The sun bleeds gold over the treeline of Ironpeak Pack’s main territory, painting the asphalt of the highway leading into town amber as I step out of the pickup truck my true mate sent for me. Six years. Six years I’ve lived in the quiet border outpost, far from the politics and schemes of this place I once called home.
I was thirteen when it happened. For as long as I can remember, the packs had arranged for me to be Cayson Tucker’s future chosen mate. But then he met Felicity Butler. And for her, he convinced his parents to send me away to that remote outpost, telling everyone I was too wild, too unruly to be a proper future Luna. I didn’t fight it back then—I had no one to fight for me, not yet.
Now I’m nineteen, and he’s here, standing on the side of the road in a tailored suit, his hand curled possessively around the waist of the golden-haired woman at his side. His well-built frame still carries the bearing of an Alpha heir, but the aura rolling off him can’t compare to the warm, heavy protection I’ve grown used to from my true mate. His dark brow is furrowed like he’s doing me a favor by even coming here, like I’ve spent every single one of these six years pining away waiting for him to remember me.
“Six years is long enough to learn your lesson, isn’t it, Madison?” he says, his voice dropping into that sharp, commanding alpha tone I used to fear, thick with the irritation of someone used to getting everything he wants. He thinks I’ve been broken down out there, that I’ll crawl back to him grateful for crumbs. His retinue of Delta guards stand behind him, their faces blank, waiting for me to throw myself at his feet like any other omega would for a chance at the Alpha heir’s mate. “What happened years ago wasn’t entirely my fault. You were stubborn, you pushed too hard. If I hadn’t sent you away to get your head straight, I could never take you as my mate.”
The guards shift, and I can smell their curiosity, their anticipation of the scene they think is about to play out. They’re waiting for tears, for begging, for me to cling to Cayson and beg Felicity not to take what’s mine.
I just smile, faint and calm, the weight of the mating mark on my neck warm beneath the collar of my shirt. “I never wanted to be your mate. And…” I pause, lifting my chin, letting the faint scent of my true mate’s pine and smoke cling to my skin, the permanent mark of our bond for any werewolf with a nose to pick up. “I, Madison Moore, reject you, Cayson Tucker, Alpha heir of the Ironpeak Pack, as my mate. And I’ve already marked and mated my true mate.”
