Rejected at My Own Birthday Celebration

The curfew was his idea.

After Erik and I completed the marking ceremony, solidifying our mate bond, we settled into a home near my parents’ territory. Occasionally, I’d stay for dinner and a chat with them, only to realize it was well past midnight. Erik never called to check on me, but when I returned, the living room would be dark, save for the faint glow of his cigarette in the moonlight filtering through the windows.

"Finally decided to come back?" His voice was low, laced with the alpha tone that still sent a shiver down my spine despite his status as a Lycan Prince. "Don’t you understand what being my mate means?"

I explained I was at my parents’ house, but he just snorted, his wolfish eyes narrowing. "From now on, curfew at 10 p.m. If you’re late, don’t bother coming back."

After that, I always returned on time, sometimes rushing through the forest paths to make it. My parents, ever supportive, thought it was a sign of our deep bond and couldn’t stop smiling. "You’re an adult now, still have a curfew? We never set such rules even when you were young," my father, Alpha Ambrose, teased.

Now, standing at the airport, staring at his curfew message, a mix of emotions surged within me. My fingers hovered over the reply box, yet I couldn’t bring myself to type a single word. It felt like savoring a feast, only to realize it had no flavor.

He sent another message: "We had an agreement, didn’t we?"

The taxi I booked was waiting by the curb. The driver, a werewolf with a scent of pine and earth, nodded respectfully as I approached. I paused for a moment, then replied, "There’s no 'we' anymore."

I opened the car door and slid in. Erik started calling immediately. I didn’t answer, but he stubbornly kept dialing. When I finally picked up, his voice came through, hurried and tense.

"Elena, where are you?" His alpha tone was impossible to ignore, even over the phone.

The driver turned to me, his amber eyes respectful. "Heading to that hotel, right, Miss White?"

I nodded, and Erik erupted on the other end. "You’re going to a hotel in the middle of the night? Who’s the guy?"

His voice was so loud I instinctively held the phone away. I almost handed it to the driver to explain, but stopped myself. Why should I explain anything?

Just a few hours ago, Erik and I had finalized the rejection of our mate bond. I had stood before the pack, my heart aching but my voice steady, as I recited the words: "I, Elena White, daughter of Alpha Ambrose Bell, reject you, Erik Hawkins, Lycan Prince of the Silvermoon Pack, as my mate." The bond between us had shattered, leaving only a hollow ache in its place.

From now on, the horizon was clear, and I no longer had to interpret the meaning behind his frowns or endure the weight of his expectations. I was never so calm, and I told him firmly, "Erik, I don’t need to report to you anymore."

After hanging up, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I realized that in moments of sadness, I too could hang up on him, and even block him, if I wished. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his expression neutral but his scent carrying a hint of sympathy. I leaned back in the seat, staring out at the passing city lights, and for the first time in years, I felt free.