The Alpha Who Signed Her Rejection

In the memory-crystal projection, Aurora displayed her so-called intended mate's devotion without a trace of shame.

Rare moonstone jewelry from the Northern territories. Tribute ledgers showing wealth transfers. Scent-marked images from pilgrimages across distant pack lands. Intimate captures of him preparing her meals in the den kitchen, tending to her after hunts, kneeling to massage her feet after long ceremonies.

The howl-comments beneath the shared projection overflowed with envy.

This is what a dream courtship looks like.

Wealthy AND devoted? My wolf is howling with jealousy.

Aurora never bothered to clarify their actual bond status. She let every pack member assume whatever they wished.

When Fenris finally returned my howl-call, his excuse was laughably thin.

"I was occupied with territory matters earlier. Didn't catch your signal. What do you need?"

Just as I suspected—he'd completely forgotten he was supposed to escort me from the Healer's Lodge.

Through the connection, I could hear Aurora's laughter, clear as moonlight on still water.

Yet he didn't miss a beat. "I'm in the middle of an alliance negotiation. If it's not urgent, can we speak when I return to the den?"

"It's fine," I said quietly. "I just wanted to know where you were."

After severing the howl-call, I opened my personal ledger and traced the marked dates with one claw.

One week remained in Aurora's bond dissolution cooling period.

Two weeks until my own Bond Rejection agreement took effect.

Soon.

There was no point in letting my wolf grieve anymore.

Hadn't I already decided to release this bond?

When I pushed open the heavy oak doors of the Alpha's Keep, I almost thought I'd wandered into the wrong den.

This place that had held five years of my secret mating was now completely transformed.

The last time I departed, I'd already packed up most of my belongings. But now, Aurora had clearly taken advantage of my absence to dispose of whatever traces of my scent remained.

I walked slowly toward the Alpha's private bathing chamber.

On Fenris's side of the stone vanity sat a pair of matching grooming brushes—one carved from red cedar, one from blue spruce. His and hers.

I stood frozen, my enhanced senses picking up every detail in the room. Everywhere I looked, things came in pairs.

Matching drinking vessels. Matching fur-lined slippers. Matching embroidered cushions bearing intertwined wolf motifs.

Anyone walking in would think this was some scent-bonded pair's intimate sanctuary.

I suddenly remembered the first year of our secret mating, when I'd excitedly commissioned a set of paired ceremonial cups for us.

Fenris had barely glanced at them. "What's the purpose of such sentimental trinkets?"

I never asked for anything like that again.

I drew a deep breath, forced myself to look past all of it, and returned to my small chamber to pack up what little remained of my things.

Fenris's double standards were nothing new. I'd experienced them so many times my wolf had gone numb to the sting.

I boxed up my last few pieces of clothing and a handful of leather-bound journals, summoned a pack courier, and had everything transported back to my parents' Bloodline Keep.

That evening, Fenris and I each received message-sigils inviting us to a gathering hosted by allied pack members at a prestigious estate.

Since the invitations had been sent separately—one to the Ashvale bloodline, one to the Duskmoors—we arrived on our own.

When I reached the moonlit vineyard grounds of the hosting pack, I saw Fenris helping Aurora descend from his carriage.

He caught my scent before he saw me, and something flickered across his features—discomfort, maybe guilt. Still, he approached. "I apologize. I should have sent a pack guard to escort you."

"No need." I kept my expression polished and pleasant. "I have my own escort."

As guests continued to arrive, someone asked curiously, "Alpha Duskmoor, when did you and the Ashvale daughter become so familiar?"

Fenris's mouth opened, but nothing emerged.

He clearly remembered his promise to publicly acknowledge our bond at formal gatherings. But then he glanced at Aurora, her arm wrapped possessively around his, her scent deliberately mingled with his, and the words died in his throat.

I smiled easily. "Have you forgotten? Alpha Duskmoor is my pack leader now. Of course we're familiar. I serve as his Omega Pack Liaison."

"The eldest daughter of the Ashvale bloodline, serving as Alpha Duskmoor's Omega assistant?" The wolf's tone was half-teasing, half-pitying. "Isn't that beneath your station? Don't tell me you still haven't released your attachment to him. The Alpha already has a mate."

Low howls of amusement rippled through the gathered wolves.

My unrequited feelings for Fenris were an open secret among these elite packs—known to everyone except him.

Fenris went completely still.