Don't Mark Me

It's the Werewolves' Hunting Festival today. It's been three months since I found my mate.

During the festival, male werewolves will give the prey they've hunted to their mates. It's a way to show their strength and love for their mates.

However, my mate, Chris Ashwood, tells me to give up on him and pick another mate, seeing as there are so many other outstanding Alphas around.

I nod calmly and agree.

In my past life, I disagreed and insisted on marrying him. However, he didn't mark me after we got married. In fact, he was stargazing in the desert with his true love when I was shot by a bounty hunter and gravely injured.

Perhaps this is just a game of heart-hunting that should never have begun.

It was the day of the Werewolves' Hunting Festival. I found my mate three months prior.

During the festival, the male werewolves presented their captured prey to their mates as a display of their strength and devotion.

But my mate, Chris Ashwood, looked at me and said, "There are so many outstanding Alphas here. Why don't you just give up on me and choose someone else?"

I nodded calmly. "Alright."

Chris froze when I agreed without hesitation. He clearly didn't expect such an indifferent response. His hand, which was loading his hunting rifle, came to an abrupt stop.

He raised his gaze to look at me, his expression unreadable. "Fiora Wilson, did you hear what I just said?"

I met his eyes and nodded sincerely. "I heard you."

A bullet slipped through his fingers, falling to the ground with a dull thud. His expression was one of pure confusion.

In my previous life, when Chris said those words to me, I burst into tears, sobbing pitifully. I even threatened him, saying, "If you dare betray me, I will have my brother banish you from Darkwood Pack!"

My brother, Lucian Wilson, was the Alpha of Darkwood Pack. Chris was his Beta. Under Lucian's pressure, Chris eventually married me.

But in this life, his cruel suggestion no longer stirred any emotions in me.

Chris stared at me in disbelief, as if he wanted to say something more.

"Fiora—"

Before he could finish, the gunshot signaling the start of the hunt rang out. Warriors from every pack rushed into the forest-covered mountains.

An hour later, Chris returned with his catch.

"This is for you," he said, tossing the prey at my feet.

It was a small rabbit. Blood still dripped from its soft fur, but I felt nothing.

He knew. He knew I loved rabbits. I even kept one as a pet. Yet, he chose this childish and cruel way to express his dissatisfaction.

"Thank you," I said coldly. "Take me home." I didn't bother picking up the prey. Without another word, I turned and walked toward the car.

Just then, a scream pierced through the forest.

"Kaia was attacked by a black bear!" someone shouted. The moment the words were spoken, Chris was already sprinting in the direction of the scream.

Kaia Valmont was Chris' ex-girlfriend.

They were together for three years. She was an Omega with soft golden hair and a delicate, slender neck—like a real-life porcelain doll. She was the kind of woman who effortlessly awakened a man's protective instincts.

Not long after, Chris walked over, carrying Kaia in his arms.

She clung tightly to his neck, letting out soft whimpers of pain. If it weren't for the fresh blood staining her thigh, just hearing the sounds, one might have mistaken the scene for something far more intimate.

Chris, on the other hand, was filled with worry and distress.

"I'll drive Kaia home. You can ride back with Lucian," Chris said to me.

Before I could respond, Lucian appeared behind me. "I'll take Kaia home," he said firmly. "You take Fiora."

"Kaia's thigh is injured. It wouldn't be appropriate for someone else to care for her," Chris argued.

"And you think it's appropriate for you?" Lucian shot back, his voice laced with anger. "Don't forget your place."

I gently tugged on Lucian's sleeve and said, "Let Chris take her home. A scar on a girl's thigh wouldn't be a good look."

I stepped aside, silently giving them permission to leave as whispers from the crowd drifted into my ears.

"I heard Kaia is Chris' real girlfriend. They've been together for years."

"But no matter what they were before, Fiora is his mate now. How could he be so close to another woman in front of her?"

"Fiora is so pitiful," someone remarked.

"I think Kaia is even more pitiful."

Lucian leaned in and murmured, "Aren't you afraid they'll get back together? It's late at night, and they'll be alone in a room together."

His voice was low, but Chris still caught it.

"There's nothing inappropriate going on between Kaia and me!" Chris snapped, though a flicker of guilt flashed in his eyes.

"Fiora, I've already let go. I won't take your mate from you," Kaia whispered, tears welling up in her eyes as she slowly unwrapped her arms from Chris' neck, attempting to stand on her own.

But she barely managed to stand before her legs buckled, and she fell hard to the ground with a pained cry.

"Kaia!" Chris quickly scooped her up again, holding her protectively. "As long as I'm here, no one will dare hurt you."

Then, as if her injuries were somehow my fault, he shot me a sharp glare, his eyes burning with accusation.

I merely smiled and shook my head. I saw this act far too many times in my past life.

"Kaia, I don't blame you," I said lightly before turning to Chris. "Beta Chris, you should take her home before her wound gets infected."

Chris' expression darkened. He seemed confused by my indifference—and displeased by my choice of words.

I never called him "Beta Chris" before.

His brows furrowed, and he instinctively tightened his arms around Kaia. Just before leaving, he turned back and said, "You've had a long day too. Get some rest."