
When My Mate Chose Her Over Me
Chapter 8
The announcement for boarding echoed through the loudspeaker. I turned off my phone, unwilling to engage with Dean further. Two hours later, the plane touched down. I had returned to the Silver Moon Pack’s territory, the place where I’d been born and raised. Although it lacked the bustling energy of the Crimson Fang Pack in London, the familiar scent of pine and the sight of the pack’s stone lodges filled me with a profound sense of calm.
Standing at the doorway with my suitcase, my father hesitated as if caught in a time warp. His broad shoulders, though slightly stooped with age, still carried the quiet strength of a respected elder. "Dad, I’m home. I came back by myself." He pressed his lips together, remaining silent for what felt like ages. His amber eyes, so much like mine, were full of understanding as he gently patted my back. "It’s okay, you’re home now. We can still have a good holiday together."
Tears brimmed in my eyes as I nodded. I retreated to my childhood bedroom and sank into the bed, exhaling deeply. The room still smelled faintly of lavender, a scent that had always soothed me. Almost instinctively, I reached for my phone and switched it on. Instantly, Dean’s messages poured in.
"Jessica, what’s going on?"
"You insisted on me joining you for Thanksgiving, and now you suddenly don’t want to go?"
"I’ve told you countless times, there’s nothing between me and Lucia. If there was, where would that leave you?!"
"...Ignoring my calls now?"
"Alright, you said you didn’t want me to come over; don’t regret it."
After that, there were no more messages from him. I glanced at Dean’s words, "If there was, where would that leave you?!" and couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly. The only reason I had agreed to be Dean’s mate back then was because Lucia, the elegant and high-ranking Gamma, had rejected him first, leaving me to pick up the pieces. But now, if I had the chance to do it all over again, I’d rather have never crossed paths with him.
I remembered the day Dean had officially asked me to be his mate. We were standing in the Silver Moon Pack’s grand hall, the air thick with the scent of pine and the murmurs of pack members. He had taken my hand and spoken the formal vow, his voice steady and sure: "I, Dean Simmons, Beta of the Silver Moon Pack, claim you, Jessica Martin, as my mate. By the will of the Moon Goddess, our bond is sealed."
Back then, I had believed him. But over time, his attention had drifted, always toward Lucia, her presence like a shadow over our bond. The memory of their closeness, the way Dean’s eyes lingered on her during pack meetings, still stung. And now, after everything, he still couldn’t see how much he had hurt me.
I set my phone aside and stared at the ceiling, the quiet of the room a stark contrast to the noise in my mind. My wolf stirred faintly in the back of my consciousness, a soft whimper of pain and resignation. I ignored it, focusing instead on the sound of the wind rustling through the trees outside. Here, in the Silver Moon Pack, I was just an Omega, a quiet and overlooked presence. But at least here, I knew where I belonged. And for now, that was enough.
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