His Luna’s Rejection, Her Alpha’s Mistake

Chapter Three

Della left the pack house and slid into her car without looking back. Her hands clenched the steering wheel as she turned the key, the engine roaring to life. The tyres screeched as she accelerated, leaving the dust of her old life behind.

Her gaze was fixed straight ahead, a steely determination in her eyes. She refused to let a single tear fall, refusing to give Xavier the satisfaction of her pain. His betrayal, especially with an omega, was bad enough, but the news of the pregnancy had shattered any remaining hope she had for their future together. For years, they had tried to have their baby, and this was how he wanted to be. Della had given her life to a man who she thought was her one and only. They had sworn their love and promises under the moon and in front of their loved ones and pack members. She knew that Xavier was a fool to choose anyone over her, and the moon goddess would surely punish him for his terrible actions.

The wind whipped through her hair as she sped down the familiar roads, the familiar sights blurring into a haze of memories. Della's heart weighed heavy with the ache of betrayal, but she refused to let it consume her. She was not weak, and she was not a pawn in Xavier's tangled web of lies and deceit.

With every mile passed, Della felt the chains that bound her to Xavier and the pack slowly beginning to unravel. She was done playing by someone else's rules, done with being trapped in a love that was nothing but a facade.

As the pack house faded into the distance behind her, Della felt a sense of both sadness and relief. The ghosts of her past would always linger, but she was determined to forge a new path, one that she would carve out on her terms. She would build a life for herself, reclaiming her independence and her sense of self in the process.

The unshed tears in Della's eyes shimmered with mixed emotions - not just despair or regret, but also a glimmer of hope and determination. She knew the road ahead would be tough, filled with uncertainty and challenges, but she was ready to face them head-on. And as she drove further into the distance, the fire in her eyes burned bright with the promise of a new beginning.

The city skyline loomed in the distance as Della drove towards her destination, the skyscrapers reaching the sky like jagged teeth. The familiar sights and sounds of urban life surrounded her, starkly contrasting the serenity of the pack house she had left behind. As she navigated the bustling streets, her mind was a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts.

Della's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as she approached a neon-lit petrol station on the city's outskirts. The gas gauge blinked ominously, reminding her of the need to refuel. Pulling into the station, she parked her car next to a row of fuel pumps and stepped into the cool evening air.

Lost in her thoughts, Della failed to notice the figure approaching her from the shadows. A tall, enigmatic stranger emerged from the darkness, his features obscured by the dim light of the petrol station. Della's heart quickened as she instinctively tensed, her guard raised at the unexpected intrusion.

"Hey there, do you need a hand?" the stranger's voice was low and smooth, sending a shiver down Della's spine. She realised she must have looked crazy standing there, lost in her thoughts. She turned to face him, her eyes meeting his piercing gaze. Gasping in surprise, she couldn't take her eyes off him. Something about him drew her in, a magnetic pull she couldn't resist.

"Um, I'm fine, thank you," Della replied cautiously, looking away, but her voice betrayed a hint of vulnerability.

The stranger's lips curved into a knowing smile, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Are you sure about that?" he questioned, his tone laced with mystery. Della hesitated, unsure how to respond to this mysterious stranger who seemed to see through her defences.

Before she could reply, the stranger reached out a hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her. Della's breath caught in her throat as he gently brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, his touch surprisingly tender.

"Let me help you," he offered, his gaze unwavering. Della's heart raced with uncertainty, torn between caution and curiosity. There was something about this stranger that intrigued her, a sense of possibility and intrigue that she couldn't ignore.

Unable to find her tongue, Della nodded in agreement. The stranger flashed her a captivating smile before taking the fuel nozzle from her hand, his touch igniting a spark within her. As he refuelled her car with practised ease, Della watched him with fascination.

As the fuel pump clicked off, signalling that the tank was complete, the stranger turned to face Della again. In the glow of the petrol station lights, his features were cast in shadows, adding to his air of mystery.

"Thank you," Della murmured gratefully, her voice barely above a whisper. The stranger's smile widened, revealing a glimmer of warmth beneath his enigmatic exterior.

"It was my pleasure," he replied cryptically, his words tinged with intrigue. Before Della could probe further, he stepped back into his car and gave her a wink as he roared off.

Della was stunned by his random act of kindness and went to pay for her fuel. And she picked up some munchies and a couple of water bottles since she had left packhouse with barely anything.

As she climbed back into her car, she gazed at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Della's mind was abuzz with questions and thoughts. Who was the stranger? What had drawn him to her in that moment of vulnerability?

She started the engine and shook her head in amusement. Suddenly, her phone vibrating in her purse jolted her back to reality. She fished it out and saw a text message from Xavier, the man who had shattered her heart into a million pieces, the man she was driving away from at that very moment.

The message read, "Della, please, let's talk. I know I messed up, but I love you. We can work through this. Please don't shut me out."

Della's hands trembled as she read the words, the pain of his betrayal fresh in her mind. The surge of emotions threatened to overwhelm her, but then she remembered the mysterious stranger from the petrol station, the enigmatic figure who had sparked a glimmer of hope in her heart.

“Go to hell. We're over! You f****d up big time!” she replied and then deleted Xavier's message. She chucked the phone out the window, officially cutting the ties that bound her to a past filled with hurt and deceit.

As she drove from the petrol station, the city lights shimmered like beacons of hope in the darkness. The wind of change brushed against her, carrying with it the whispers of untold adventures and new horizons waiting to be explored.

Della continued to drive. The events of the day had left her drained, emotionally and physically. She needed a break, a moment of peace, to gather her thoughts and plan her next steps.

As she navigated the unfamiliar streets, a sign caught her eye - "Rosewood Motel - Vacancy". Without hesitation, Della pulled into the parking lot of the modest motel, the glow of the neon sign casting an eerie light in the darkness of the night.

Stepping out of her car, Della stretched her tired muscles and gathered her belongings, heading towards the motel office. The door creaked open as she entered, a small bell tinkling to announce her presence. The reception area was dimly lit, the smell of old wood and musty carpet filling the air.

A middle-aged man with a gruff demeanour sat behind the front desk, his eyes flicking up to meet hers as she approached. "Can I help you?" he asked, his tone brusque and businesslike.

"I'm looking for a room for the night," Della replied, her voice tinged with weariness.

The man nodded, fingers clacking away at the keyboard as he checked for availability. After a moment, he looked up and handed her a key. "Room 17, down the hall to your left. Cash only," he grunted.

After paying, Della took the key and went down the dimly lit hallway, the worn carpet muffling her footsteps. Room 17 was a simple affair - a queen-sized bed, a small table, and a threadbare armchair. The musty smell of old cigarettes lingered in the air, but Della was too exhausted to care.

She flopped onto the bed, the mattress creaking beneath her weight. The day's events played through her mind like a broken record, the pain of Xavier's betrayal still fresh in her heart. But as exhaustion pulled at her eyelids, Della pushed the memories away.

As she drifted off to sleep, a soft rustling sound caught her attention. Groggily, Della sat up, squinting into the darkness. Was someone in the room with her? Her heart hammered in her chest as she tried to make out what was happening.

"Who's there?" she called out, her voice trembling with anxiety.