A thick folder was placed in front of me. *Risk Assessment Report on the Termination of Relationship with Emily Foster.* An Elder opened the file. "Alpha Jack, monitoring from this month shows that Luna Emily’s emotional dependency levels spiked abnormally three times." "Does she currently meet the criteria for a complete detachment?" Coldness seeped into my veins, inch by inch. Their conversation made me feel like an asset that was about to be liquidated and cleared from the books. I turned to look at Jack. He wore a dark gray suit. His expression was cold and composed, his fingers resting casually on the table. Olivia flipped open the report, her voice ruthlessly clinical. "I'd like to add a point. Luna Emily, many women mistake protective protocols for love." "The Moonstone Pack is helping you complete this detachment now so you can regain your independence and freedom." My stomach cramped painfully. I instinctively clutched my lower abdomen. It had been less than two weeks since my miscarriage, and the raw pain hadn't fully faded. Jack's gaze fell on my trembling hand. Frowning, he interrupted Olivia. "Get her a warm drink." Soon, a warm cup of tea was placed in front of me. He was always like this—giving me a hand just as I was about to collapse, only to push me back into the abyss a moment later. The Elder continued questioning. "Regarding Luna Emily's emotional breakdown due to her accidental miscarriage last month, will this pose a potential risk to the pack in the future?" My entire body went rigid. Jack's face darkened instantly. I thought he would lose his temper. But he simply tapped his fingers on the table. "Skip this section." "Alpha Jack, a risk assessment must be complete—" "I said, skip it." His voice was ice-cold and unyielding. I picked up the warm drink and forced myself to take a sip. When the meeting ended, I signed the final confirmation document. One by one, people left the room. Soon, only Jack and I were left. I capped my pen and stood up. "Jack." His hand, which had been adjusting his cufflinks, paused. I stared at him. "Over the past two years... was there ever a single moment where I wasn't just a clause in that contract to you?" Jack remained silent for a long time. Finally, he raised his eyes, his tone completely controlled. "Don't dwell on meaningless things, Emily." In that instant, my breath caught in my throat. It turned out that every single day of pain I had endured was completely meaningless to him.I rented a dilapidated apartment. The landlord tossed the keys onto a wooden table. "Rent is paid every three months. Utilities are on you. The corner gets damp when it rains." I nodded and paid him. The place was tiny, the wallpaper was moldy, and the windows didn't close properly. But at least I didn't need a Moonstone Pack keycard to enter. And no one would keep a record of what time I slept, what time I woke up, who I saw, or how many times I cried. That night, I opened the suitcase my mother had left me. At the very bottom, beneath everything else, lay two torn pieces of paper. Next to them was a small note in my mother's handwriting: "Emily, do not read this until you have completely left Moonstone. Never beg for love with the truth." The other piece of paper was completely blank. But the moment I smelled it, I knew what it was. It was the concealment method my mother and I used most often. Only my mother and I knew the formula for the revealing solution. I put on gloves, mixed the chemical solution, and gently brushed it over the edges of the paper. The slightly sour scent of the solution drifted into the air. I was painfully familiar with this smell. After we got married, I used to spend hours in the herbal medicine room researching formulas. Sometimes, Jack would walk in and adjust the harsh white light above my head to a warm, gentle glow. I was terrified of thunder. On stormy nights, he would change his meetings to Snapchat voice calls, sitting in the living room to work. Whenever thunder rumbled, I would look up and see his broad back. That silhouette had given me so many illusions. I actually thought that was companionship. Until the day I asked him: "Jack, can we have dinner together this weekend? Just the two of us, not for some business event." He had looked at my reflection in the mirror, adjusting his tie, and said indifferently: "Emily, don't mistake cohabitation courtesy for intimacy." Then, I got pregnant. I foolishly thought this child would make things different between us. But Olivia's messages only flooded in faster, day after day on Snapchat. *Pregnancy Emotional Independence Recommendation.* *Risk Warning: Unnecessary Companionship.* *Protocol Relationship Boundary Reminder.* Every single word felt like a slap in the face, telling me I was crossing the line. The day of my miscarriage, it was pouring rain. I was shivering in agonizing pain. I called Jack seventeen times. On the eighteenth try, the call finally went through. But it was Olivia's voice on the other end of the FaceTime. She was perfectly calm. "Alpha Jack is busy dealing with an emergency." "Luna Emily, please contact the medical team and follow the protocol. Do not waste the Alpha's time." I wanted to tell her I was bleeding. I wanted to tell her how much it hurt. But the line went dead. When Jack finally rushed back, standing by my hospital bed, his face was terrifyingly pale. But his very first words were: "Why didn't you follow the safety protocols? Why did you go out alone without guards?" By then, the baby was already gone. My body was completely drained of strength; I was barely holding onto life. I stared at the ceiling and asked him, "Jack, will I always be secondary to your protocols?" He fell silent for a long time. Finally, he reached out and tucked the blanket around me. "At least the protocols won't hurt you." My hands froze. I snapped back from my memories. As the solution peeled back the hidden layer of the paper, a sharp, familiar signature was revealed at the bottom. *Jack.