Page 52 of Rejected by My Stepbrother Alpha (Billionaire Shifter Club #1)

V esper

The car slows to a stop in front of the house—the one Alexander and I have shared for the last two years.

It still feels strange calling it “home.”

The driver steps out and opens the door for me. I offer him a small smile, polite but distant. “Thank you,” I say softly, my voice barely making it past the lump in my throat.

I step out. The air feels heavier than usual. Maybe it’s just me.

The house is quiet as I walk in. A couple of the stewards near the bar and the kitchen lift their heads when they see me.

“Welcome, Mrs. Thane,” one of them says.

“Good evening, ma’am,” another one adds.

I nod at them, giving small smiles like I always do, but something’s different. I can feel it.

There’s something in the way they look at me. Not just polite or respectful. It’s… pitiful. Some of them avoid my eyes. Some smile a little too gently, like they’re trying not to hurt me with their gaze.

It hits me.

They’re looking at me like this might be the last time they’ll ever call me Mrs. Thane.

I keep walking, shoulders straight, heels clicking softly on the polished floor. I don’t flinch. But the dread is clawing at my chest now, growing bigger with every step.

I pass the bar. Another steward, one of the friendlier ones, steps forward. “Good evening, Mrs. Thane. Is there anything I can help you with?”

I almost shake my head. I should shake my head. But before I know it, the question slips out.

“Do you know where Mr. Thane is?”

He hesitates. That alone is enough to make my heart sink.

Then he answers, carefully. “He left a few hours ago. It’s my understanding he’s gone to his… mating ceremony, ma’am.”

The way he pauses before saying mating ceremony—it cuts deeper than the words themselves. Like even he knows how badly this stings.

I smile. It’s small. Forced. My head gives a stiff nod. “Thank you.”

And I keep moving. Up the stairs. Towards my room.

My hands feel cold. My chest tight.

Of course he went. I knew it was today. Everyone has. It’s been public knowledge ever since the Lunaris and Crimson packs made official announcements. But still… a small part of me was hoping I’d hear something different. That maybe—just maybe—he’d still be here.

That maybe he hadn’t gone.

Stupid.

So, so stupid.

I get to my room, shut the door behind me, and let out a breath.

“Who am I kidding?” I whisper into the empty room. My voice cracks just a little. The fated mate bond is a miracle, most shifters never meet their fated mate. Alexander must be overjoyed at discovering his. So for me to have any illusions that he would somehow not go is just plain nonsense.

I walk towards the small table by the window and spot a half bottle of wine from a few days ago. Maybe longer. Doesn’t matter.

I pour myself a glass. It doesn’t even taste that good. But I don’t care.

I sink into the bed, glass in hand, and grab the remote. I don’t even know what I’m looking for. Just something to not think. Something to drown the ache, even for a few minutes.

Channel after channel. Talk shows. Cartoons. A cooking show.

Nothing sticks.

I’m just about to turn the whole thing off when my finger freezes over the button.

The headline stretches across the bottom of the screen in bold red letters:

brEAKING: Shocker as Alpha of Lunaris pack stuns everyone by rejecting his Fated Mate Bond to Celeste Garcia

My heart stops.

What?

I sit up. My hand fumbles for the volume. I turn it up fast.

The reporter’s voice fills the room, rushed and breathless, like they can’t believe what they’re saying either.

“—in an unprecedented move, Alpha Alexander Thane has publicly rejected the fated mate bond during his ceremony with Celeste Garcia, daughter of Crimson Pack’s Alpha. This has sent shockwaves through both packs and the larger shifter community…”

The screen switches to a clip of the ceremony. I see Alexander standing tall in front of the crowd. His face is calm. Steady. Determined.

Then I hear his voice.

“I hereby reject the fated mate bond.”

Gasps ripple in the background of the video. People stunned. Voices rising in disbelief.

My eyes are glued to the screen. My heart is racing.

He actually did it.

He rejected his mate.

Because of me? Because of us? Maybe?

I press a hand to my chest, like I’m trying to steady it, but it’s no use.

“He did it…” I whisper, my voice trembling with hope I didn’t even know I still had. “He really did it.”

Tears burn behind my eyes, but they don’t fall.

I just keep staring at his face on the screen. Proud. Defiant. Unapologetic.

And in that moment, I know—

He chose me.

I can’t stop smiling. My cheeks actually hurt. I’m grinning like an idiot and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Alexander Thane stood in front of everyone—his family, his entire pack, Celeste’s father—and he said no.

