Rejected Mate, New Destiny

The summons to Alpha Marcus's office came at dawn. I straightened my training gear and made my way across the compound, my wolf stirring with anticipation. Something important was brewing.

"Eleanora." Alpha Marcus's voice carried the weight of command as I entered. "We have a situation."

I stood at attention, my gaze fixed on the map spread across his desk. It showed our territory bordered by unclaimed land—rogue territory.

"Our intelligence suggests the rogues are planning an attack," he continued, his finger tracing the border. "We need someone to infiltrate their camp, gather concrete information on their numbers, leadership, and timeline."

My heart pounded. This was exactly the kind of mission I'd trained for.

"You're our best tracker and infiltrator," Marcus said, his eyes meeting mine. "I need you to go in, get what we need, and get out safely."

"I won't fail the pack," I replied, the words coming automatically.

"The extraction team will be coordinated by Beta Keaton," Marcus added. "He'll ensure you have backup when you need it."

Keaton. My chosen mate. The one who'd saved me from rogues years ago. I nodded, pushing away the strange unease that flickered through our bond.

---

The pre-mission briefing was held in the war room. I studied the maps intently, memorizing every detail of the rogue territory. This mission would take me deep behind enemy lines for at least three days.

"Any questions?" Alpha Marcus asked.

I glanced at Keaton, who stood near the door, his expression distant. "What's the extraction protocol if I'm compromised?"

"You'll send the distress signal through the mind-link," Keaton replied, not quite meeting my eyes. "We'll be monitoring continuously."

Something in his tone made my wolf bristle. I pushed the feeling aside. This was Keaton—my Beta, my chosen mate. He'd never let me down before.

Later that night, I prepared alone in our den, checking and rechecking my equipment. Keaton hadn't returned from his "late meetings" about mission logistics.

"He's just busy," I whispered to my reflection as I braided my hair. "This is important."

But the distance I felt through our bond grew wider with each passing hour.

---

The rogue territory was worse than I'd imagined. After three days of careful infiltration, I'd gathered crucial intelligence—numbers, attack plans, leadership structure. I'd been careful to leave no trace of my presence.

Until I hadn't.

"There!" A rough voice cut through the darkness. "Someone's been here!"

I froze, then ran. My scent had been detected near their main encampment.

"Get her!"

They surrounded me—at least eight rogues, their eyes gleaming with malice in the moonlight. I fought with everything I had, taking down two, then three. But they kept coming.

"Now!" I called through the mind-link, sending the distress signal to Keaton. "I need extraction!"

Nothing.

I dodged a clawed attack, feeling my side tear open. Blood soaked my shirt.

"Backup should be here any minute," I told myself, parrying another blow.

Minutes stretched into an hour. The rogues' claws found me again and again. Eighteen wounds across my body. Each breath became agony.

"Keaton!" I cried through our bond, desperation flooding through me. "Where are you?"

Silence.

I staggered, blood loss making my vision blur. One rogue lunged, sinking teeth into my arm. I screamed, twisting away.

"No one's coming for you," their leader sneered. "No one even knows you're here."

With the last of my strength, I broke free of their circle. My legs trembled as I ran, each step leaving a bloody print. Behind me, the rogues howled in frustration.

I kept running, even as darkness crept into the edges of my vision. My wolf whimpered, weakening with each wound. We'd been abandoned.

---

"Eleanora!"

The voice seemed to come from far away. I felt gentle hands lifting me.

"Stay with us," Garrett Flynn's voice urged. "We found you at the border."

I tried to focus on his face, but everything was hazy. Blood—my blood—pooled beneath me.

"Keaton..." I whispered.

"The Beta is on his way," Garrett lied, his expression tight.

Iris Mendoza's face appeared above me as they carried me to the healing ward. Her eyes widened at the extent of my injuries.

"We need to work quickly," she said, her voice clinical despite the horror in her eyes. "Eighteen wounds... some nearly fatal."

I drifted in and out of consciousness as she worked, documenting everything with meticulous care.

"The pattern of injuries indicates prolonged solo combat," she murmured to her assistant. "Look at these defensive wounds on her arms—she dragged herself miles after being attacked."

My wolf retreated deep within me, too weak to help heal the damage. Through the haze of pain, I reached for Keaton through our bond.

Nothing but emptiness.

"Why?" I whispered as darkness claimed me. "Why didn't you come?"