Rejecting the Fated Mate Bond

On our seventh anniversary as mates, I found a plane ticket tucked away in Jack’s drawer. As Alpha of the Moon Shadow Pack, he often traveled for pack affairs, but this time, I allowed myself to hope it was a surprise for me. The destination was Iceland—a place we had planned to visit for our honeymoon, but his responsibilities as Alpha had always gotten in the way. When he came home that evening, though, he barely looked at me. “I’ll be away for a few days,” he said curtly. “Pack business.”

I didn’t cry. I didn’t message him demanding explanations. After years of chasing after him, I was exhausted.

---

When Jack returned, I had just finished setting the table with a feast of spicy roasted venison. I used to love spicy food, but Jack couldn’t handle the heat. After we became mates, I stopped cooking anything spicy. But now, I couldn’t bring myself to compromise anymore.

Jack placed a necklace on the table—a pink diamond pendant that had sat in my online shopping cart for ages, one I couldn’t bring myself to buy. “For our anniversary,” he murmured, pressing his lips together. “I got too busy the other day and forgot.”

“It’s fine,” I replied, picking up a forkful of venison without looking up.

He hesitated, trying to justify himself, but fell silent. He looked at me, bracing for the tears and questions that used to follow his lapses. I, too, once thought I couldn’t stay composed facing Jack’s betrayal.

On our anniversary, seeing the plane tickets in the drawer had made my heart race with anticipation. I spent the day preparing a lavish dinner and even lit candles, waiting for Jack to come home. But when he rushed in, he didn’t spare me a glance as he headed straight to the bedroom. Emerging moments later, he said, “Something came up with the pack; I need to leave for a few days,” and left.

He took the plane tickets with him. He hadn’t planned a trip to see the Northern Lights with me after all. He had forgotten it was our seventh anniversary.

I stared at the carefully prepared feast, but couldn’t eat. I leaned against the sofa, watching the snow outside, my eyes stinging.

Hours later, I still couldn’t sleep. I opened my phone and saw a post from Nala Ellis, a Delta warrior in our pack. The location was Iceland.

“Bucket List at Eighteen—See the Northern Lights in Iceland with the love of my life. Finally made it today!”

The photo showed Jack and Nala kissing under the aurora. My phone slipped from my hand. So, Jack had gone to Iceland with Nala. I should have seen this coming.

I sat numbly in the cold living room, sleepless through the night.

“Why’s everything so spicy?” Jack asked, frowning at the spread on the table as he sat down.

“I didn’t think you’d be back,” I said, setting my utensils aside and heading to the bedroom.

He caught my wrist, his eyes searching mine with a complex look. After a moment, he finally said, “Luna, are you just going to leave like this?”

I turned back, puzzled. “What else is there to do?”

Should I, like before, prepare a late-night drink for him as he returns from pack duties and place it in front of him? No. I was done pretending. I pulled my wrist free and walked away, leaving him sitting at the table, the spicy aroma of the venison lingering in the air.

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