After My Mate Chose Her, I Chose Myself

I hit the bottom of the ravine with a sickening thud. The impact knocked what little breath I had left from my lungs. Pain—sharp, blinding, and overwhelming—flooded every nerve ending in my body. I tried to move, but my limbs felt like they were made of lead, refusing to respond. Beneath me, the jagged rocks bit into my back, and warm, sticky wetness spread across the ground beneath me. Blood. My blood.

My vision blurred, the stars above swimming into smears of light against the dark night sky. My wolf was still curled into a tight, wounded ball inside my mind, whimpering and broken. I could feel her pain mingling with my own, a toxic cocktail of betrayal and physical agony.

A wave of dizziness washed over me. I blinked, fighting to stay conscious. I couldn't die here. Not like this. Not for him.

With trembling fingers, I pressed my hand to the gaping wound in my side. The rogues' claws had torn through my shirt and into my flesh, leaving three deep gashes across my ribs. The bleeding was bad. Too bad. If I didn't get help soon, I would die alone in this ravine.

I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth against the pain, and reached for the pack mind-link. It was a desperate, last-ditch effort. I knew it was pointless. I knew he was with her. But some foolish part of me still hoped...

'Jonas,' I projected, my mental voice weak and ragged. 'Please. Rogues at the northern border. I'm bleeding out, I need you. Please...'

I waited, my heart pounding in my chest, each beat sending fresh waves of agony through my body. The silence in the link stretched on, suffocating me more effectively than the blood pooling in my lungs.

Then, a presence filled the link. Jonas. Relief flooded through me, so potent I almost sobbed.

But his response wasn't what I had hoped for.

'What now, Gwen?' His mental voice was cold, annoyed, laced with an exhaustion that had nothing to do with concern for me. 'I'm busy. Mckenzie needs me.'

'Jonas, please,' I begged, my mental voice cracking. 'I'm hurt. I'm bleeding. The rogues—'

'For Moon's sake, grow up!' he snapped, the force of his irritation slamming into me through the link. 'Mckenzie actually needs me right now. She's injured. You're just throwing a tantrum because you're jealous. I don't have time for this.'

The link went dead. He severed it. Violently.

I lay there, staring up at the stars, feeling the life drain out of me with every heartbeat. Jonas had heard me. He had heard my plea, and he had chosen her. Again. He had left me to die.

Something inside me broke. Not my heart—that had already shattered. This was deeper. It was the final thread of hope, of love, of devotion that had bound me to him for five long years. It snapped, and in its place, something cold and hard began to form.

My wolf stirred. For the first time since the riverside, she lifted her head. Her eyes, once warm and loving, now burned with a fierce, primal rage. She was done being a victim. Done being a pawn. Done waiting for a mate who would never choose us.

'If we don't save ourselves,' she growled in the back of my mind, 'we will die here. For nothing. For a mate who doesn't care. Is that what we want, Gwen? To die for him?'

The question echoed in my skull, igniting a fire in my veins that burned hotter than the pain. No. I didn't want to die for him. I wanted to live. I wanted to survive. I wanted to show him exactly what he had thrown away.

With a roar that was more defiance than strength, I forced myself to move. Every inch was agony, every movement sending fresh waves of pain coursing through my body. But I dragged myself across the rocky ground, leaving a dark smear of blood behind me. I found a narrow cave, barely more than a crack in the ravine wall, and pulled myself inside.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the trees above, I collapsed onto the cold stone floor. My wolf's fur, once dull and unremarkable, now carried a faint silver sheen in the dim light. We had survived the night. We had saved ourselves. And as I drifted into unconsciousness, one thought crystallized in my mind: This was the last time Jonas Holmes would ever make me bleed.