After His Betrayal, I Rejected the Bond

I had barely spent an hour at my best friend Arlette’s den when my phone buzzed with a mind link notification: *“When are you coming back to the pack house?”* I glanced at it briefly and continued watching a series on my tablet.

Noticing my indifference, Arlette, a fierce Delta warrior like myself, looked at me incredulously. “Alice, Alpha Lincoln mind linked you, and you’re just ignoring it?”

Everyone in the pack knew that I used to prioritize Alpha Lincoln over even myself. Despite this, I stayed at Arlette's until late, the moon casting its silver glow over the forest outside.

When I finally returned to the pack house, Alpha Lincoln had just finished his shower. He didn’t seem to care where I’d been, and I didn’t feel like starting a conversation. I poured myself a cup of coffee and grabbed my training clothes to prepare for my evening run.

As soon as I lay down in bed, Alpha Lincoln sidled up to me, his lips brushing against my cheek as he leaned in. I shifted away, giving him a firm push.

His frustration boiling over, he turned on the bedside lamp. His Alpha aura filled the room, thick and oppressive. “Alice,” he said through clenched teeth, “don’t forget you were the one who wanted to be with me.”

I clung to the blanket tightly. My insecurity used to make me believe that being close to him would secure his affection. I’d made countless advances, only for him to insist we’d wait until the mate bond was fully sealed because he was saving himself for Gamma Sienna.

Turning my back to him, I replied, “You were the one who said we should wait until the bond was complete.”

Alpha Lincoln was taken aback by my use of his own excuse to refuse him now. Angry and upset, he grabbed a pillow and stormed out of the bedroom.

I knew this meant he’d be sleeping in the guest room for the next few days. This had become his go-to move whenever we argued, trying to pressure me into compromising. In the past, it had kept me anxious and awake all night, my wolf whimpering in the back of my mind.

But this time, I slept soundly, the silence of the pack house a welcome reprieve.

The next morning at the training grounds, I was unusually energized, tackling every sparring match with ferocity. My trainer, a seasoned Gamma, joked, “Planning a marking ceremony, are we? You’re fighting like a wolf possessed.”

As I adjusted my sparring gloves, I replied with a grin, “No, actually, I’m rejecting the bond!”

By the third day of sleeping separately, I had already arranged to meet a pack relocator to view dens in a neighboring territory. Despite usually avoiding any hassle, Alpha Lincoln had oddly left a container of venison stew on the table for me.

I glanced at it briefly, then continued with my den-hunting plans.

Halfway through the viewings, a picture popped up in our pack’s mind link group. It was a photo from Alpha Lincoln’s old schoolmate’s marking ceremony. In it, Gamma Sienna was glowing, her arm looped around Alpha Lincoln’s, her head gently resting on his shoulder. Her scent, a mix of lavender and pine, seemed to linger even through the image.

I clenched my fists, my wolf growling faintly in the back of my mind, but I pushed the feeling down. This was my life now, and I was done letting Alpha Lincoln dictate it.