
Lycan Saves Rejected Mate
Chapter 2
I ran.
My white dress tangled around my legs as I stumbled through the pack house doors, barely registering the shocked faces that blurred past me. Behind me, the great hall buzzed with whispers that grew louder with each step I took—hushed conversations about the incomplete mating ritual, about the Alpha who'd abandoned his mate at the altar, about the wolfless girl who'd finally gotten what she deserved.
My small cottage sat at the edge of pack territory, a fifteen-minute walk that felt like an eternity. By the time I reached my door, my lungs burned and tears streaked my face, probably ruining whatever dignity I had left. I fumbled with the lock, my hands shaking so badly I could barely turn the key.
Inside, I collapsed against the closed door and slid to the floor.
The dress—this beautiful white dress I'd spent months choosing—pooled around me like a cloud. I'd imagined Maverick removing it tonight, his mark fresh on my neck, our bond finally complete. Instead, I sat alone on my cottage floor, unmarked and unwanted, while he comforted another woman.
My fingers found my neck, pressing against the smooth, unblemished skin. No mate mark. No sacred bond. Just emptiness where his teeth should have claimed me in front of all those witnesses.
A sob tore from my throat, then another, until I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe. How could he do this? How could he humiliate me in front of every Alpha family in the region? And for what—a broken figurine?
No. Not just that. The way he'd looked at Charley, the gentleness in his voice, the way he'd rushed to her without hesitation—those weren't reactions to a simple accident. That was something deeper, something that had been growing while I'd been blind to it.
"Cold-hearted witch." His words echoed in my mind, laced with that Alpha authority that had made my knees weak. Not from desire, but from the deliberate cruelty of using his power against his own mate.
I pulled my knees to my chest, making myself as small as possible. By now, news of the failed ceremony would be spreading through every pack. The wolfless girl who couldn't even keep her Alpha's attention long enough to complete a mating ritual. The would-be Luna who was rejected before she could be marked.
I was the laughingstock of the entire werewolf community.
A sharp knock at my door made me flinch. For one desperate second, I thought it might be Maverick, coming to apologize, to explain, to fix this nightmare. But when I opened the door, Luna Scott stood there with a smile that could cut glass.
"Well, well," she said, pushing past me without invitation. "That was quite the spectacle. Though I can't say I'm surprised."
I should have closed the door in her face. Instead, I stood there, too numb to protest as she circled my small living room with obvious disdain.
"A wolfless Luna." She laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. "Did you really think my son would go through with it? That he'd saddle himself with you—a defective mate who can't even shift?"
Each word was designed to wound, and they hit their marks perfectly. But something stirred in my chest, something hot and fierce that cut through the numbness.
"You should be grateful he waited this long to show you the truth," Luna Scott continued. "Honestly, I'm proud of him for finally standing up for himself and the pack's reputation. We don't need a weak, wolfless—"
"Get out."
My voice was quiet, but it stopped her mid-sentence. She turned to me, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised.
"Excuse me?"
"Get out of my house." Something was changing inside me, some locked door finally breaking open. My hands had stopped shaking. "You came here to mock me, to rub salt in my wounds. Well, you've done it. Now leave."
Luna Scott's face flushed with outrage. "How dare you speak to me that way? I am the Luna of this pack, and you—"
"I'm done being your punching bag." I moved toward her, and for the first time in my life, I saw something flicker in her eyes. Surprise. Maybe even a hint of fear. "Out. Now."
"You little—"
I grabbed her arm—actually grabbed the Luna of Silvermoon Pack—and steered her toward the door. She was so shocked she didn't even resist until I'd pushed her over the threshold.
"Raelynn Fisher, you will regret this!" she shrieked as I slammed the door in her face.
I locked it and pressed my back against the wood, my heart pounding. I'd just thrown out the Luna. Without a wolf to protect me, without any status or standing in the pack, I'd just made an enemy of the most powerful female in Silvermoon.
But I couldn't bring myself to regret it.
Hours passed in a blur of tears and numbness. The sun set, casting long shadows through my windows. I'd changed out of the wedding dress, unable to bear looking at it any longer, and now sat curled on my small couch when I felt it—a sharp pull in my chest that made me gasp.
The mate bond.
Maverick was using it to summon me, to drag me toward him through the invisible thread that connected us. I tried to resist, digging my metaphorical heels in, but his Alpha power overwhelmed my pitiful defenses.
"No," I whispered, but my body was already moving toward the door.
He appeared on my porch before I could reach it, and I stumbled backward at the sight of him. His jaw was set in that familiar stubborn line, his Alpha aura pressing against me like a physical force.
"Get in the car." His voice was cold, commanding. "Now."
"Why should I?" The courage that had allowed me to throw out his mother flickered inside me. "So you can humiliate me again?"
"Charley is hurt." He grabbed my arm, his grip bruising. "She's in the pack hospital, and you're going to care for her."
I stared at him, certain I'd misheard. "What?"
"You heard me." His Alpha tone wrapped around the words, making them impossible to resist. "Your cold-heartedness caused her fall. The least you can do is show some compassion now."
"I didn't—" But the protest died in my throat as he pulled me toward his car, the mate bond amplifying his commands until my body moved against my will.
This was my mate. The man who'd saved my life, who'd promised to protect me, who was supposed to cherish our bond above all else.
And he was dragging me to his mistress's bedside like a servant.
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