After I Rejected My Mate, The Lycan Prince Claimed Me

The pack house blazed with light. Every window glowed gold, and the ceremonial hall on the first floor overflowed with wolves dressed in their finest. Three hundred pack members filled the space, their voices rising in anticipation. Tonight was supposed to be the night everything changed. The Mate Ceremony. The night Dane would mark me, seal our fated bond, and finally make visible the eight years I had poured into Black Moon.

I stood in the bridal suite on the second floor, alone. The dress they had chosen for me was simple—white, fitted, traditional. I wore my mother's heirloom necklace, the only thing I had left of her. A silver chain with a small crescent moon pendant. I touched it now, pressing my thumb against the cool metal, steadying myself.

Dane was supposed to meet me here ten minutes ago. We were supposed to walk down together.

I waited.

The voices below grew louder. Laughter. Music. Someone called out a toast. I heard his name—Dane Parker, Alpha of the Black Moon Pack—and the crowd roared approval.

But he wasn't here.

I closed my eyes and reached for our bond. It was there, faint and threadlike, the connection we had never fully opened. I followed it, feeling for him. His scent came to me first: pine and iron, sharp and familiar. But it wasn't coming from downstairs. It was pulling me up.

Toward the third floor. Toward the Alpha suite.

My stomach tightened. I told myself there was an explanation. Maybe he was changing. Maybe he needed something. Maybe—

I climbed the stairs. The noise from the ceremony hall faded behind me. The third floor was quiet, private. Only the Alpha and his closest family had rooms here. The bond pulled me forward, stronger now, and with it came his scent, thick and undeniable.

I stopped in front of the Alpha suite door.

It was cracked open.

I pushed it wider.

The room was dim, lit only by the glow of a single lamp. The bed was in the center, large and unmade. And on it—

Dane. And Etta.

His adoptive sister.

They were tangled together, skin on skin, her dark hair spilling across his chest. For a moment I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. My brain tried to make sense of it, tried to find some other explanation, but there wasn't one.

Etta saw me first.

She didn't flinch. Didn't cover herself. She turned her head slowly, met my eyes, and smiled. It was a small smile, lazy and victorious.

"His wolf never truly wanted you, Remi," she said softly. Her voice was almost kind. "You must have known."

Dane's head snapped up. His eyes went wide. "Remi—"

I didn't let him finish.

I had spent eight years waiting. Eight years sacrificing. Eight years believing the Moon Goddess had given me a mate who would choose me. And in that moment, standing in the doorway with my mother's necklace cold against my throat, I understood: he had already made his choice. He had made it long before tonight.

I would not be the one who was rejected.

I would not give him that power.

I spoke clearly. My voice didn't shake.

"I, Remi Hoffman, reject you, Dane Parker, Alpha of the Black Moon Pack, as my fated mate."

The bond snapped.

Pain tore through me—white-hot, soul-deep, like something vital had been ripped out of my chest. I collapsed to my knees, gasping. My wolf howled inside me, a sound of pure agony. Across the room, Dane fell against the bedframe, clutching his ribs, his face twisted in shock and pain.

The shockwave rippled outward.

Through the pack bond. Through every wolf connected to Black Moon. I felt it spread—confusion, panic, the sharp collective gasp of three hundred wolves suddenly feeling something break.

Downstairs, the ceremony hall erupted into chaos. Voices shouted. Someone screamed. I heard bodies hitting the floor.

I forced myself to stand.

Dane was staring at me, his mouth open, his eyes wild. Etta sat up slowly, her smile gone, replaced by something colder.

I turned and walked out.

I didn't run. I walked through the hallway, down the stairs, through the panicked crowd in the ceremony hall. Wolves clutched their chests, staring at me as I passed. Some tried to speak. I didn't stop.

I walked out the front door, across the grounds, past the training fields, and toward the eastern border.

The sky was beginning to lighten. Dawn was coming.

I crossed the border marker at first light.

My body ached. The phantom pain of the severed bond pulsed through me with every step. I had no pack now. No rank. No plan beyond putting distance between myself and the wreckage I had left behind.

I stepped onto Silverfang soil and stopped.

The forest was quiet. Too quiet.

Then I heard it: the low, rumbling growl of a wolf.

I turned.

A massive dark-coated wolf stood twenty feet away, flanked by two others. His eyes were luminous amber, fixed on me with an intensity that made my breath catch. He took one step forward, then stopped. His head tilted slightly, nostrils flaring.

And then he shifted.

The man who stood before me was tall, broad-shouldered, with grey eyes that had gone amber at the edges. He stared at me like I was something he had been searching for without knowing it.

"You're on Silverfang territory," he said quietly. His voice was low, controlled. "Who are you?"

I straightened. My legs shook, but I didn't let it show.

"Remi Hoffman," I said. "I'm—" I stopped. What was I? Not an Omega anymore. Not a mate. "I'm no one."

His eyes narrowed slightly. He took another step closer, and I caught his scent: cedarwood and night air, clean and sharp.

"You're hurt," he said.

I pressed my thumb against my wrist. "I'm fine."

"You just severed a mate bond." It wasn't a question.

I met his eyes. "Yes."

He was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded once.

"Griffin Stone," he said. "Lycan Prince of Silverfang. You're safe here."

I didn't know why I believed him. But I did.