Rejected Mate's Vengeance

"Take it off!" I demanded, my voice sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room. My eyes locked onto Callie Jackson, who stood there in my ceremonial wolf pelt, her expression a carefully crafted mix of innocence and helplessness. She glanced at Ronan Griffin, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Nadia, Callie came to apologize," Ronan said quickly, stepping forward as if to shield her. His Beta aura, usually commanding and steady, felt off—strained. "She got soaked in the rain on her way over and took a shower at my den. Please, it’s not what you think."

He gave Callie a subtle nod, and she chimed in, her voice dripping with sweetness, "Nadia, really, don’t misunderstand. My clothes were drenched, and Ronan kindly let me borrow your pelt. I didn’t mean to offend you."

"Take it off," I repeated, my tone leaving no room for argument. My wolf stirred in the back of my mind, a low growl of frustration echoing within me.

Callie flinched, her eyes welling with tears as if I’d struck her. Ronan’s jaw tightened, and his irritation was palpable. He was always so composed, so in control, but now his calm facade was cracking.

"It’s just a pelt," he said, his voice clipped. "Is it necessary to be so aggressive?"

I let out a cold laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. "If Callie doesn’t want to take it off, maybe she could buy it from me instead? I have no interest in keeping borrowed pelts."

"$700—how would you like to pay, Callie?" I asked, holding out my phone with the payment app open, my gaze unwavering.

Callie’s eyes widened in shock, her tears now streaming freely as if she were the most wronged wolf in the pack. She hesitated, pretending to reach for the pelt, but Ronan stepped in, grabbing her arm protectively.

"Enough!" Ronan snapped, his Beta tone ringing through the room, sharp and commanding. "Nadia, I never thought you’d be so unreasonable."

"$700, you say? Fine, I’ll pay for her," he growled, pulling out his phone and navigating to a payment app with a flick of his fingers. His movements were stiff, his frustration boiling over.

Behind him, Callie shot me a smug, mocking smile, her eyes glinting with triumph.

"Happy now?" Ronan asked, his glare piercing.

I slowly pocketed my phone and nodded, my voice steady. "Satisfied? Absolutely."

"Now, I’d appreciate it if both of you would kindly leave my den," I said, gesturing toward the door with a calmness that belied the storm raging inside me.

"Nadia, you’re being ridiculous," Ronan muttered, his frustration clear. But he didn’t argue further. Callie, however, stepped forward, her smile sickly sweet as she took my hand.

"Nadia, why are you doing this?" she said, her voice soft and pleading. "We came here to apologize. There’s truly nothing going on between Ronan and me. The rumors are just for show, meant for the pack. Please don’t let me come between you and Ronan; I’d feel awfully guilty."

Her words were honeyed, but her grip on my hand tightened, her nails digging into my skin. I shook her off lightly, but she let out a gasp—a performance worthy of a Luna—and stumbled, scraping her knee on the edge of the table. A thin line of blood welled up, and she looked up at me with wide, tear-filled eyes.

"Nadia, are you out of your mind?" Ronan yelled, rushing to her side. He knelt down to inspect her injury, his face filled with concern. When he looked back at me, his eyes burned with anger.

"Nadia, Callie was trying to apologize. Why did you have to react that way?"

"Ronan, it’s okay, don’t blame Nadia. It was my fault for being careless," Callie murmured, her voice trembling as she played the martyr.

I opened my mouth to speak, to explain, but Ronan cut me off.

"Enough," he said, his voice cold and final. "Nadia, I guess I was wrong about you."

With that, he scooped Callie into his arms and carried her out of my den without a backward glance. The door slammed shut behind them, and I stood there, my chest heaving, my wolf growling in frustration.

My pelt was still on her. And Ronan—my once-loyal Beta, the wolf I’d stood by through everything—had chosen her. Again.