The Rejected daughter chosen by the Alpha (Maya and Atila) novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82

ÁTILA

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He stopped a few feet from the bed and stared at Maya’s body stretched across the sheets.

Wilfred didn’t touch her. He simply observed, his eyes scanning every detail, as if confirming a diagnosis he already knew. Then he turned to me, his gaze sharp, completely unsurprised.

“What do you want me to do?” he murmured, his voice cool, almost bored.

“I want you to bring her back,” I said flatly.

He went quiet for a few seconds. Then he laughed. Not loudly. It was short, dry, incredulous. The kind of sound someone makes when they think they’ve just heard something too absurd to take seriously.

“Do you think I’m some kind of miracle worker? You’ve definitely called the wrong person.”

“Miracles don’t exist,” I said. “But you’re the only person I know who can do anything for her in this

state.”

Wilfred stopped. His expression shifted, the smile vanishing as if it had never been there. He inhaled slowly, like he was weighing every word before letting it out.

“I don’t do that kind of work. When a soul slips out of a body, there’s no bringing it back. Unless-” He cut himself off mid-sentence, lips pressing together hard, like he’d already said too much.

“Unless what?” I demanded.

He swallowed. I watched his Adam’s apple move. When he spoke again, his voice was lower.

“Unless someone with immense power and pure blood, a leader, is willing to make concessions to the Moon in exchange for the life of an omega. Like your girlfriend.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means someone of pure blood would have to give up all their power for a decade to bring her back. Ten years without the strength that holds the hierarchy together. It would shake the entire pack structure. And there would be consequences. For you. And for her.” He paused. “No leader would ever dare make that trade”

I said nothing.

The room felt smaller. The sound of my own breathing grated on my nerves. I thought about hierarchy. About treaties. About the pack. About everything I’d been taught came before any single individual.

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Chapter 82

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Then I looked at Maya’s body on the bed. Lifeless. Like the world had given up on her too soon.

I raised my eyes to Wilfred.

“Do it.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?”

“Save her. Now. I’m willing to pay the

consequences.”

“That would need to be discussed with the council first,” he started, already taking a step back.

“Don’t waste time,” I snapped. “You and I don’t need the council’s permission. Not when you’ve been doing plenty of questionable things for decades.”

Wilfred pressed his lips together. His fingers trembled slightly before disappearing into the sleeves of his blue coat. He let out a long, heavy breath.

Either way, she won’t come back untouched. There will be aftereffects. Nothing ever returns exactly as it was.”

‘Do what needs to be done,” I growled. “Now.”

He held my gaze for a moment that felt longer than it really was. Then he nodded, slow and deliberate.

‘All right.”

Wilfred moved closer to the bed. The way he carried himself was careful, almost reverent. He reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a small, ancient scalpel, its thin blade catching the dim light.

He took Maya’s hand with unexpected gentleness, as if even that gesture followed a strict rule.

This isn’t a miracle,” he said, more to the room than to me. “It’s a negotiation.”

With a precise motion, he sliced into her palm. Blood surfaced immediately, too dark against her pale skin. My jaw tightened, but I didn’t look away.

Then Wilfred extended his hand toward me.

“Your turn.”

I offered my hand without hesitation. The blade came down, cold and sharp. The pain was brief, controlled. Blood spilled and soaked into the sheets, mixing with hers as Wilfred pressed our hands together over Maya’s chest.

He began to murmur ancient words, in a language I didn’t fully recognize, yet my body seemed to understand. The air around the bed thickened, charged. A faint blue light started to form, pulsing

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Chapter 82

softly around us.

Wilfred closed his eyes and raised his voice.

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“Moon who watches. Moon who demands. Accept what is offered. Take what is pure and return what was taken.”

The light grew stronger. Blue spilled across the room, reflecting off the walls, the sheets, Maya’s skin. I felt something being pulled out of me-not pain, but absence. Like an essential part of me was being drained, drop by drop.

Maya stirred.

Her body arched slightly, and then she coughed. A rough, dry sound. A thin line of blood slipped from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes opened, unfocused, frightened.

“Where am I?” she whispered, her voice weak, fractured. Her gaze moved between Wilfred and me, confused. “Who are you?”

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