Rejected By My Cruel Fated Mate

Gavin POV

The cold seeped into my bones, pulling me from a brief, nightmare-fueled unconsciousness. I opened my eyes to the sight of shattered crystal and splintered mahogany. I was still on the marble floor of the grand foyer, surrounded by the wreckage of my own making.

My head throbbed violently, but it was nothing compared to the gaping, bleeding void in my chest where my Mate-bond used to be. My inner wolf was pacing endlessly in my mind, letting out pathetic, agonizing whimpers for a female I had sworn I didn't love. The contradiction was tearing my sanity apart.

I pushed myself up, my muscles stiff. Out of pure, ingrained habit, I reached out through the mind-link. *“Bastian, get this place cleaned up.”*

Dead silence.

The reality crashed over me like a tidal wave. Bastian was gone. The man who had practically raised me had looked at me with utter disgust and walked away. I was completely, utterly alone.

I needed to do something. I needed to regain a fraction of control before the guilt swallowed me whole. I would give Elara a memorial fit for a true Luna. It was the only pathetic piece of atonement I could offer her.

Hours later, the air at the Memorial Clearing was thick with the scent of pine, damp earth, and profound grief. Hundreds of my pack members stood in a solemn circle around the massive, unhewn black granite stone.

I stepped forward, my hands trembling slightly as I placed a bouquet of pale moonflowers at the base of the stone—the very flowers Bastian had picked for her when I couldn't be bothered.

Before I could even step back, a cloying, sickeningly sweet scent invaded my senses.

Someone crashed into my back, wrapping their arms tightly around my waist. A loud, theatrical sob shattered the silence of the clearing. I looked down and saw a stark white dress—a color strictly reserved in our traditions for the grieving Mate of the deceased.

"Gavin! Oh, Goddess, how could this happen to us?" Piper Holloway wailed, burying her face in my spine, trying to cement our bond in front of the entire pack.

My inner wolf snarled, a visceral wave of pure disgust and bloodlust rolling through me. She was using my Mate's memorial as a stage.

I didn't just pull away; I violently tore myself from her grip and shoved her hard. Piper shrieked as she hit the dirt, her pristine white dress staining with mud.

She looked up at me, her eyes wide with fake tears, ready to spin another web of lies. I didn't give her the chance. I turned to face my pack, letting the raw, devastating power of my Alpha aura explode outward.

"I have only one Mate, one Luna, and her name is Elara Thorne!" I roared, my voice echoing through the trees, vibrating with endless remorse. I pointed a shaking, clawed finger at the woman on the ground. "This woman... is her murderer!"

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Piper’s face drained of color. "Gavin, no, you're confused—"

"Silence!" I snapped. I locked eyes with my Gamma, who was already stepping forward. "Gamma Jaren! Drag her out of my territory. If she ever sets foot here again, kill her on sight."

"You can't do this to me!" Piper screamed, thrashing wildly as Jaren and three Warriors grabbed her arms, hauling her up. "I am an Alpha's daughter!"

"You are nothing to me," I spat.

The pack watched in cold silence as she was dragged away, her curses fading into the distance. The spectacle was over, but the hollow ache in my chest only deepened.

As the crowd began to disperse, a heavy hand clamped onto my shoulder, spinning me around.

*Smack.*

The backhand caught me completely off guard, snapping my head to the side. The sharp sting of the slap radiated across my jaw. I didn't raise a hand to defend myself. I just looked into the furious, disappointed eyes of my father, Louis Blackwood.

"You let a snake into our home," the former Alpha snarled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that commanded respect. "You let her murder your own blood, and shamed your Mate even in her death! Is this how a Blackwood Alpha acts?"

I swallowed hard, the metallic taste of blood on my tongue. I had no defense. Every word he spoke was a nail in my coffin. I had failed as a protector, as a Mate, and as an Alpha.

My father turned his back on me in disgust, walking away without another word.

Suffocating under the weight of my catastrophic failures, I turned away from the clearing. I dragged my heavy feet back toward the manor, back to the ruined grand foyer, knowing my display of weakness had already drawn the vultures out from the shadows.