Rejected Moon

Nik Connal has lived his life in the shadows, on borrowed time. As a rogue, he was supposed to be killed the moment he was exiled from his birth pack, rejected by his father, and condemned by all who knew him. Instead of sinking into despair, he gathered a pack of others like him and forged his own path, determined to make a difference, outside the pack hierarchy, yet always determined to find a home for himself and his pack. He lived a life of lies, did things he hated, all for a greater good.

Until he came face to face with the mate he was forced to reject.

Isa Sinclair knows what it's like to be abused and tortured, to be at the mercy of those stronger than her. Now that she is the number three enforcer in the Chesapeake Pack, she takes her duties as protector seriously. When she is asked to help those wolves abused by the Saranac Alpha, she willingly accepts, until she is confronted by a ghost from her past, a ghost she never expected to see again.

As Nik and Isa confront the mating bond that ties them together, can they navigate the dangers of their present, and overcome the pain of their past to find a new future, healed and whole together? Or will they fall back into despair, alone and broken? Rejected.

Motherfucker.
Nik watched the sand slowly trickle out of the punching bag. That was the third punching bag he had broken just that session. He had been cooling his heels at the council headquarters for over a week now. It had been three weeks since Victor Treadway had been killed. Two weeks since he had been summoned to Council headquarters. One week since he had actually complied. In the meantime, the Saranac pack had been in disarray, not to mention his pack, though some would argue a group of rogues could not be a pack and should be put down for the good of all shifters and humans.
He would tell them to bring it, and then he would fucking destroy them for daring to touch his pack. Okay, so maybe he was a little feral when it came to protecting those under him. Or maybe just feral.
The Saranac Pack bonds were broken, though some could argue the pack bonds had already been demolished by the sadist, Victor Treadway, and his band of merry goons. They had abused, tortured, and terrorized the pack for so many years that the wolves were already traumatized, but now, without the comfort of a pack bond and a true alpha leader, the wolves didn't know what to do or how to handle it. Though, no one could say Victor Treadway had been a true alpha. He’d been more of a bully and an asshole, to be sure. Saranac needed a true Alpha to lead them, heal them, and help them survive. Only there was no one left to take on the responsibility.
Nik, along with his small pack, had been working undercover in the Saranac Pack for two years, trying to figure out exactly how to take Treadway down at the request of the head of the Council Enforcers, and he’d done things, seen things, and heard things that had turned his stomach. Hopefully, it hadn’t been in vain. He prayed that he’d saved the pack from the brutality and brought them to a more positive era, but that depended on the Supreme Alpha, the Council, and whomever they assigned as the new Alpha. Saranac didn’t have anyone strong enough to take on that role outside of Nik, and he wasn’t technically part of the pack. He’d saved Victor’s daughter, but not before she had been tortured almost to the brink. There’d been too many other pack members he hadn’t been able to save at the risk of the greater mission, or so he’d been told.
It was little comfort to know that to consider the needs of the many, you sometimes had to sacrifice one. He fucking hated that saying. As an Alpha himself, though of a pack of rogues and not recognized by the Council or anyone else, he wanted to protect everybody. Not that he’d been raised that way. His Alpha, who was also his father, believed in the needs of one, namely himself, and what he wanted. He didn't care who he fucking hurt, including his mate, his sons, and anybody who got in his way, even those who supported him.
Nik shoved the thoughts of his father into the dark recesses of his mind and slammed the door on it. Lately, thoughts of his father had been coming more and more to the surface to torment him as if his father hadn’t tortured him enough in the past. Maybe it was being back at the Council headquarters, where he was likely to run into the man who was still on the Council as an Alpha, even if he was on the other coast. But all the Alphas were stuck here, called to witness the rise of a new Supreme Alpha.
The pack bonds of all the alphas were in disarray after the death of the previous Supreme Alpha, Simon Henry, who had been just as fucked up as Victor Treadway. He had betrayed their kind, allegedly to save his mate, but in reality, it had been to solidify a power base so he could remain in power beyond his lifespan. He’d been manipulated by Victor Treadway, but no one would know how willingly he had gone along or if that was even true. Based on what Simon had been saying, Nik would guess that Simon had been a willing participant, eager for power and twisted by the loss of his mate. So many people had been sacrificed, so many wolves, to their lust for power and their desire for control. Now, they were left to pick up the pieces.
