Chapter 32: A Little Approval

Book:Rejected: Mated to Another Alpha Published:2025-2-8

Alison’s POV
The faint chill of the morning air brushed against my skin as I stood beside the bus, watching the castle staff hustle around me. Boxes of neatly packed food, wrapped in brown paper and tied with simple string, were being loaded into the vehicles. The faint clatter of footsteps, hushed voices, and the hum of engines filled the air as we worked to prepare for the trip.
I clasped my hands together, trying to steady the nervous energy that buzzed through me. Today mattered. I needed this to go well, not for my pride but for my survival in this pack.
“Excuse me, Miss Alison,” a timid voice called behind me.
I turned to see a young maid standing there, her hands clasped nervously in front of her apron. She couldn’t have been more than Twelve, her wide brown eyes filled with both fear and duty.
“Yes?” I said softly, kneeling slightly so I was closer to her eye level.
“Lady Katherine requests your presence,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
My stomach dropped. “Where is she?”
The maid pointed up to the grand balcony that overlooked the castle grounds. My eyes followed her finger, and there Katherine stood, regal and distant, watching everything below like a queen surveying her kingdom. Her icy expression didn’t waver as our gazes met.
I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening. Forcing a small, polite smile, I gave the maid a gentle pat on her shoulder. “Thank you. I’ll go to her.”
As I turned, I cast one last look at the staff. “Keep loading everything. I’ll be back shortly,” I instructed, trying to sound composed, though my nerves were fraying at the edges.
The stone stairs seemed steeper than usual as I climbed them. Each step felt heavier, weighed down by the memories of Katherine’s previous encounters with me, her sharp words, the subtle disdain in her eyes, the moments where her approval seemed as unattainable as the stars.
By the time I reached the balcony, I had to force myself to breathe evenly. She was standing at the edge, her perfectly tailored dress swaying gently in the breeze, her profile sharp and flawless against the backdrop of the morning sky.
“Good morning, Lady Katherine,” I greeted, keeping my voice steady and respectful.
She didn’t turn immediately. For a moment, I thought she might not respond at all. But then she shifted, her cold gaze settling on me.
“Good morning, Alison,” she replied, her tone measured, neither warm nor cold. “What’s all this commotion about? For days now the kitchen had been busy preparing for something that seems like a ceremony, do you care to tell me what this is about?”
I clasped my hands in front of me, trying not to fidget under her scrutiny. “I’m heading to the pack hospital,” I explained. “I thought it would be meaningful to visit the sick and injured, to bring them food and spend time with them. I hoped it might… help.”
Katherine was silent for a long moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she were weighing my words. The wind picked up, brushing loose strands of my hair across my face. I fought the urge to look away, to shrink under her gaze.
Finally, she spoke. “It’s commendable,” she said, her voice softer than I expected. “The effort you’re putting in.”
The faintest flicker of relief washed over me, but it was quickly tempered by her next words.
“But,” she continued, her tone sharpening just enough to make my chest tighten, “it will take more than handing out free food to capture the hearts of the people.”
Her words stung, though I knew she wasn’t wrong. The pack’s disdain for me wasn’t something a few kind gestures could erase. But still, hearing it from her so bluntly felt like a blow.
I straightened my shoulders, remembering Luke’s advice. “Stand up for yourself.”
“I know,” I said, my voice steady but polite. “I know it will take more than this. But I believe this is a start. A way to show them I care, to pave the way for something… better.”
For a split second, I thought I saw a glimmer of something in her expression… approval, maybe even a hint of respect. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by her usual unreadable mask.
“Good,” Katherine said simply, her voice devoid of emotion. She nodded, almost imperceptibly, then added, “Good luck, Alison.”
And just like that, she turned and walked away, her elegant figure disappearing through the balcony doors, leaving me standing there, confused and conflicted.
Was that… encouragement?
I didn’t have time to dwell on it. A sharp honk from below snapped me back to the present. I leaned over the balcony to see the staff waving up at me. The bus was fully loaded, the engines rumbling softly. It was time.
As I hurried down the steps, my mind raced. Katherine’s words lingered, but so did the subtle change in her tone. It wasn’t exactly the approval I craved, but it wasn’t the cold dismissal I’d grown used to.
By the time I reached the bus, my nervous energy had transformed into determination. Today wasn’t about proving Katherine wrong or right. It wasn’t even about proving anything to the pack.
It was about doing what I could… about showing them who I was beyond the title of Luna.
I climbed into the bus, the smell of freshly packed meals filling the air. The staff was bustling, their chatter filled with anticipation and a touch of nervousness.
“Is everything ready?” I asked, glancing over at Marcy, one of the head maids.
“Yes, Miss Alison,” she said with a nod.
“Good,” I said, offering her a small smile. “Let’s go.”
As the bus pulled out of the castle grounds, I glanced out the window at the sprawling estate. The weight of expectations still loomed, but it felt lighter somehow.
When we arrived at the pack hospital, the sight of the building sent a pang through my chest. The gray walls were weathered, the grounds quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind.
The moment we stepped inside, the air changed. It was heavy with the faint smell of antiseptic and the soft murmurs of nurses tending to their patients.
I braced myself, pulling my shoulders back as we began unloading the food.
The first interaction came when a little girl, no older than six, peeked out from behind a curtain. Her wide, curious eyes met mine, and I smiled gently.
“Hi there,” I said, kneeling to her level. “What’s your name?”
“Lila,” she said shyly, clutching a stuffed bear to her chest.
“Well, Lila,” I said, holding out a small bag of food, “I brought something for you. I hope you like it.”
Her eyes lit up as she took the bag, her small hands brushing against mine. “Thank you,” she whispered before darting back behind the curtain.
The moment was small, fleeting, but it filled me with a warmth I hadn’t felt in weeks.
By the time we finished distributing the food, the atmosphere in the hospital had shifted. The patients were smiling, the nurses chatting animatedly with the staff.
As I stood by the bus, watching the last of the boxes being packed away, I felt a spark of hope.
This was just the beginning.
Today wasn’t about perfection or grandeur. It was about connection, about showing the pack, one person at a time that I was more than the Luna they doubted.
As the bus pulled away, I stared out at the horizon, the sun dipping lower but casting a golden glow across the sky.
I had a long way to go, but for the first time, I felt like I was on the right path.
And I wasn’t going to stop until I got there.