The Unwanted Mate

Chapter 3.3

The fire crackled before them, casting flickering shadows on the faces of the gathered leaders. The weight of their discussions hung in the air, thick with both urgency and an undercurrent of unspoken tension. Ashyra could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears, each thump a reminder of the one thing she could not escape: Stephan.

She hadn’t planned on this, hadn’t asked for it. The bond—this thing between them—it wasn’t supposed to matter. She’d never believed in it, never wanted it. And yet, it was here, tethering her to the one man who had chosen to turn away from her.

A bitter knot tightened in her stomach as she stole another glance at him.

Stephan stood on the other side of the gathering, his face expressionless, his eyes dark and distant. The coldness that had once been a mere shadow of his leadership was now more palpable than ever. She could feel it, even from this distance—the invisible barrier he had erected between them, his deliberate avoidance.

And yet, the bond between them screamed in stark contrast. She could feel the heat of him, like a flame just out of reach, a warmth that promised comfort, connection, and a deep, unshakable tie.

Her wolf stirred restlessly within her, growling low with frustration, urging her to give in, to accept. But she couldn’t. Not after what he had done.

Ashyra’s breath caught as she watched Stephan’s gaze flicker in her direction, almost imperceptible—just a subtle shift of his sharp eyes. A small tightening in her chest followed. It was the same reaction every time. It didn’t matter how much she tried to block it, to force herself to ignore the bond, the pull.

It wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, too. Every glance, every fleeting moment of contact with him, felt like a storm that raged inside her, threatening to tear her apart.

You need to focus, she told herself, her lips pressed tight as she forced her attention back to the leaders around the fire. The discussion about the rogue threat continued, but Ashyra wasn’t really hearing it. Every word, every strategy was lost on her as the weight of Stephan’s presence consumed her thoughts.

“You’re being distant,” Luca said softly beside her, his tone catching her off guard.

She glanced at him, surprised by the softness in his voice. It was rare for him to address her emotions directly, but then again, Luca was always perceptive.

“Maybe I just don’t want to deal with it,” she said, her words sharp. She couldn’t help it—her anger bubbled up, frustration clawing at her. It wasn’t fair. None of this was.

“You mean him,” Luca said with a knowing look. His gaze flicked briefly to Stephan before returning to Ashyra.

Ashyra swallowed, her fingers tightening around the leather strap of her jacket. “I didn’t ask for this bond, Luca. I didn’t ask for any of it.” Her voice was tight with the raw, unfiltered emotion that had been building since the moment Stephan had rejected her.

Luca studied her for a moment, his gaze softening. “I know you didn’t. But it’s there, Ashyra. You can’t ignore it.” He paused, his expression turning more serious. “You can’t keep pretending it doesn’t matter.”

“Why does it matter?” Her voice came out as a harsh whisper, filled with disbelief. “He rejected me. He’s never going to accept me, and I’m not going to beg for his approval.”

Luca’s lips pressed together, his eyes dark with sympathy. “I don’t think it’s about approval. It’s about something deeper than either of you understand right now.” He gave her a long look before turning his gaze back to the fire, his eyes unfocused. “This bond… it doesn’t just go away because you want it to. It’s part of you now.”

Ashyra opened her mouth to protest, to argue that Luca didn’t understand, but something in his expression stopped her. He wasn’t saying it to make her feel guilty. He wasn’t trying to get her to forgive Stephan. He was speaking the truth.

A deep sigh escaped her, and she dropped her head, staring at the fire in front of her. “I don’t want it,” she whispered. “I don’t want to need him. I don’t want to feel this—” Her hand fluttered helplessly in the air, gesturing toward the thundering pull deep inside her chest. “This weakness.”

Luca’s voice softened further, though his words carried an undeniable weight. “It’s not weakness. It’s strength. You’re stronger for feeling it, even if it feels like it’s tearing you apart. You can’t run from what you are, Ashyra. You can’t fight what fate chose for you.”

Ashyra was quiet for a long moment, her thoughts a jumble of confusion and conflicting emotions. Luca’s words rang in her ears, but the bitterness that lingered from Stephan’s rejection still clung to her, bitter as bile.

She wanted to believe him. She did. But how could she ever accept this bond? How could she accept him?

A low growl vibrated through her chest, and Ashyra’s eyes snapped up to meet Stephan’s once more. He was standing just a few feet away, his posture rigid, but his eyes locked on her with a kind of intensity that made her pulse race.

Her breath caught in her throat. The bond was more than just a tug now; it was a violent, overwhelming force that threatened to sweep her away. Every fiber of her being wanted to walk over to him, to claim what was hers.

But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

Ashyra swallowed hard, her fists clenched at her sides.

Luca’s gaze followed hers, and he gave a small, knowing nod. “You’re not alone in this,” he murmured, his words a silent promise that filled the air between them.

Ashyra couldn’t bring herself to respond. She only nodded stiffly, her attention still caught in the tug-of-war between what her heart wanted and what her mind demanded.

As the fire crackled, the voices around them began to rise in volume, more packs joining the conversation. But the bond between Ashyra and Stephan remained unspoken, heavy and undeniable in the space between them.