His Regret Means Nothing When You're the White Wolf

Chloe POV

The small wooden table in my parents' house was filled with warm, comforting food.

We lived in the Omega family district, a quiet neighborhood far away from the grand Pack House.

I sat across from my mother and father, my hands folded tightly in my lap.

"Mom, Dad," I started, my voice steady. "I am going to quit my job as a healer at the Pack Hospital."

My mother dropped her fork. It clattered loudly against her ceramic plate.

My father stared at me, his eyes wide with shock.

They knew how much I had sacrificed to get that position.

They knew it was my only way to stay close to the Alpha, my fated mate.

"Are you sure, my sweet girl?" my father asked softly, his eyes full of worry.

"Yes," I nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over me.

My parents did not ask any more questions.

My mother reached across the table and held my hands, while my father gave me a warm, supportive smile.

They were Omegas, weak in power, but their love for me was an unbreakable shield.

Later that night, I lay in my narrow childhood bed, staring at the ceiling.

My mind drifted back to the day Jaxon experienced his first Shift.

Turning into a wolf for the first time at eighteen was a brutal, bone-breaking agony.

I had stayed by his side, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

He had looked at me with tired eyes and told me I had a gentle touch.

That single, pitying compliment was the reason I pushed through the class barriers.

I studied ancient medical texts until my eyes bled, just to become a healer for him.

But all my effort only earned his disrespect.

He was a proud Alpha. He refused to give me the Marking, the permanent bite on the neck that would claim me as his Luna.

The next day at noon, I sat alone in the bustling pack dining hall.

A piece of rough parchment, my carefully penned resignation letter to the Elder Council, was already folded into a neat, sharp-edged square in my pocket.

I took a bite of my plain bread, ignoring the loud chatter of the warriors around me.

Suddenly, the scent of lavender and sterile alcohol filled my nose.

Serena sat down across from me, placing her silver tray on the table.

She leaned in, her beautiful face twisted into an expression of fake guilt.

"Chloe, I am so sorry about last night," she whispered, her eyes scanning my face for a reaction.

"Jaxon and I were up so late in the Pack House. We were in the same room all night, just looking at maps. I hope you aren't mad."

I knew what she was doing.

She expected my inner wolf to go crazy with jealousy.

An un-marked mate's territory had been invaded, which usually drove a female wolf into a blind rage.

I looked at her calmly, feeling not a single ripple, as placid as a stagnant pool.

"It is fine, Serena. The pack's safety comes first," I replied, my voice flat.

Serena frowned, clearly disappointed by my lack of tears.

Before she could say another word, the heavy wooden doors of the dining hall swung open.

Jaxon walked in, his tall, muscular frame drawing everyone's attention.

His scent, a powerful storm of pine and rain, rolled over the room.

He walked straight to our table and placed a small, crystal plate in front of Serena.

On the plate sat a rare moon-glow berry cake, a dessert almost impossible to find.

"Here is your prize, Serena," Jaxon said, a handsome smirk playing on his lips.

He looked down at me, his eyes full of amusement.

"I told you she wouldn't throw a fit. Chloe has finally grown up. She isn't acting like a jealous, possessive mate anymore."

The din of the dining hall was instantly siphoned away, leaving only the cloying, nauseatingly sweet scent of that cake in my ears.

A wave of bile surged up my throat, bringing with it a burning sensation.

They had made a bet.

The two people I trusted most in this world had used my mate bond, my deepest emotional pain, as a game.

My inner wolf threw herself against the bars of her mental cage, howling in pure, unadulterated fury.

The wooden chair scraped backward, its legs shrieking against the flagstones.

I rose to my feet, my spine a rigid line.

I looked directly into Jaxon's dark eyes.

The air around us grew thick with tension. The entire dining hall went dead silent.

I took a deep breath, letting the ancient, sacred words fall from my lips.

"I, Chloe, reject you, Alpha Jaxon, as my mate."

Jaxon froze.

His confident smirk vanished, replaced by a flash of absolute shock.

I saw his hand twitch as a sharp pain hit his chest.

But Serena jumped up immediately, grabbing his arm.

"Jaxon, please don't be mad at her," Serena pleaded, her voice loud enough for the whole room to hear.

"She is just upset about last night. She is just acting out because she wants your attention."

Jaxon's shock quickly turned into a dark, freezing anger.

He looked at me as if I were a disgusting insect he had found on his shoe.

He believed Serena. He thought I was using a sacred ritual just to force him to give me the Marking.

"You are making a fool of yourself, Chloe," he growled, his Alpha aura leaking out and pressing down on the room.

"You are a disgrace to this pack."

He turned his back on me, grabbing Serena's hand and pulling her out of the dining hall.

I stood there alone, the eyes of a hundred wolves burning into my skin.

I picked up my tray and dumped my untouched food into the bin.

As I walked out of the hall, the first wave of the Rejection hit me.

It felt like a great, hollow cavity had been carved out of my chest, leaving my soul exposed and ragged.

I gripped the stone wall of the corridor, gasping for air as cold sweat dripped down my face.

I forced myself to keep walking.

I had to get to the Elder Council to submit my resignation.

When I finally handed the parchment to the head Elder, he looked at me with pity.

"It will take a month to hand over your duties, Chloe," he said slowly.

"I can wait," I whispered, holding my bleeding soul together.

*I did not tell him that my soul was not just bleeding—it was cracking along fault lines I had never known existed. And in those cracks, something ancient was beginning to breathe. *