REJECTED BY MY MATE, FATED TO HIS RIVAL.

chapter 3

CHAPTER 3: Stranger.

Blossom.

*Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.*

The steady, mechanical sound pulled me out of the darkness, slow and disorienting, like I was being dragged back into a world I wasn’t ready to face. My eyelids felt unbearably heavy, but I forced them open, squinting as a harsh white light flooded my vision.

For a moment, everything was blurry, shapes, shadows, brightness.Then gradually, it began to settle.

The sterile scent hit me next, clean, sharp, unmistakable.

I was in the hospital.

The realization sank in slowly, and a faint breath escaped my lips. Somehow… they had brought me here. A small, fragile sense of relief flickered within me. If they hadn’t… if I had been left there…I wasn’t sure I would have survived those blows.

My body ached as I lay there, every inch of me heavy and sore, as though I had been shattered and carelessly pieced back together. Even the simple act of breathing felt like effort. Still, I tried to relax against the bed, letting the stiffness in my limbs ease just a little.

But peace didn’t last.

It never did.

This is what you get for doing that to me two years ago.

Millien’s voice echoed in my head, low and cold, sending a chill down my spine despite the warmth of the room. My fingers curled slightly against the sheets as confusion and unease twisted inside me.

Two years ago.

What exactly happened two years ago?

The question circled my mind endlessly, refusing to settle. Because no matter how hard I tried to think back, nothing came to me, nothing that could explain the hatred in his eyes, the cruelty in his actions.

It was two years ago that everything changed.

Back then, even though I was of Beta breed, I had suddenly been assigned to serve as Millien’s personal maid. It had come without warning, without explanation, just an order that couldn’t be refused and trust me when I say it hadn’t been easy, not even for a single day.

That same year… that same moment in time… I had found out he was my mate.

I remembered it so clearly.

The way my heart had raced, the way hope had bloomed, fragile and uncertain, the way I had looked at him, waiting… expecting something.

But all I got in return…was disgust. His gaze had been cold, distant, as though the bond between us meant nothing. As though I meant nothing.

“I’m getting engaged to Vanessa.”

Those words had come without hesitation, sharp and final. No room for questions. No room for hope.

Just an end… before anything had even begun.

I inhaled slowly, the memory pressing heavily against my chest as I forced myself back to the present. My eyes drifted around the room, taking in the pale walls, the quiet hum of machines, the stillness that surrounded me.

And that was when I noticed it.

I wasn’t alone.

Across the room, there was another patient, lying just as still, their presence almost blending into the silence. But it wasn’t them that held my attention.

It was the man beside them.

He stood there, unmoving, his eyes fixed directly on me.

A strange tension filled the air the moment I met his gaze. Something about the way he looked at me made my chest tighten, my instincts urging me to look away.

So I tried.

I shifted my gaze, turning my head slightly, pretending not to notice but it was already too late.

Because the moment had passed and before I could avoid it any further…he moved.

“Too pitiful.” His voice was calm, almost casual, as he shook his head slightly, like he had just witnessed something disappointing…but expected.

There was no mockery in his tone, yet it didn’t carry sympathy either. It was something else entirely… something that made my chest tighten without reason.

“Tell me,” he continued, raising a brow as his gaze lingered on me, steady and unreadable, “do you want a way out?”

For a moment, I couldn’t even process what he had said.

A way out?

The words echoed in my mind, foreign and unsettling. I stared at him, completely dumbfounded. Why would a stranger, someone I had never seen before, walk up to me and ask such a question? It didn’t make sense.

My lips parted slightly, but no words came out and before I could gather myself, before I could even think of a response, he moved again.

His hand lifted, reaching toward me without hesitation, and before I could pull away, his fingers brushed against my hair. He tucked a loose strand behind my ear with an ease that felt far too familiar, far too intimate for someone I didn’t know.

My body went rigid instantly.

“Blossom Ashford,” he said, his voice lowering just a fraction, as though testing the weight of my name. “I just asked a question.”

My breath caught.

A sharp chill ran down my spine as my heart skipped a beat.

He knew my name.

The realization hit me all at once, sending a wave of unease crashing through me. My fingers tightened slightly against the bedsheet, my instincts screaming at me to create distance, to push him away, to protect myself.

“Stay away from me,” I said quickly, my voice rising despite the weakness that still lingered in it. There was a tremor beneath the words, but I forced them out anyway. “I don’t need your help.”

For a brief second, silence stretched between us.

“Easy,” he chuckled softly, as though my reaction amused him more than it offended him.

The sound unsettled me even more.

Without another word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. My eyes followed the movement instinctively, wary, uncertain. Before I could refuse,before I could even lift my hand to stop him, he gently took my hand and placed the card into it.

His touch was brief.

“When you change your mind,” he said smoothly, his voice carrying a quiet certainty that made my stomach twist, “you can reach out.”

Then, just like that, he stepped back, creating distance between us again. His gaze lingered on me for a second longer, unreadable as ever, before shifting toward the other patient in the room.

For a moment, his expression changed, subtly, almost imperceptibly, then he turned and walked away.

The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving the room in silence once more.

I sat there, unmoving, staring down at the card now resting in my hand. Curiosity crept in despite myself, quiet but persistent. My fingers shifted slightly as I turned it over, about to read whatever was written on it…but before I could…

The door opened again and my entire body tensed.

“Blossom, dear.” Vanessa’s voice rang out, sweet yet dangerous.

The color drained from my face instantly as my grip on the card tightened.

What does she want this time?