Second Chance Mate Regretted

"Roll down," Jaxon ordered, his voice like a blade. "Do it, and I'll let this slide."

I clung to the railing, my knuckles pink. "Jaxon, she's not Lauren! Is she worth losing your damn mind over?"

"As long as she's close enough to Lauren, yeah, she is," he snarled, his eyes dark and vicious. "Since you won't take your punishment willingly-push her."

One of the guards shoved me hard. I screamed as I tumbled down the stairs, my body slamming into the steps. Glass shards bit into my flesh, blood pooling and trailing down the steps like a lake.

I struggled to push myself up, my vision swimming, but before I could steady myself, they dragged me back up. Another shove. Another fall.

Again. And again.

Until I couldn't move anymore. Blood sprayed from my mouth, staining my shirt red. Everything went black.

When I came to, the nurses' whispers drifted down the hall.

"Aubrey's scratch healed days ago, but Jaxon's still fawning over her, like she's made of glass."

"Meanwhile, the she-wolf in 302? She's a wreck. Covered in wounds, and not a soul's brought her food."

"Heard she's his real mate."

"Shh, don't talk about it."

I shut my eyes, tears slipping silently down my cheeks.

I lingered in the healer's den a few more days, my body wasting away. The painkillers couldn't touch the cancer's fire in my gut anymore. I knew staying here was pointless, so I checked myself out early.

When I got home, Jaxon was in the living room, about to brush past me into his study like I was invisible. I leaned against the wall, weak, and called out, "Jaxon, my birthday's in Three days."

"So?" He turned, raising an eyebrow.

"I want to spend my last birthday with you."

"Last?" He scoffed. "What, you in a rush to kick the bucket?"

I smiled faintly. "Yeah, you could say that. Will you do it?"

He thought I was just mouthing off. "Sure," he said, smirking. "I'll make it a birthday you won't forget." The way he leaned on "unforgettable" dripped with malice.

On my birthday, I followed the address Jaxon texted me to a hotel. When I pushed open the door, I froze.

The banquet hall was decked out like a funeral parlor. A coffin sat dead center, surrounded by wreaths of chrysanthemums. My "memorial" photo hung on the wall, blown up for all to see. The guests wore black, armbands pinned to their sleeves, staring at me like I was the main act in some twisted play.

"Like it?" Jaxon stepped out from the crowd, his smile sharp and mocking. "Margot, I planned your funeral just for you."

I stared at my photo, then laughed softly. "I love it."

He blinked, clearly thrown. "If you love it," he said, his voice turning icy, "go stand by your coffin."

He gestured, and a few of his wolf buddies stepped forward, lighting incense and waving it at me like I was already gone.

"Die quick and move on, Margot," one sneered.

"Don't cross Jaxon in your next life," another added.

"Rest in peace."

I smiled and nodded, taking it all in stride.

When the "ceremony" ended, I turned to leave, but Jaxon grabbed my arm. "What's your deal?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, calm as could be.

"Why didn't you trash this place?" He stared me down, eyes burning. "You hate it when I humiliate you."

I met his gaze, steady and quiet. "Because this isn't humiliation. I really like your gift."

After all, I'm actually dying.