The Healer He Rejected: A White Wolf Reborn

Arminda POV:

The silence in the car ride home was thick enough to choke on. Coleton had recovered quickly thanks to my antidote, but his pride was bruised. He refused to look at me.

I spent the rest of the day in the servants' quarters, nursing my silver burns and planning my route out of the territory. I had one day left.

The next morning, however, Coleton summoned me again.

"Get dressed," he said, throwing a garment bag at me. "We are going to an art gallery."

"I am not your doll, Coleton," I said, standing my ground. "I resigned."

"You are still on pack territory," he countered. "Which means you obey the Alpha. Charly is showcasing her paintings. She wants the pack leadership there. You will come to carry her supplies."

I wanted to refuse, but the Command in his voice made my wolf dip her head in submission. I hated it. I hated how my biology betrayed me.

The gallery was a modern glass building in the city center. It was packed with humans and wolves alike. Charly was the center of attention, holding a glass of wine and laughing loudly.

"And this is my assistant," Charly said, waving a hand at me as I struggled with a box of brochures. "She's a bit slow, but she tries."

A few people chuckled. I kept my head down, focusing on the exit sign.

Suddenly, a piercing shriek cut through the air.

WEE-WOO-WEE-WOO!

The fire alarm.

Smoke began to billow from the vents. Real, thick, black smoke. Panic erupted instantly. The crowd surged toward the doors, screaming and shoving.

"Move! Move!"

I was shoved hard from behind. I fell, my ankle twisting with a sickening crunch. I hit the floor, and a heavy sculpture stand toppled over, pinning my leg.

"Help!" I cried out, coughing as the acrid smoke filled my lungs.

Through the haze, I saw him.

Coleton was standing ten feet away. He had seen me fall. Our eyes locked.

For a moment, time stopped.

My wolf howled to his. Mate! Save Mate!

I saw Coleton take a step toward me. His instinct was driving him. He reached out a hand.

"Coleton!" Charly screamed from the other side. "I can't breathe! The smoke!"

Charly was standing near the exit, completely uninjured, just holding a handkerchief to her nose.

Coleton froze. He looked at me, trapped under the heavy stand, unable to move. Then he looked at Charly.

The conflict on his face lasted only a second.

He turned his back on me.

He ran to Charly, scooped her up in his arms bridal-style, and charged out the door.

"No..." I whispered.

The smoke swallowed me. I coughed until my throat bled. The heat was rising. I curled into a ball, waiting for the end. So this is it, I thought. Rejected and left to burn.

I didn't die.

I woke up in the pack hospital again. My throat felt like sandpaper.

"Easy," a voice said.

It was Beta Jaydan. He was sitting by my bed, looking grim.

"Who...?" I rasped.

"The firefighters found you," Jaydan said quietly. "They brought you out."

"Where is he?" I asked, though I knew the answer.

"He is at the mansion," Jaydan said, looking at the floor. "He is helping Charly wash the soot out of her hair."

I laughed. It was a dry, cracking sound. "Of course he is."

Jaydan looked up, his eyes full of sorrow. "Arminda, I am a Beta. I follow orders. But what he is doing... it is against the will of the Moon Goddess. You are his Mate. We all smell it, even if he pretends he doesn't."

I looked out the window. The full moon was rising again. It was beautiful and cruel.

"He left me to die, Jaydan," I said softly. "He chose a lie over the truth."

"He is blind," Jaydan said.

"No," I said, sitting up. The pain in my ankle flared, but I ignored it. "He isn't blind. He is unworthy."

I closed my eyes and reached deep inside myself. I found the golden thread that connected my soul to Coleton's-the Mate Bond. It was frayed, blackened by his rejection and cruelty.

"I'm going to do it," I whispered.

"Do what?" Jaydan asked, alarmed.

"I'm going to sever the link."

The door banged open.

Coleton strode in. He smelled of expensive shampoo and Charly's perfume. He looked annoyed, not relieved that I was alive.

"You're awake," he said. "Good. Charly is distressed about the fire. She needs a sedative."

I looked at him, and for the first time in six months, I felt nothing. No love. No longing. Just cold, hard clarity.