I press both hands to my chest, like I’m trying to hold something in. But it’s impossible. My heart feels like it’s about to burst. There’s so much warmth spreading through me I could cry and laugh at the same time.

All this time… I thought I was the only one.

I thought I was foolish. I thought I was weak for falling for him when this marriage wasn’t even real.

But it became real, didn’t it?

Slowly. Quietly. In all the small ways.

The way he’d come home late but still peek into my room just to make sure I was asleep. The time he sat on the kitchen counter eating burnt cookies I made and told me they were “crunchy” on purpose.

I thought maybe I was imagining it all. But I wasn’t, was I. Maybe he feels it too. .

Why else would he risk everything like that?

I let out this breathless laugh. It sounds like disbelief and relief and joy all rolled into one.

“I love him.” It falls out of me. Natural. Sure. Steady.

And just like that, I know what I need to do.

“I’m going to tell him.”

I jump to my feet, nearly spilling my wine in the process. My pulse is racing. I haven’t felt this alive in… I don’t even remember the last time.

There’s no hesitation. I march to the door, fling it open, and practically fly down the stairs.

Everything feels different now. The air doesn’t feel so heavy. The house feels lighter. Warmer.

I spot a few stewards still lingering near the hall. One of them nearly does a double take when he sees me. Another quickly looks away, pretending to be busy rearranging a stack of towels that don’t need arranging.

And I know they’re all thinking the same thing. They’ve definitely heard the news.

They never thought this would happen. Not for me. Not for a halfblood with no real standing. But it has. And they can’t hide their surprise.

I don’t blame them.

I smile at them. For real this time. Not the tight, polite thing I usually wear when I pass them.

I head straight for the kitchen. Three stewards are in there, prepping dinner. They all glance up when I walk in.

“Good evening, Mrs. Thane,” one of them says cautiously.

I wave it off. “Take the night off, all of you.”

They exchange confused looks.

“I’ll handle the cooking tonight,” I add, already moving towards the fridge.

One of them starts to protest, “Ma’am, we can—”

“I want to,” I say, not unkindly. “It’s important.”

They understand. They don’t say anything else. Just nod, then quietly take their leave.

As soon as the door swings shut behind them, I roll up my sleeves and get to work.

I know exactly what I’m going to make.

Mashed potatoes. Roasted chicken. Gravy. And cocktails—his favorite ones. Long Islands.

He loves when I make them with just a little extra lemon. He never says it outright, but I’ve seen the way his eyes light up when he takes that first sip.

I pull out all the ingredients, and I start humming to myself as I work. I don’t even realize I’m smiling the whole time.

I move around the kitchen like I’ve been doing it forever. Like I belong here.

Because I do. I belong here. In this house. In his life.

I can barely stay still. I wipe my hands, rush upstairs, and hop into the shower.

The hot water hits my skin and I just stand there for a moment, eyes closed, letting it all soak in.

I step out and dry off quickly, reaching for the soft, satin nightdress I save for special days. It’s cream-colored and smooth and hugs me just right.

I spritz on my favorite scent—jasmine and sandalwood, the one he once told me smelled “Nice.”

I glance at myself in the mirror. My hair’s still damp, but I look… happy. Radiant.

And then I hear the low hum of a car engine rolling into the compound.

His car.

My heart skips. Then it speeds up, fast and full and reckless.

He’s here.

And tonight, I’m going to tell him everything.

I’m setting the last fork down when the nerves hit me full force.

My hands are shaking a little. I try to keep them steady as I adjust the napkin. Again. For the third time.

The table looks beautiful—warm lights, clean white plates, his drink just the way he likes it, everything hot and ready—but inside me, there’s a storm brewing.

What if I mess it up?

What if I freeze?

What if I open my mouth and nothing comes out?

I take a deep breath. I need to calm down. Just… breathe, Vesper.

But then I hear the door. The soft click of it opening. The heavy fall of his footsteps.

My whole body tenses, then softens again like it’s not sure what to do. I turn just in time to see him walking in.

He’s slow. Not lazy slow. Just… tired.

He always hides it well. Anyone else wouldn’t notice. But I do. I see it in the way his shoulders hang, just a little lower than usual. The faint line between his brows. The quiet way he moves.

His eyes land on me, and it feels like some kind of energy moves between us.

It’s subtle, but it flickers across his face. A softness, maybe. Or something deeper. Something I don’t think I’ve ever seen from him before.

He’s always so composed, unreadable. Like nothing ever gets under his skin. But right now, there’s something different in the way he’s looking at me.

Like longing.