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My Fated Mate Planned My Public Rejection Novel Cover

My Fated Mate Planned My Public Rejection

On a raised platform, surrounded by the most powerful wolves in the region, Derek's words cut deep—calling her defective, Dawnridge's bad luck, a late-awakened wolf with something broken inside. Three rejections in three years, and she stands motionless, her face carved from stone, refusing to blink as years of public shame threaten to break her. But this night of humiliation ignites a fire no one anticipated, turning her curse into an unstoppable force that will change everything.
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Chapter 3

The sun beat down hot and dry on the outdoor training grounds two days later.

Shadowveil was hosting an inter-pack exhibition. Over a hundred warriors from five allied territories ringed the dirt arena. Dust hung thick in the air, smelling of sweat, leather, and wolf pine. As the future Luna, I sat in the front row of the pavilion next to Sebastian's mother, Tiana. My hands stayed folded neatly on my lap. I was trying so hard to look like I belonged.

Then Karina walked into the ring.

She wore a fitted black athletic tank and leggings, her dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail. The Silverfang delegation cheered for her from the wooden bleachers. She smiled, radiant and completely at ease.

"Next up, she-wolf hand-to-hand drills," the Gamma announced from the center.

Karina’s green eyes swept over the stands and landed directly on me. She tilted her head, offering a sweet, challenge-filled smile. "Why don’t we show the visitors how Shadowveil and Silverfang train together? Come down, Lennon. Just a friendly round."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. All eyes shifted to me.

Tiana gave a faint, dismissive hum beside me. "Go on, Lennon. Don't embarrass the pack by cowering."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and stood up. My wolf was instantly pacing behind my ribs, restless and wary. I walked down the wooden steps and into the red dirt.

"Just light contact," I said quietly as I put up my fists.

"Of course," Karina purred.

We circled each other. The crowd went quiet. At first, it looked like standard sparring. She threw a left jab; I blocked it with my forearm. She swept low; I stepped back.

Then she closed the distance.

In a tight clinch, Karina leaned in. Her body shielded the view from the stands. And suddenly, she released a sharp, foul spike of pheromones—pure, concentrated scent aggression meant to trigger a territorial rage. At the same time, her thumb dug brutally into the soft flesh of an old bruise on my hip.

"Defective little stray," she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. "You think he actually wants you?"

My wolf lost her mind.

A red haze exploded across my vision. A raw, guttural snarl ripped from my chest. My wolf surged forward, fighting for control before I could lock her down. I shoved Karina with both hands.

Karina didn't fight back. Instead, she let out a loud, pathetic gasp and threw herself backward into the dirt, clutching her wrist as if I had broken it.

"Stop!" she cried out.

I stumbled forward, thrown off balance by her sudden collapse. My foot caught a dip in the packed earth. I went down hard, crashing into the heavy timber barrier at the edge of the pit. Splintered wood tore through my leggings, ripping open my knee and scraping my ribs. Pain flared white-hot through my side.

Gasps echoed from the stands. Then, the whispers.

*Look at her. She snapped over nothing.*

*The Cursed She-Wolf. She can't even control her beast.*

*Totally unstable.*

"She provoked me!" I gasped, clutching my bleeding knee as I scrambled to sit up. "She used scent aggression—"

"Enough!"

A voice like thunder cracked across the clearing. The air flattened. Sebastian dropped into the ring from the pavilion rail.

His Alpha tone slammed down on me like an iron anvil. It vibrated in my teeth, crushing my lungs, forcing my head down toward the dirt. My throat locked up. I couldn't breathe, let alone speak.

Sebastian didn't even look at my bleeding leg. He strode straight past me and dropped to one knee beside Karina.

"Are you hurt?" his voice was tense, gentle with worry.

"I'm fine," Karina whimpered, blinking back fake tears. "I just wanted to spar. I didn't mean to upset her."

Sebastian helped Karina to her feet, his arm staying wrapped around her waist. Then he turned his dark, icy gaze on me. In front of five packs, in front of hundreds of sneering warriors, his voice boomed with heavy authority.

"Control your beast, Lennon," he commanded, his Alpha aura suffocating every wolf within fifty yards. "Shadowveil does not tolerate unprovoked violence against our guests. You are dismissed."

He walked Karina toward the healers, never once looking back.

I dragged myself up from the dirt alone. My face burned hotter than the scrapes on my skin. I kept my head down as I limped across the courtyard, every mocking stare cutting deeper than the wooden splinters in my flesh.

***

An hour later, I was sitting on the edge of the bed in our quarters.

A basin of warm water sat on the nightstand. I was dabbing a damp cloth against my bloody knee, biting my lip to keep from crying, when the bedroom door pushed open.

Sebastian walked in.

He had shed his formal jacket. He looked tired. He crossed the rug and knelt between my knees, taking the cloth gently from my trembling hand.

"Let me," he murmured.

His fingers were surprisingly warm. He dabbed the cut with practiced, gentle care. The scent of crushed cedar and electric storm rolled off him, thick and intoxicating. Instantly, my foolish wolf stirred, leaning into the warmth of the bond like a starved puppy.

"Why did you do that?" I whispered, my voice cracking. "She pinched me. She released rogue scent right in my face, Sebastian. She did it on purpose."

Sebastian paused. He looked up at me, his dark eyes brimming with what looked like genuine sorrow. He reached up, his thumb brushing a tear from my cheek.

"Lennon," he said softly, his voice full of aching patience. "Karina is from a warrior family. She plays rough. She didn't mean anything by it."

"She insulted me—"

"You're traumatized, sweetheart," he cut in gently, smoothing a lock of hair from my forehead. "Dawnridge treated you like an outcast for years. It made your wolf hyper-vigilant. You see attacks even in a friendly practice."

"I know what I felt," I argued, though the conviction in my chest was beginning to waver under his steady gaze.

"You need discipline, not defense," he whispered. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against mine. His breath was warm on my lips. "I had to reprimand you out there. The other Alphas were watching. If I don't hold my future Luna accountable, our pack looks weak. Do you understand?"

He pulled me into his chest. His strong arms wrapped tightly around my waist, lifting me slightly against his body.

The mate bond hummed between us, a golden, radiant heat that drowned out the throbbing pain in my knee. My wolf whimpered and buried her nose into his chest, totally defenseless against him.

I rested my chin on his broad shoulder, closing my eyes. I hated myself. I hated how easily his touch disarmed me. I hated how desperately, pathetically, I still wanted to believe he loved me.

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