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His Rejection Ignited My Alpha Empire Novel Cover

His Rejection Ignited My Alpha Empire

Brandon Nichols broke the mate bond with me abruptly and soon mated with a younger packmate. As I approached thirty, my attempts at finding a mate through pack matchmakers continuously ended in rejection. Five years later, at a pack gathering, they appeared as a glamorous middle-class couple, arriving in a sleek Mercedes, sporting tailored Patagonia gear, and carrying Louis Vuitton bags. Meanwhile, I arrived on a bicycle and found myself feeling out of place in the corner. Someone with mischief in mind asked, “Kendra, why isn’t your mate here?” I smiled and said, “He’s busy ringing the bell at the New York Stock Exchange.” I first met Brandon during our first year in the Silvermoon Pack. New to the bustling city, I was stopped at the pack gates by an elderly couple asking for travel money. When I declined, they followed and berated me, “So young, yet lacking any kindness! No wolf would ever want a heartless girl like you!” Flustered, I turned red with anger. Just then, Brandon appeared with a group of friends, exuding youthful bravado. He stood out as the most handsome and confident, holding a Wilson basketball and wearing limited-edition sneakers.
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Chapter 2

About mate bond.

In the second year after graduation, my parents began pressuring me to get Brandon Nichols to confirm our mate bond. I was hesitant to bring it up because I didn’t want to appear desperate, so I mentioned it casually, as if it were a joke.

Brandon paused his game for a moment, as if he hadn’t heard me. His mother, Luna Linda, remained friendly but never brought up the bond either.

By the fourth year after graduation, my packmates started asking why we hadn’t marked each other yet. I laughed it off, saying, "We’re still young. No need to rush into the so-called 'grave of love.'"

Before I knew it, it was the sixth year since graduation and the tenth year of our relationship. On Thanksgiving, I reserved a table at a restaurant known for its romantic atmosphere. Halfway through the meal, I smiled and asked Brandon, "Shouldn’t we start considering confirming our bond?"

The candlelight flickered romantically. His previously gentle expression turned cold in an instant. He said, "Sure, I’ll mention it to my mom." I sighed in relief and quickly changed the subject to avoid the awkwardness.

But nothing came of it. Whenever I brought it up, he seemed annoyed.

Finally, during an argument over something trivial, he blurted out the truth—"Kendra, my mom doesn’t want me to confirm our mate bond!"

I stood there, shocked, but not as surprised as I thought I’d be. The argument fell silent. Brandon realized what he had said but didn’t attempt to take it back. He remained silent, engrossed in his phone.

My anger wasn’t explosive; it was more like a cold wave washing over me. "So you never really planned to mark me, did you?" I asked.

Frustrated, he rubbed his forehead and said, "Isn’t it enough to just date? What’s the point of a bond? Does a mark really change anything? Besides, your career is on the rise. Wouldn’t this affect your work?"

Every word felt like an excuse, an attempt to rationalize his stance.

I interrupted him: "Brandon, you disgust me."

The person I thought I knew felt like a stranger. Tears welled up in my eyes.

Brandon was never one to back down during arguments, and he was past the point of feeling guilty about my tears. He muttered something under his breath, looking at me with disdain. "Kendra, don’t act like you’re such a victim or that you love me so much. You just want to find a local Beta to mate. My mom’s office is full of women from out of town with the same plans as you. I’m the best you’ll ever get, and you’re just scared I’ll slip away."

Before he could finish, I turned and walked out. That night, I stayed at a friend’s house. The next morning, staring at my puffy eyes in the mirror, I splashed water on my face. No matter how much it hurts, adults still have to show up for pack duties.

Fights between Brandon and me were not uncommon. After the storm, we usually found our way back to each other. My friend said this time he’d crossed the line, and I shouldn’t forgive him so easily. I had just typed "Okay" when a message from Brandon popped up: "It’s important to have a mate on the same level."

"Kendra, let’s reject the bond."

I nearly dropped my phone.

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