Nik didn't give a goddamn shit about any of it. He just wanted what had been promised to him years ago when he had agreed to work for Caleb North and the Council enforcers. He had barely survived his father's rule. Barely escaped with his life. He’d been lucky. He had found a small band of rogues who probably should've been put down, which was the fate of all rogues, usually unable to survive without pack bonds to keep them sane. But his group had been different. They’d found a way to form a pack, a highly unusual one, that had kept them sane and had controlled their inner beasts, not allowing them to go loup, as most rogues did. They had flown under the radar for five years until their luck ran out. When Caleb had shown up, Nik had figured they were about to be put down as all rogues were supposed to be, but Caleb had had a different offer and a different plan.
He was known as a spider for the games he liked to play, and this time had been no different. He had had a twisted plan in mind. He had offered Nik and his pack a chance at redemption, a chance at life—if they would work for Caleb. They’d work for the Council performing ultra-covert missions, pretending to be rogues, pretending to be on the edge of society as outlaws and criminals, whatever it took to help Caleb get what he needed to take down the worst of their society. They would work outside the Council's purview, work outside what the Council and enforcers could actually do. They would do things that would turn their stomachs, but there would come a time when they would be rewarded. All Nik and his men wanted was a small patch of land where they could be left alone to be a pack and maybe have lives of their own, maybe attract a few females, raise some pups, and be fucking left alone. Caleb fucking owed him, and he’d better fucking pay off.
A scent tinged with the bitterness of anger drifted to him, along with a hint of something he was more familiar with. Fear. It was acrid and sour to his nose, and he fucking hated it. Over the past two years, he had become far too accustomed to it as Treadway’s enforcer and right arm. Even when he had tried to help people, they had watched him with wariness. He couldn’t wait for the peace and quiet and remoteness of the Alaskan wilderness, provided Caleb didn’t fuck them over.
Another scent floated on the bitter one with tones of jasmine, rose, and sandalwood, notes embedded in his memory for the past decade but lost to him until recently. It made the wolf inside him lunge against the stranglehold he had placed on him, almost tearing loose.
Nik froze, his hands bracing the punching bag still, his body rigid and stiff. He didn’t dare turn around, afraid of scaring away the interloper.
“I didn’t expect to see anyone in here this late.” Her voice was husky and caressed his nerve endings, making him want something he would never have. His cock stirred, something he was quickly becoming accustomed to after years when it had seemed to have gone dormant.
“I couldn’t sleep.” He slowly turned around to face the female whose screams had haunted his nightmares since that horrible night, more than ten years ago. “I can go if you want the space.”
Isabelle Sinclair, third in the Chesapeake pack, stood in the gym doorway dressed in black leggings and a T-shirt. She hugged herself, betraying her tension despite her carefully blank face. She looked anywhere but at him, her gaze darting around the spacious room filled with workout equipment and sparring mats. Caleb had spared no expense for his enforcers, ensuring they were well-prepared for anything they faced on the job. Too bad Nik was slowly demolishing his stash of punching bags. He considered it his payment, since nothing else was coming to him or his team. At least not yet.
He held his breath as she seemed to consider her options. Then she straightened, her chin lifting as she met his gaze defiantly. “You don’t have to leave. I’m not afraid of you.”
He suppressed a smile and silently applauded her, the too-silent she-wolf who used to cower beneath the gazes of the males of the pack they had come from. “I never thought you were afraid of me. You will never have anything to be afraid of. I would never hurt you. I couldn’t.”
She snorted. “Bullshit. You forget, I know you, Nico. I’ve always known you. You may have the Council fooled with your reformed ways, but I grew up in your pack. I saw you. I know what’s in your blood. I know who you really are, deep down.”
Nik flinched, her words striking him like knives. She wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t exactly refute her words. He was Nico Constantine, son of one of the most traditional Alphas on the entire Council and one of the most brutal, save Treadway. His blood ran through Nik’s veins. His DNA had made Nik the man he was. His father’s actions had formed his entire early years. He’d made Nik, and, for worse, he was the voice inside of Nik’s mind and soul at all times, continuing the torment from his childhood.
Nik advanced on her slowly until he stood a few feet from her. “Believe me, I never forget who I am or where I came from. No one knows that better than I.” He let his gaze travel over her, the toned body, the fighter stance, the challenge in her gaze. “But you’re not the same Isabelle Sinclair from back then either, are you?”