His Unwanted Mate: Awakening The White Wolf

Eliana POV

The sun rose the next morning with an indifference that felt cruel, climbing the sky as if my world hadn't shattered the night before.

I walked to the training grounds, my body feeling brittle, every step a conscious effort against the gravity of my grief. Jax was there, laughing with a group of Betas. The sound was vibrant and carefree until he saw me.

His laughter cut off abruptly. He closed the distance between us, his expression smoothing into a mask of practiced concern.

"Eliana," he said, reaching out to touch my shoulder. "About last night... Catalina was just startled. Are you okay?"

I stepped back, letting his hand fall into empty air. The electricity that should have been there was gone, replaced by a cold void.

"I'm fine, Alpha Jax."

He flinched at the title as if I had struck him. "Don't call me that. We're still... friends. I'll make sure people treat you right."

"Friends don't drown friends," I said flatly.

He frowned, annoyance flickering behind his eyes. "You're being dramatic. I have a duty to the pack. Catalina is strong. She can help us grow. You... you haven't even shifted."

"I understand," I said. And I did. I understood that his ambition was far heavier than his heart.

I walked away. I didn't look back.

Over the next week, I became a ghost in my own home. I changed my training schedule to avoid him. I ate in the kitchen standing up instead of sitting in the dining hall.

But I couldn't escape the changes.

Catalina's scent—a cloying, artificial rose that stung the nose—began to permeate the pack house. I saw her things in Jax's room. A silk scarf strangled the back of his chair. Her boots kicked off carelessly by his door.

One afternoon, I passed the common room. Catalina was sitting on Jax's lap, whispering in his ear. When she saw me, her fingers tightened on the nape of his neck, her nails digging in slightly—a silent claim.

Jax looked up, saw me, and for a second, regret flashed across his face. Then Catalina giggled, a sharp, tinkling sound, and his attention snapped back to her.

I went to my room and opened my drawer. Inside was a small wooden wolf Jax had carved for my tenth birthday. It was crude, the ears uneven and the snout too long, but it had been my most prized possession.

I took it to the pack's lost and found box in the hallway and dropped it in.

The hollow *thud* sounded final.

At the pack meeting that Friday, Catalina stood beside Jax. She adjusted his collar, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder with a possessive smirk.

"They look perfect together," a Beta female whispered near me.

"Ideally suited," another agreed. "Eliana would have been a liability."

I stood in the shadows, silent. I felt nothing. No anger. No jealousy. Just a profound, exhausting numbness that settled in my bones like frost.

Jax glanced at me during his speech. I didn't look away. I didn't smile. I just stared, my face a blank canvas.

He faltered mid-sentence, losing his place for a moment. Catalina touched his arm, grounding him, and he continued.

Later, in the hallway, he cornered me. "Why are you acting like this? I'm doing what's best for everyone."

"I haven't done anything, Jax," I said softly. "I'm just existing."

"You threw away the wolf," he accused, his voice tight. "I saw it in the bin."

"It was just clutter," I replied, my voice devoid of the warmth he was used to. "I'm decluttering my life."