Erasing the Alpha’s Fated Mark

I watched in a daze as Gavin and his entourage moved on to the next party.

I could still hear him on the phone with his assistant.

“Send her home,” he said, his voice devoid of any concern.

At that moment, the past rushed back to me.

Snapping back to the present, I didn’t wait for Gavin’s response. I walked right past him and left the clubhouse.

I had delivered the Elder’s message.

Whether Gavin went or not was his choice.

I had never given him the cold shoulder before.

This was likely the first time since we were bonded.

It must have caught him off guard, because Gavin was still frozen in place as I left.

The moment I got in my car, Gavin’s call came through.

“It was just a game! What was that attitude?”

He started with a complaint.

Leaving without a word must have made him lose face as an Alpha in front of his friends and Talia.

A sharp pain shot through my heart.

So, a “game” could be that intimate.

Then what was this between us? A crueler game, orchestrated by fate?

Over the phone, I could faintly hear his friends laughing.

“When the Alpha gets home, Elowen will just be crying and begging him to mark her anyway.”

“A mate rejected by her own Alpha. It’s hilarious.”

“Shh, Gavin’s still on the phone.”

I remembered a saying: if you want to know if an Alpha loves you, look at how his pack treats you.

I had always known this. I had just chosen to ignore it.

“Come back and apologize to Talia. You made her uncomfortable,” Gavin commanded. “If you don’t, I’ll go take care of Talia tonight instead of coming home.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his familiar threat.

“Do whatever you want.”

In the past, those words would have worked on me, because I loved him.

But now? I didn’t want to live like this anymore.

After hanging up, I glanced at my phone.

Talia had posted on social media after I left.

The picture showed Gavin sitting on her bed, with Talia perched intimately on his lap, the dazzling Chicago skyline in the background.

The caption read: “He’s always by my side.”

Gavin had liked the post.

I liked it too, and left a comment: “Perfect for each other. All the best.”

I stared at the ring on my finger, the symbol of our bond.

After a moment’s hesitation, I took it off.

I had worn it for so long, but it felt more like a trap than a symbol of love.

For the first time in three years, I posted something on my own social media.

“Love yourself first to find your freedom.”

Then, I scrolled through my old posts. The last one was from our bonding ceremony.

I was smiling brightly, my eyes full of love for Gavin, completely oblivious to the impatience and disgust in his.

That night, I went to bed early.

For the first time, I didn’t call Gavin, nor did I brew the herbal tea that was meant to soothe his stress.

When we were first bonded, Gavin always used pack business as an excuse to come home late.

I used to brew his herbal tea and wait for him in the living room.

The moment I heard the door open, I would rush to greet him, hoping he would act like a real mate, gently stroke my hair, and drink the tea I had prepared for him.

Instead, Gavin would walk past me with a dark expression, scowling at the tea I’d made.

“I deal with elders and rivals all day. Do I have to come home and deal with you, too?” he once said.

His words caught me completely off guard. I never thought he would say something like that to me.

Though my heart was breaking at the time, I still managed a smile.

“I just wanted to wait for you. I thought you’d be tired from handling pack affairs.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he snapped.

That was the first time I waited up for Gavin after we were bonded.

Back then, I thought he was just tired. Looking back now, I realize he just didn’t like me.

Even preparing a cup of tea to soothe his spirit was, in his eyes, a form of clinging.