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Fated Doesn’t Mean Chosen Novel Cover

Fated Doesn’t Mean Chosen

Avalon believed her bond with Damon Hawthorne was secure until a sudden call from his father shattered her world. Learning that Damon’s former flame has returned for their scheduled bonding ceremony, Avalon laughs it off as a joke. But the devastating reality sets in when Damon casually asks her to use her unique calming gift to help him prepare for the reunion. As Avalon paralyzes with shock, Damon delivers a cruel reminder: being fated mates does not mean he will ever choose her.
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Chapter 1

When Damon Hawthorne's father contacted me, I was lying next to Damon.

I thought his father was joking and said to the man beside me with a laugh, "Damon, I heard your old flame is back. They're planning a bonding ceremony for you two."

But he just mumbled sleepily and pulled me into his arms.

"Avalon, I'll need you to use that calming gift of yours on me later. I want to be at my best for the ceremony."

"I'm nervous about seeing her."

I froze.

Damon sensed me stiffen and his eyes fluttered open. A mocking laugh escaped him.

"Seriously? Avalon, we're fated mates. That's it. You didn't actually think that meant I'd choose you, did you?"

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1

For a moment, I couldn't even process what Damon Hawthorne had said.

I just floundered, trying to hide my panic.

I didn't dare look at him.

I pushed him away, grabbed my clothes off the floor, and scrambled into them.

"Avalon Reed, look at me," he said, propping himself up on an elbow, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

"You don't actually believe fate is everything, do you?"

His words, 'fated mates, that's it,' echoed in my mind.

My hands were trembling so badly I couldn't even fasten my buttons.

Damon sighed, threw back the covers to reveal his lean, toned abs, and knelt on the bed.

Then, he reached out and skillfully buttoned my shirt for me.

I lowered my head and let out a bitter laugh.

"Who is she? Don't tell me it's just some random girl."

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

Faint red marks still covered my body, and my legs felt weak and sore.

Damon buried his head in the crook of my neck. "Gritte Monroe."

He lifted his beautiful, mischievous eyes and continued, "She was the girl I was obsessed with in college. To be honest, I'm a little nervous about seeing her again."

My hand froze in mid-air.

Of course I remembered Gritte.

He used to be infatuated with her.

But she had moved overseas before he could confess his feelings.

I thought he had moved on.

Damon looked at me and pursed his lips.

"Avalon Reed, don't get any funny ideas."

"We grew up together. And sure, you're special, and we have great chemistry in bed."

"But I only see you as my closest ally."

He grinned.

"I love hunting with you, running with you, doing all sorts of things together…"

"But I really can't imagine spending the rest of my life with you."

His words hit me like a physical blow.

A chill ran down my spine, and I forced a strained smile.

He went on, his tone casual, as if discussing the weather.

"I can sense your every mood swing before it even happens. To be honest, it’s boring."

"Sometimes, I wake up and see you next to me, and it actually startles me."

"It scares me. What if we actually gave in to this biological instinct and bonded?"

"It would feel like my life was over before it even began."

"I know you too well. If we really became mates, life would be so dull."

He shuddered, as if the very thought terrified him.

I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself not to cry.

"I have to go." I threw on my jacket and fled, a coward deserting the battlefield of his bed.

I used to think what Damon and I had was a gift from fate.

We did everything fated mates do.

We shared food, ran together under the moon, and horsed around with our friends.

We would kiss during games of truth or dare and say "I love you" without hesitation.

He'd pick me up and drop me off every time it rained.

During pack dinners, he'd secretly hold my hand under the table, sending warmth through our connection.

But I never imagined that what felt like six months of a blossoming romance was just a game to him.

"Avalon?" My mother, Elena Reed, tapped on the car window, her face etched with concern.

I snapped back to reality.

I quickly wiped the tears from my face, got out of the car, and forced a smile.

"Mom!" I threw myself into her arms before she could get a good look at my face. "I've missed you."

She was holding a shopping bag and linked her arm through mine, visibly relieved.

"You scared me to death! What were you doing sitting in the car for so long?"

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