Rejected Mate’s Redemption

The pack had organized a gathering in the woods, a tradition to strengthen bonds and let off steam after a full moon. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the clearing, someone suggested we make the night more interesting. A game of drawing lots would decide who would share a tent for the night.

I didn’t want to join in, but Lena, a Delta in the Silver Fang Pack and Gregory’s closest confidante, drew the number for our tent. She looked at us with those pleading eyes of hers, and Gregory, the Alpha of the Silver Fang Pack, immediately let go of my hand.

“Are you really going to make her feel awkward now?” he snapped, his Alpha tone sharp and commanding.

“Eleanora, could you stop being so uptight for once?”

They climbed into the tent in front of everyone. Through the gap, I saw Gregory’s restless hand, his fingers twitching as if eager to reach for something—or someone. When it was my turn to draw, Gregory laughed, a cruel sound that echoed through the clearing.

“She’s too rigid to play along,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Just then, Keith Walker, the Alpha of the Blue Moon Pack, approached me. His presence was commanding, his tall, muscular frame towering over most of the others. He extended his hand, his piercing gaze locking onto mine.

“Want to share a tent with me?” he asked, his voice low but firm.

The pack fell silent. Everyone knew Keith rarely involved himself in such games, and rumors of his disinterest in mates were widespread. Yet under their watchful eyes, I took his hand and walked into a tent, leaving Gregory outside, his phone buzzing incessantly as he tried to call me.

---

As evening deepened, the organizer, seeing the shortage of tents, jokingly proposed, “Mates in one tent, and everyone else partners up.”

Gregory and I were mated, so one tent should have been perfect for us. Or so I thought. As I relaxed a little, a single pack member raised his hand with a cheeky grin.

“Why should mated pairs get a tent while we single folks have to pair up?”

“And let’s face it, didn’t we all come here hoping to meet someone special? There’s no fun in splitting up.”

“Plus, check out the she-wolves here; they only have eyes for the Alphas, leaving us hanging.”

His words brought laughter and agreement from the group.

The organizer asked, “So, what’s your idea?”

“Why not draw lots to decide who shares a tent?”

“It’s fair, and everyone gets a chance.”

His idea was met with cheers, the pack members excited at the prospect of pairing up with someone attractive for the night. As they eagerly gathered paper and pens, I tugged at Gregory’s sleeve.

“Greg, this game isn’t for us. Let’s just leave…”

I thought, considering we were mated, they wouldn’t mess with us. But Gregory gave me an annoyed look and pulled his sleeve free.

“It’s just a game. Why are you such a buzzkill? You can leave if you want; I’m staying.”

Gregory spoke in a hushed tone, his voice tinged with irritation. I opened my mouth to argue but ultimately lowered my head.

We’d only been mated a short time; our parents had arranged it. He was an Alpha, handsome and powerful, a catch in any pack. My parents often said being his mate was like winning the lottery.

But in reality, Gregory had never been kind to me. When angry, he might not speak to me for days or even weeks until I cried and begged for forgiveness. I was used to this dynamic, and Gregory’s rebuke left me speechless.

By then, the men had already scribbled numbers and crumpled them into balls for everyone to pick.

“If you draw the same number, you share a tent.”

It was a thrilling game, and surprisingly, the mated pairs were the first to grab numbers. Even when split up, they cheerily accepted their fate, teasing each other about their willingness to take a chance.

I had always been under strict guidance from my parents, who raised me to be proper. I never dared to take such a bold step.

My palms were sweaty, and just as I tried to muster the courage to speak to Gregory, I heard a familiar voice.

“I’ve drawn number three…”

I turned toward the voice to see Lena, her ponytail swinging, looking our way with pursed lips.

Number three?

I glanced at the number Gregory had just revealed. It was the same.

But why, of all people, was it Lena…

Lena was a Delta in the Silver Fang Pack and Gregory’s closest confidante, aware of things I didn’t even know. No she-wolf would want such a close female friend around her mate.

Whenever I voiced my discomfort over their relationship, Gregory’s reaction was always impatient.

“Seriously, Eleanora, stop being so narrow-minded!”

“Lena and I are just packmates! If we wanted to be together, it would’ve happened ages ago!”

Gregory had said those words with such certainty back then. Yet now, facing Lena, he was at a loss for words.

“Greg…”

Lena said nothing, only gazed at him with a helpless look. Gregory, who usually ignored my pleas, couldn’t withstand her gaze for even thirty seconds.

As he stood up, I clung to his wrist.

“Greg, you can’t do this; I’m here too, I…”

Just moments ago, Gregory had looked at Lena with tenderness, but now he frowned at me.

“Are you really going to embarrass her now?”

“Her mate just died; she’s at her most vulnerable!”

“Eleanora, could you stop being so petty!”

Gregory shook off my hand and followed Lena into the tent. Through the tent flap, I watched Lena’s hand slide onto Gregory’s inner thigh. My wolf whimpered softly in the back of my mind, a sound of pain and betrayal that only I could hear.