The Alpha Who Rejected His Fated Mate

The Harrison Pack was gone, my second home, shattered.

That night, I was shoved out through a narrow gap in the wall, the urgency in the hands pushing me unmistakable.

It was Ruthie, the pack’s healer, who dragged me out.

We’d barely exchanged more than a few words before, but she was the only one in the pack who’d sneak me food late at night, her stern face hiding a kindness I’d come to rely on.

She pulled me along, my steps unsteady, but I kept turning back, my voice trembling. “Ruthie, what about Gamma? Did he make it out?”

She yanked me into an alley, weaving through the shadows until we reached a small, hidden house.

Her eyes were red, her face etched with lines of grief and anger. “He’s gone,” she said, her voice low and choked. “The pack’s gone. Everything’s gone.”

The next day, the streets buzzed with whispers—Gamma Sebastian Harrison had betrayed the pack, they said. The higher-ups avoided the topic like it was poison.

I turned to Ruthie, my voice shaking. “Why are they lying? Gamma would never betray us. He was the one who protected us, who fought for us. Why are they spreading these lies?”

Ruthie shook her head, her lips bitten raw. “The higher powers, Tatum. They see strength as a threat. Gamma was too powerful, too respected. His aura was too dominant. They couldn’t let him survive.”

I didn’t understand, but the weight of her words pressed heavily on my chest.

I asked her, “Will Gamma come back?”

Ruthie didn’t answer, but the voices on the street did. They said Gamma was dead—killed by a rival pack just outside the territory, his body left in pieces.

I refused to believe it.

I’d seen Gamma fight, his claws razor-sharp, his wolf form towering and commanding. He was the strongest among us.

I couldn’t believe he’d betray the pack, and I couldn’t believe he was dead.

So, every day, I waited near the ruins of the pack house, my face covered with a scarf, watching.

This was his territory. His scent was still here. He’d come back.

Ruthie scolded me, calling me stubborn, naive, and foolish. But by the end of her rant, her voice would crack, and she’d be on the verge of tears.

“He’s gone, Tatum,” she said, her voice breaking. “We’ll never find him again.”

So, when I finally returned, dragging a battered and bruised Gamma Sebastian Harrison with me, she stood there, her mouth hanging open, unable to speak for a long, stunned moment.