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His Unwanted True Mate Is The Legendary White Wolf Novel Cover

His Unwanted True Mate Is The Legendary White Wolf

The Moon Goddess showed Sage a vision of her first life: bound to a silver table, her rare White Wolf blood and half her core carved out to save Alpha Kael after Rogues shattered his wolf core. He recovered, cast her aside, and left her to die in a damp basement—unable to shift, in chronic pain, forgotten. She woke still nineteen, standing where the nightmare began. When the Luna demands her blood to save Kael again, Sage refuses. "Kael can wait. I will not consent to a core extraction." This time, she chooses herself.
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Chapter 1

In the vision the Moon Goddess showed me, I was a creature of absolute submission, an Omega servant living only to serve the Blackwood Pack.

When Alpha Kael's wolf core was shattered by silver weapons while fighting dangerous Rogues for his favored girl, they demanded a miracle.

I let them bind me to a cold silver table and carve into my chest, extracting my rare White Wolf blood and half my core just to save him.

I gave him my life and my future.

But the moment he recovered, he cast me aside like garbage.

While he paraded around healthy and strong with his future Luna, I was left to rot in a damp basement room.

I suffered from agonizing chronic pain, lost my ability to shift, and ultimately died a slow, lonely death.

He didn't even look at me once.

Until my dying breath, I couldn't understand.

I had sacrificed everything for him. I was the only reason he was still breathing.

Why did my absolute devotion only earn me coldness, neglect, and an early grave?

I woke from the dream still nineteen, standing right where the nightmare began.

The Moon Goddess had shown me my fate—so I could refuse it.

This time, when the Luna demanded my blood to save her precious dying son, I looked her dead in the eye.

"Kael can wait. I will not consent to a core extraction."

In this life, I am choosing myself.

Chapter 1

Elara POV:

Blackwood Manor's stone steps leeched a deep chill through my thin cotton skirt. The crunch of a red apple was a sharp report in the quiet of the afternoon. Within this nineteen-year-old frame, a phantom ache still echoed—the ghost of air whistling through a punctured lung. The sweet juice that filled my mouth was a stark contrast to the bitter taste of death I had tasted in the vision.

I was still nineteen.

Three nights ago, the Moon Goddess had sent me a dream so vivid it left my sheets soaked in cold sweat—a vision of my own slow, lonely death. It was not merely a nightmare; it was a warning, a prophecy that tasted more real than the apple on my tongue.

In that vision, I was a creature of submission.

In this manor, an Alpha's boot heel was made for an Omega's spine, a truth I once accepted as the only law of breathing. The only exception was the Royal Academy of Runes, a neutral ground protected by the Crown, where talent trumped bloodline—and I knew my unique affinity for ancient symbols was my only ticket out.

In that vision, I believed that if I sacrificed everything for Alpha Kael, he might bestow upon me a sliver of kindness.

I had let them bind me to a silver table.

I had let them carve into my flesh to extract my rare White Wolf blood and half of my wolf core to save his life.

The White Wolf is a legend, a rare bloodline gifted by the Moon Goddess herself, capable of mending any wound.

I had seen myself give him my life; in return, he gave me coldness, neglect, and a lonely death.

A guttural roar tore me from my reverie.

I looked up. Across the courtyard, Alpha Kael stood, his muscles writhing under his skin. The sickening crack of bone splitting air announced the Change. Dark fur erupted from his flesh, and in seconds, a massive black wolf stood in his place. He let out a furious howl and charged toward the iron gates, disappearing into the gloaming of the forest.

He was off to fight a pack of dangerous Rogues for Selene, the girl he favored.

In my dream, this was the exact moment he had sprinted toward his ruin—toward claws dripping with a toxin no healer could cure.

I took another bite of my apple.

I chewed with deliberate slowness, my eyes deadened things watching his retreating form.

The heavy oak doors behind me groaned open.

The current Luna, Kael's mother, swept out onto the porch, the rustle of her expensive silks a frantic sound against the stone.

"Elara!" she shrieked, her voice thin with panic. "Why did you not stop him? Selene's family is out there, and those Rogues have venom in their claws that no wolf can survive!"

Venom that could shatter a wolf's core beyond any ordinary repair.

I swallowed the pulp in my mouth and looked up at her.

"I did not stop him because I could not," I said simply.

"You knew he was walking into a deathtrap!" she cried, her scent souring with fear.

"I am but an Omega, Luna," I replied, the words forming without tremor. "A servant's daughter. I possess neither the right nor the power to defy an Alpha's will."

The Luna stared at me as if I had sprouted a second head. She was accustomed to my begging, my crying, my willingness to throw myself before Kael as a shield.

Not today. Not after the Moon Goddess had shown me exactly where that path led.

"If your concern is so great, Luna," I said, rising and brushing the dust from my simple cotton skirt, "I suggest you ring the Pack Bell. Summon the Warriors."

The muscles in my thighs tensed with a conditioned urge to kneel, a relic of a lifetime of submission. I bit the inside of my cheek until a coppery tang filled my mouth, forcing the stiff column of my neck to turn. The hem of my skirt brushed against the rough-hewn stone as I left her shrill cry to dissipate in the air behind me.

I walked straight to the hallway and stopped before a large, antique brass mirror.

I lifted the edge of my shirt and looked at my waist.

The skin was flawless.

There was no ugly, jagged scar from the sacrificial ritual.

My wolf core was whole, and my hidden White Wolf blood was safe in my veins.

I made a vow to the girl in the mirror.

No one will ever carve into my chest again. Not for love. Not for duty. Not for an Alpha who will not even look at my corpse.

I descended the narrow, dark stairs to the basement kitchen.

The warm air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and heavy spice.

My mother, Martha, was stirring a large iron pot over the fire. She was an Omega servant, having toiled in this manor for fifteen years.

"Elara," my mother said, wiping her brow with a cloth. "I heard shouting. Is the young Alpha alright?"

"He has gone to the forest," I said, taking a wooden spoon from the counter.

I moved to the chopping board and began slicing carrots for the venison stew.

"Do not trouble yourself over him, Mother. Let us finish the dinner."

My mother looked at me, her eyes clouded with worry, but she nodded and returned to her pot.

We worked in silence.

Through the small, grimy basement window, I heard the deep, resonant toll of the Pack Bell. It was followed by the aggressive howls of the Pack Warriors gathering for the hunt.

My pulse did not quicken. My hands did not tremble.

I sat with my mother at the small wooden table in the corner of the kitchen.

We ate our simple bowls of stew in peace.

That night, I climbed to my small attic room.

I wrapped myself in my thin blanket and closed my eyes.

Around midnight, a great commotion roused the entire manor.

I heard the heavy tread of the Healers' boots rushing down the halls. I smelled the sharp, metallic tang of fresh blood, mingled with the foul, acrid scent of venom burning through flesh.

Alpha Kael had been brought back.

His wolf core had been fractured by a venom no ordinary means could heal.

I turned over in my bed, pulled the blanket to my chin, and sank into the most profound sleep I had ever known.

The Moon Goddess had shown me the price of sacrifice. In three days, they would ask me to pay it. This time, my answer was already waiting.

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