* My hand shook, and the blade cut into my fingertip. Ignoring the sting of the pain, I stared blankly at his name. How could it be him? [Paid Node]As the first layer was peeled back, a contract was revealed within the hidden compartment. *Asset and Identity Isolation Protection Agreement.* Dated two years ago. The agreement spelled out everything clearly. My father possessed an ancient, powerful werewolf bloodline, which was the very reason he was hunted and killed. My mother had spent years running and hiding with me. But eventually, word leaked out. We faced threats, stalkers, and break-ins. So, she traded the secret of our bloodline to Jack in exchange for two years of absolute protection for me. Once I turned twenty-two, my own wolf would awaken, and I would finally have the power to protect myself. I stared at the lines of text, my fingers trembling violently. So that was the truth. My mother had refused to tell me anything because she was carrying such a heavy burden. She hadn't suddenly thrown me to a strange man. She had used her very last bargaining chip to buy me a chance to survive. *Clause 7: During the marriage, no offspring shall be permitted.* *Clause 9: Upon termination of the agreement, Jack must pay Emily Foster a compensation sum of no less than eight figures.* And in the addendum, there was a handwritten note: "Two years from now, regardless of the Moonstone Pack's political situation, Emily must be allowed to leave the pack and regain her absolute freedom." My mother hadn't sold me out. She was using her final breath to secure my escape route. Staring at the clause forbidding offspring, a sharp pain pierced my chest. It turned out that from the very beginning of the agreement, that child was never supposed to exist. We both crossed the line. Only, he later pretended that the boundary had never been breached. I continued peeling back the paper. Beneath the second thin layer lay the *Emotional Isolation Addendum*. *Clause 1: Do not respond to any emotional expressions from Emily Foster that exceed the scope of the agreement.* *Clause 2: If she develops emotional dependency, actively enforce a cold-shoulder policy.* *Clause 3: On the day of expiration, Jack must initiate the termination. No softness, no explanations.* On the final page, there were two lines written in Jack's own handwriting. "All warmth is strictly limited to protective needs." "I promise, I will never fall for her." Staring at those words—*I will never fall for her*—I wanted to laugh. So all those cherished moments I held so close to my heart had already been defined and packaged as mere 'protocols.' I forced myself to peel back the very last page. It was the *Emotional Monitoring Report of Emily Foster*. There were monthly records, each bearing Jack's signature. And each one was stamped with Olivia's seal of approval. The words burned my eyes. *Month 3: Signs of attachment detected. Cold-shoulder policy enforced.* *Month 7: Subject crossed the boundary and entered the study. Warning issued.* ... My fingers stopped on the page. Just the night before, I had stood outside his study, begging him not to reject me. It turned out that his long silence was just him calculating the best "protocol-approved" script to use on me. Every single month, I was monitored, reviewed, assessed, and systematically cut out of his life. At the very bottom of the last page, a line had been chemically erased. I applied more of the revealing solution, letting it soak into the fibers. Slowly, the handwriting bled through. *Month 12: Jack exhibits signs of reverse dependency.* *Behavior: Unprompted companionship increased, shows high concern for her diet and sleep, altered schedule to accompany her to prenatal checkups.* *Assessment: Suspected emotional compromise.* *Action Plan: Olivia to intervene and orchestrate Emily's voluntary withdrawal.* And the final line was a handwritten note from Jack himself: "Do not let her know." I stared at those five words. Strangely, my heart went entirely quiet. He did love me. But every single time he was on the verge of loving me, he chose to hurt me first. Suddenly, the door of my dilapidated apartment was slammed open. Jack stood at the threshold, his face deathly pale. His eyes locked onto the papers scattered across the table, his voice incredibly hoarse. "Emily... don't look at that." Olivia stepped out from behind him. She looked at me, a cold, mocking smile playing on her lips. "Why shouldn't she look, Alpha Jack?" "Hasn't she always wanted to know if you ever loved her? I left that report behind on purpose." I ignored her entirely. Slowly, I stood up and looked Jack straight in the eye. "So you did love me. Yet, you still repeated the script they wrote for you, forcing me to give up on you with your own lips. Tell me, Jack... is that true?"