The Discarded Mate

“She’s slipping away. Stop thinking about yourself for once. Be useful. Give her your blood.”

The Alpha’s order crashed through my mind, heavy and unyielding, like shackles forged from iron snapping shut around my thoughts.

“No.” I snarled as I tore my arm from Alpha Lucien’s grasp, my wolf’s pulse hammering violently beneath my skin. “I refuse. I won’t give her a single drop of my blood.”

Lucien’s amber gaze deepened, the faint glow of his wolf surfacing as irritation sharpened his features. “Arwen, don’t do this again. You know she’s suffering from blood-sickness. The healers are powerless without you. Your blood matches hers.”

“That doesn’t make it my responsibility,” I shot back, bracing my stance like I was facing down an enemy Alpha instead of my own family. “I’m not the only one in this pack who bleeds. I’m not the only one who’s ever been in pain.”

Bastian stepped closer, his dominance crashing into me like an oppressive force I hadn’t invited. “Why are you always like this?” he snapped. “She’s dying, Arwen!”

“She’s not dying,” I hissed, my wolf raking claws against my chest, demanding to be unleashed. “She’s been pretending her whole life. Ever since we were pups, she’s acted weak just to avoid responsibility. And you all still treat her like she’s some sacred gift from the Moon.”

Silas cut in, his voice cold and slicing. “That’s enough. You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

Before I could react—before I could gather what little strength I had left—the three of them moved at once. Hands seized my arms. Their combined dominance crushed my wolf down, smothering her fury. I fought, baring my teeth, nails scraping skin, but weeks of manipulation, starvation, and untreated injuries had left me depleted. They dragged me away like a criminal, shoved me into the back of a steel-lined car, deaf to my growls and blind to the rage roaring inside me.

They took me straight to the pack infirmary.

Within an hour, I was restrained like a rogue. Silver restraints cut into my wrists as the antiseptic stench of the room drowned out every trace of wilderness inside me. My protests fell on deaf ears. The healers worked without pause, siphoning vial after vial, bag after bag, draining me dry. I watched my life bleed away to sustain a lie, while nurses exchanged uneasy glances at the excessive amount my own family demanded.

The edges of the world blurred. Darkness crept in. Then everything disappeared.

When consciousness returned, I felt empty—hollowed out. My wolf lay curled deep within me, weak and snarling softly, betrayed and starving. Ice seemed to run through my veins. My vision cleared just enough to reveal the last person I wanted to see.

Evelyn.

She sat delicately on the edge of my bed, frail as something ready to break, a tray balanced across her knees. “You’re awake,” she murmured gently, sweetness coating every word. “I brought you something to eat.”

For a fleeting second, my heart betrayed me. I wanted to believe she cared. That maybe—just maybe—she wanted me to recover.

Then memory struck, sharp and merciless.

I knocked the tray aside. Porcelain shattered against the floor, the sound echoing through the room.

The door flew open.

Alpha Lucien. Bastian. Silas.

Their scents poured in like smoke and ash, thick and suffocating.

“What is wrong with you?” Bastian roared. “She brought you food!”

“You’re impossible,” Lucien snarled. “She’s trying to mend things, and this is how you respond?”

“They forced me!” My voice fractured as fury tore its way out. “All of you did! You strapped me down like I was a traitor to this pack!”

“Arwen…” Evelyn whispered, her tone soft, syrupy, dangerous. “Please don’t act this way. I’m your sister. I only wanted to fix what’s broken between us.”

She leaned closer, her lips brushing my ear, her breath warm against my skin.

“Don’t you understand now?” she murmured. “They don’t want you anymore. So be good.”

My body went rigid, rage sparking like lightning beneath my skin.

Lucien’s stare burned into me. “Apologize. Now.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I spat, though exhaustion made my voice shake.

“Arwen,” Silas warned, Alpha authority laced thickly into his tone.

I swallowed every scream, every howl scraping my throat raw. “Fine,” I breathed. “I’m sorry.”

Not because I meant it. Not because I submitted.

But because I was too tired to fight three Alphas and a serpent all at once.

They seemed pleased, nodding like I’d finally learned my place. I turned my face away, shut my eyes, pretending to sleep while they gathered around Evelyn, comforting her, soothing her false tears. I stayed still until their scents faded and the room fell silent again.

That night, my phone vibrated.

Theo Ravenscar: Tomorrow’s the day. Are you still in?

My breathing steadied. My fingers shook before typing back.

Me: Yes.

Morning arrived heavy with dread. My body ached from blood loss, but the deeper pain sat in my chest. I wanted to stay hidden, to disappear into the infirmary’s shadows—but Alpha Lucien had already decided for me.

“We need this,” he’d said flatly, command woven into his words. “You owe Evelyn. You owe us. Stop acting childish. You promised a date. You will go.”

So I did.

Not because I wanted him. Not because hope still lived inside me. But because refusal meant more restraints, more guilt, more voices crushing me until even my wolf went silent.

I wore the same dress from our first night—the night I still believed in fate, in mates, in forever. When his touch had felt like a promise instead of a chain. When I thought I had been chosen.

He said we’d meet at the restaurant. Just us. A fresh start.

I arrived early. I sat alone. Water was poured. Time crawled. Minutes bled into hours. My phone stayed quiet. My heart felt numb.

Until it buzzed.

Evelyn: Oops. Looks like they can’t make it, sister. They’re busy with me. Enjoy dinner. Alone.

A photo followed. All of them smiling. Whole. Happy.

Once, that would have broken me.

But my wolf was waking now.

I stood, spine straight, dignity intact. I asked for the manager and left behind a small bundle wrapped in old parchment—copies of the false marriage certificate, the medical report of the pup I lost, and the ring he’d given me five years ago.

“If they come looking,” I said quietly, “tell them Arwen no longer belongs to them.”

The bell chimed as I stepped outside.

Theo Ravenscar waited at the curb, calm and unyielding, his hand extended. “Ready?”

“More than I’ve ever been,” I replied, my wolf lifting her head at last.

We drove as city lights disappeared behind us. At the airport, I removed my SIM card—years of chains reduced to plastic—and tossed it away without looking back.

As I boarded the plane beside Theo, peace settled over me like the hush before a storm.

Tomorrow, they would search. Tomorrow, they would call.

But the Moon had heard me.

And I vowed they would never find me again.