Rejecting My Heartless Ex Mate

The first big case I tackled after transferring back to Shalandra Pack was my mate Jonathan Kingsley's scandal with a she-wolf he'd been chasing.

The case file lay open on my desk, the black-and-white words stinging my eyes like a claw to the heart.

Noticing my daze, my subordinate Ethan Brooks offered some context, his tone kind but cautious.

"Madeline, you just got back, so you might not know the full scoop. This mess involves Jonathan, the richest wolf in Shalandra Pack, and his little she-wolf Tiffany Monroe."

He leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "They're the pack's hottest pair, the ultimate old-wolf-young-she-wolf vibe. The age gap? Total spark material."

His grin carried a knowing edge. "Word is, yesterday Tiffany threw a fit because Jonathan wasn't spending enough time with her. She called the enforcers on him-pure mate drama, nothing serious."

I didn't respond, just stood and headed for the mediation den.

The door was cracked open, and there was Jonathan, kneeling beside a couch, one knee bent like he was offering tribute. He used his seven-figure tailored suit jacket to wipe a splash of milk tea off Tiffany's shoes, his movements as careful as if he were handling a sacred relic.

Tiffany dangled her foot, her voice dripping with playful scorn. "Jonathan, are you dense? I called the enforcers on you, and you're *still* this sweet to me?"

Jonathan looked up, his eyes glowing with a devotion I'd never seen. "Little moon, if it makes you happy, I'd give you my life."

The hallway lights flickered above, mirroring the way my heart plummeted into a void.

If he loves playing these games with enforcer calls, then I, his chosen mate, will personally see him dragged into the den.

Clutching the summons, I turned to Ethan. "Take them to the questioning den. Follow protocol."

Ethan hesitated, his face twisting with unease. "Madeline, is that. necessary? You just got back. Jonathan's kind of a big deal in Shalandra Pack-"

"I don't care who he is," I cut him off, my voice icing over. "Filing a false report disrupts pack order. Enforcer dens don't bend the rules for anyone."

Ethan swallowed hard, mumbling a quick "Yes, ma'am," before pushing open the mediation den door.

The room erupted with noise.

Tiffany's voice was sharp with annoyance. "Why are you hauling us in? I already said it was just a prank!"

Jonathan's voice followed, calm but laced with indulgence. "Easy, pup. Just cooperate, and it'll be fine."

Footsteps approached. Tiffany stormed out first, pouting like a spoiled cub. "This is *your* fault! I told you to go shopping with me yesterday, but nooo, you had to run off to some meeting. That's why I called the enforcers!"

Jonathan jogged to keep up, his demeanor bordering on groveling. "I'll have my assistant grab every high-end piece from this season. You can pick whatever you want."

Tiffany spun around, and I got a good look at her. A petite face, bright eyes, and pearly teeth-she was undeniably stunning. Her bubblegum-pink hair and a skirt so short it barely covered her thighs screamed youthful defiance. At just over twenty, she radiated a vibrant, untamed energy.

Me? I'm the she-wolf in a stiff enforcer uniform, worlds apart from her wild spark.

A dull ache lodged in my chest, heavy and suffocating.

Jonathan Kingsley is no ordinary wolf. He's the alpha at the top of Shalandra Pack's hierarchy, the kind other wolves bow to. Yet here he was, practically begging Tiffany, his voice soft and coaxing. "Don't be mad. Next time, I'll skip the meeting and go shopping with you. Deal?"

Tiffany huffed, slowing her pace but not answering.

I watched them disappear into the questioning den. The door clicked shut, sealing away their cloying chemistry.

Ethan approached. "Madeline, who's handling the report?"

"You are," I said, my voice rough. "Get the full story behind the call. Every detail."

Ethan nodded and slipped inside.

Soon, Tiffany's voice echoed through the door, brimming with smug pride. "Enforcer, I told you, it was just for fun. He's always buried in pack business. Getting him to stroll with me? Harder than climbing a mountain."

Ethan must've asked about the scandal, because the room went quiet for a beat before Tiffany's laugh rang out. "That was just me being dramatic. A few days ago, he wanted to spice things up, tied my wrists with his tie. I was just mad he was more into his own thrill, so I said what I said."

She paused, probably showing off. "Look, I've still got marks on my wrists. He seems all serious, but trust me, he's."

Her words grew bolder, too raw to keep listening to. I turned and leaned against the wall, my mind a tangled mess.

Jonathan and I have been bound for three years.

His pack is old-money Shalandra royalty; mine's a deep-rooted clan from Belmor Pack's political elite. When we formed our sacred bond, everyone called it the perfect alliance, a match made in the stars.

We played the part of the model mates-attending pack gatherings together, exchanging thoughtful gifts, me handling his difficult kin while he kept up appearances. But only I knew how hollow our bond felt.

Jonathan was always distant, his smiles rare, his touch mechanical, even in our most intimate moments. Last year, I grit my teeth and requested a transfer back to Shalandra Pack, stepping down from a high-ranking post in Belmor Pack's core to lead this outpost. Everyone saw it as a demotion dressed up as a promotion.

I thought being closer might kindle some warmth between us.

What a joke.

I gave up a promising path to come back, only to witness my mate show a vibrant, burning side of himself to another she-wolf-a side I'd never glimpsed.