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After My Mate Chose Her, I Found My True Mate Novel Cover

After My Mate Chose Her, I Found My True Mate

Ava’s eighteenth birthday ends in heartbreak when her fated soulmate, Alpha Lucas, publicly rejects her for another woman. Devastated by his betrayal, she abandons her pack to escape the pain. Her journey takes an unexpected turn when she meets a formidable Alpha from a rival territory. This mysterious leader identifies her as his genuine mate, igniting a passionate connection that forces Ava to rethink her understanding of fate and true love.
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Chapter 3

The glass cabinets behind me bit into my back, each sharp edge a reminder of Evan's betrayal. His arm pressed harder against my throat, his Alpha tone vibrating through the room with increasing desperation.

'You will help her,' he growled, his breath hot against my face. 'You will extract the essence now. Or I will take it from you.'

I clawed at his arm, my lungs burning. 'You're hurting me, Evan.'

'Answer me!' His voice cracked like a whip. 'Will you save her?'

The words died in my throat as the double doors of the healer's quarters exploded inward with a deafening crash. Wood splintered, hinges tore from stone, and the sound of shattering glass filled the room as the remaining cabinet doors behind me disintegrated under the force of an approaching presence.

Evan's grip faltered. I gasped for air, my vision blurring as I turned toward the destruction.

Boston Hunt stood in the doorway, his massive frame silhouetted against the night sky. He wasn't shouting. He wasn't even moving. But the Beta aura rolling off him was unlike anything I'd ever felt—a crushing, suffocating wave of power that made the very air vibrate.

'Let. Her. Go.' Each word fell like a stone.

Evan's body went rigid against mine. I felt his muscles lock, his breath catch. Then, as if his legs had turned to water, he collapsed to his knees, gasping for air that wouldn't come.

Boston hadn't thrown a single punch. He hadn't even stepped into the room. His mere presence had brought a ranked wolf to his knees.

'Eve.' Boston's voice softened as he finally moved toward us, his aura receding just enough for me to breathe again. He reached for me with gentle hands that contrasted sharply with the power he'd just displayed.

I was trembling, I realized. Shock, adrenaline, and something else I couldn't name.

Boston's fingers brushed my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn't felt fall. Then he shrugged off his heavy Silverfang pack jacket and draped it over my shoulders, the weight of it grounding me.

'She's under Silverfang protection now,' he said, his eyes never leaving Evan's crumpled form. 'You understand what that means.'

Evan struggled to speak, his face purple. 'Boston, you can't—'

'I can.' Boston's voice dropped to a lethal whisper. 'And I am. Touch her again, and you'll learn exactly what a Beta heir is capable of.'

He turned to me then, his expression unreadable. 'Can you walk?'

I nodded, my legs unsteady as he guided me toward the door. I glanced back once—Selena still sprawled dramatically on the examination table, her performance forgotten as she stared at Boston with undisguised fear.

We left them there, the healer's quarters in ruins behind us, and I didn't look back as Boston led me across the Moonveil territory boundary and into the waiting embrace of Silverfang land.

The guest cabin was small but sturdy, tucked into a quiet corner of the Silverfang grounds. Boston opened the door, stepped back to let me enter, then hovered uncertainly in the doorway.

'You'll be safe here,' he said, his voice rough with emotion he wouldn't name. 'No one will touch you without your permission.'

I wrapped his jacket tighter around me, breathing in his scent—pine and winter and something uniquely Boston. 'Why did you come? How did you know?'

He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. 'I was at the ceremony. When you left...' He shook his head. 'I couldn't stay.'

Without another word, he moved to the window and cracked it open, the cool night air rushing in. Then he placed a steaming mug of black coffee on the nightstand beside the bed.

'You forget to eat when you're upset,' he said simply. 'And you need the window open to sleep.'

I stared at him, speechless. He remembered. After all these years, he remembered the small details of who I was, the habits that made me Eve.

Boston's hand paused on the doorknob. 'Rest,' he said softly. 'Tomorrow will be better.'

As the door closed behind him, I sank onto the edge of the bed, his jacket still heavy on my shoulders. The window was cracked, the coffee was black, and for the first time since the ambulance had blocked our convoy, I felt like I could breathe.

But as I reached for the mug, my fingers trembled. Boston's care was so different from Evan's demands—so careful, so restrained. It felt like the first drop of rain after a drought, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to drown in the flood that might follow.

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