After My Mate Marked the Rogue, I Rejected Him

I made it back to our suite on autopilot. My legs moved. My heart beat. But I wasn't really there anymore.

The door was already open.

Inside, smoke curled through the air—thick, choking sage smoke that made my eyes water. Oaklynn stood in the center of what used to be our bedroom, waving a burning bundle over the furniture like she was performing some kind of ritual.

The room was empty. Stripped bare.

My combat awards—gone. The photos of me and Caleb at the academy—gone. The blanket his mother had given me when we first got together—gone. Even the curtains had been replaced with plain white linen that matched her robes.

"What did you do?" My voice came out strangled.

Oaklynn turned, and that serene smile was back on her face. "I cleansed the space. All that violence, all that aggression—it was poisoning him. He needs peace now. Healing."

"This is my home."

"Was." She corrected me gently, like she was talking to a child. "This is Caleb's home. And mine now. Your energy doesn't belong here anymore."

She moved toward the window, and that's when I saw it. My parents' photo. The one I kept on the nightstand. She was holding it over a trash bag.

"Don't." The word ripped out of me.

But she did. She dropped it in with the rest of the garbage—my life, my memories, everything that mattered—and reached for my locket. The one I'd left on the dresser last night because I'd been so stupid, so naive, thinking I was coming home to celebrate with my mate.

"That's mine." I crossed the room in three strides and grabbed her wrist.

Her skin was cold. Wrong. And for just a second, I saw something flicker in her eyes. Something sharp and calculating that didn't match the fragile act.

Then she screamed.

Not a normal scream. A theatrical, piercing shriek that could probably be heard across the entire pack house. And before I could process what was happening, she threw herself backward.

Right into the glass coffee table.

The sound of shattering glass filled the room. Oaklynn lay in the wreckage, blood blooming across her white robes, still screaming. "Help! Someone help me! She's trying to kill me!"

"I didn't—" I started, but the door burst open.

Caleb stood there, his eyes wild. Behind him, I could see pack members gathering in the hallway, drawn by the noise.

He looked at Oaklynn. At the blood. At me standing over her.

"Elena." His voice dropped into that Alpha tone, the one that made my wolf want to submit. "Step back."

"She threw herself—"

"I said step back!" The command hit me like a physical force. My wolf whimpered, confused, trying to obey even as I fought against it. "You rabid animal. Look what you've done."

Rabid animal. The words echoed in my head, wrong and impossible.

Oaklynn convulsed on the floor, her body jerking. "My heart," she gasped. "The stress—I can't—"

The pack doctor pushed through the crowd, dropping to his knees beside her. His hands moved over her, checking her pulse, her breathing. When he looked up at Caleb, his face was pale.

"Alpha, her heart is failing. The shock—she needs a transfusion immediately. High-potency Alpha blood to stabilize her."

No. No, this wasn't happening.

Caleb's eyes locked on mine. "You're going to fix this."

"I didn't do anything—"

"You're going to donate blood. Now." His Alpha voice wrapped around the words, making them a command my wolf couldn't refuse. "That's an order."

"Caleb, please—"

But he'd already turned to his Beta and Gamma, who'd appeared in the doorway. "Take her to the infirmary. Make sure she cooperates."

Hands grabbed my arms. I tried to pull away, but the Alpha command was still thrumming through my veins, making my wolf submit even as my mind screamed in protest.

They dragged me down the hallway. Pack members pressed against the walls, watching. Judging. I saw pity in some faces. Disgust in others.

The infirmary was cold and sterile. They forced me into a chair, holding me down while the doctor prepared the equipment. I could see Oaklynn on the other bed, still gasping, still playing her part perfectly.

"This is wrong," I said. My voice sounded distant, like it belonged to someone else. "You know this is wrong."

The Beta—Marcus, I think his name was—wouldn't meet my eyes. "Alpha's orders."

Caleb appeared in the doorway. He walked to me slowly, picked up the needle himself. "You brought this on yourself, Elena. All I asked was for you to be gentle. To understand. But you couldn't even do that."

He grabbed my arm. I tried to pull away, but his grip was iron.

"Hold her still," he ordered.

The needle pierced my skin. I felt my blood—my potent Alpha blood, the thing that made me valuable, the thing that made me strong—flowing out of me. The room started to spin.

"That's enough," the doctor said. "Alpha, that's too much—"

"I'll decide when it's enough."

More blood. My wolf was howling now, a sound of pure anguish that only I could hear. The edges of my vision went dark.

"Take her to the cells," Caleb's voice came from somewhere far away. "The silver-lined ones. She needs to cool off. And I don't want her wolf healing too quickly. She needs to learn her place."

The last thing I saw before the darkness took me was Oaklynn, sitting up on her bed, perfectly fine.

Still smiling.