Forged in the Beta's Claim

Chapter 2

I don't sleep.

Every time I close my eyes, I see Gavin's face—that moment of recognition followed immediately by regret. The way he looked at Sierra like she was his whole world while I stood there, his actual mate, invisible.

My wolf is silent, retreated so far into my consciousness I can barely feel her. The absence is terrifying. We're supposed to be one being, two halves of the same soul.

The sun rises, painting my bedroom in shades of gold and pink that feel obscene. How dare the world be beautiful when everything inside me is broken?

There's a knock on my door. "Ivory?" Talia's voice is soft, careful. "Can I come in?"

"No."

She comes in anyway, carrying a tray with tea and toast. She sets it on my nightstand and sits on the edge of my bed, her dark eyes full of concern.

"You need to eat something."

"I need to cease existing," I counter, my voice rough from crying. "But sure, toast works too."

She doesn't laugh. That's how I know it's bad—Talia always laughs at my jokes, even the terrible ones.

"The whole pack is talking about it," she says quietly.

"Of course they are." I sit up, and my body protests. The rejection pain has settled into a dull, constant ache. "It's not every day someone gets rejected on their birthday in front of half the pack."

"It wasn't in front of half the pack. It was in a private room."

"Everyone came in after. And werewolf hearing." I grab the tea because my throat is dry. "Trust me, everyone knows."

"You're not pathetic."

"Tell that to Gavin, who looked at me like I was an inconvenience. A problem to be dealt with and dismissed."

Talia is quiet for a moment. Then: "He's an idiot."

"He's in love. Just not with me." The words taste bitter. "The Moon Goddess paired us for a reason, but apparently she didn't account for traumatized blonde warriors with perfect bone structure and a tragic backstory."

"Sierra lost her mate," Talia says carefully. "And her parents. Her whole pack—"

"Don't." I cut her off. "Don't you dare defend this. I know what Sierra went through. I know it was horrible. But that doesn't give her the right to my mate. And it doesn't give Gavin the right to reject me because his girlfriend is more broken than I am."

Talia winces. "That's not what I meant."

"Isn't it?" I throw off my covers and stand. "Everyone loves Sierra. She's beautiful and tragic and strong. And me? I'm just Ivory. Loud, funny Ivory who doesn't take life seriously enough. Of course Gavin chose her."

"Because you're his mate," Talia says firmly. "Because the bond is sacred. Because you're worth choosing."

I want to believe her. But all I feel is the hollow ache where my mate bond used to be.

"I need to get out of here," I say suddenly. "I can't stay in this pack, Talia. I can't watch them together. Can't handle the pitying looks and the whispers."

Talia's eyes widen. "You want to leave? Ivory, this is your home."

"This is a prison." I grab clothes from my closet. "I need to go somewhere else. Somewhere I can be someone other than the girl who got rejected."

"Where would you even go?"

Good question. I pause, actually thinking about it. Where does a rejected wolf go?

"I'll figure it out," I say. "Maybe I'll go rogue for a while. Travel. Find myself or whatever people do when their lives implode."

"You can't go rogue," Talia protests. "It's dangerous. You're an Omega, Ivory. You need pack protection."

"I'm also eighteen and legally an adult." I shove the shirt into a bag. "I can make my own choices. Even bad ones."

Talia watches me pack, then sighs. "You're really doing this."

"I'm really doing this."

"Then at least talk to Alpha Ilas first. Get his permission. Leave properly, not like some rogue running away in the night."

She has a point. Leaving without the Alpha's blessing would be disrespectful. And despite everything, I love this pack. I just can't stay in it.

"Fine," I agree. "I'll talk to Alpha Ilas. But I'm still leaving."

Alpha Ilas's office is exactly what you'd expect from a werewolf pack leader—large, masculine, with dark wood furniture and the faint scent of pine and authority. He's sitting behind his desk when I knock, and he looks up with an expression that's equal parts concern and resignation.

"Ivory," he says, gesturing to the chair across from him. "I was wondering when you'd come see me."

I sit, trying to project confidence I don't feel. "I want to leave the pack."

He doesn't look surprised. "Because of Gavin."

"Because of everything." I meet his eyes, refusing to look away. "I can't stay here, Alpha. Not after... not with everyone knowing. I need a fresh start."

Alpha Ilas leans back in his chair, studying me. He's in his forties, with silver threading through his dark hair and the kind of presence that makes you want to either submit or run. I do neither.

"You're eighteen years old," he says finally. "Barely an adult. And you want to leave the only pack you've ever known because of a broken heart."

"It's not just a broken heart." My voice is steady, controlled. "It's a rejected mate bond. It's public humiliation. It's knowing that every time I see Gavin and Sierra together, I'll feel that bond that should have been mine. I can't live like that, Alpha. I won't."

He's quiet for a long moment. Then: "Where will you go?"

"I don't know yet." It's the truth. "Somewhere I can start over. Be someone new."

"You can't run from yourself, Ivory."

"Maybe not." I shrug. "But I can run from here."

Alpha Ilas sighs, and suddenly he looks tired. "I heard what happened. The whole pack heard. Gavin was foolish, and Sierra..." He trails off, shaking his head. "The situation is complicated."

"It's really not," I say flatly. "He chose her over his mate. End of story."

"The heart wants what it wants," Alpha Ilas says, and I want to scream. "Sometimes that doesn't align with fate."

"Then fate is cruel."

"Sometimes." He pulls out a piece of paper and starts writing. "If you're determined to leave, I won't stop you. You're an adult, and you have the right to choose your own path. But I'm not going to let you wander aimlessly, either."

He finishes writing and slides the paper across the desk. I pick it up, scanning the contents. It's a letter of introduction.

"Ironclad Pack," Alpha Ilas says. "They're a warrior training pack about three hundred miles north. Alpha Kael runs a tight ship, but he's fair. He takes in wolves who need a fresh start, who want to become stronger. If you're going to leave, at least go somewhere that will help you grow."

Ironclad Pack. I've heard of them—everyone has. They're legendary in the region, known for producing elite warriors that other packs actually hire for protection details and specialized training. They practice something called the Iron Discipline—a brutal combination of ancient combat techniques and modern tactical warfare that's been passed down through generations. Wolves who train there are marked by it, carrying themselves with a particular kind of lethal grace that's unmistakable.

And Alpha Kael... the stories about him are whispered more than spoken. Powerful enough that even other Alphas treat him with wary respect. Selective to the point of being exclusive—he turns away more wolves than he accepts, and no one knows exactly what criteria he uses. Some say he can sense a wolf's true potential just by looking at them. Others claim he only takes those with something to prove, wolves who've been broken and need to be reforged.

It sounds perfect.

"Thank you," I say, and I mean it. "For understanding. For not trying to make me stay."

"I'm not happy about it," Alpha Ilas admits. "You're a good member of this pack, Ivory. Strong, loyal, with a spirit that makes people smile. We'll miss you."

"But not enough to fix what's broken."

He doesn't have an answer for that.

I stand, tucking the letter into my pocket. "I'll leave tomorrow. Give me time to say goodbye."

"Take care of yourself," Alpha Ilas says. "And Ivory? Don't let this break you. You're stronger than you think."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and leave his office.

I spend the rest of the day packing and avoiding people. Talia helps, her presence a comfort even when we don't talk. She doesn't try to change my mind, doesn't tell me I'm making a mistake. She just folds clothes and packs books and occasionally squeezes my hand when the silence gets too heavy.

By evening, my room is full of boxes and my life is reduced to what I can fit in a car. It's depressing how little that is.

"I'm going to miss you," Talia says as we tape up the last box. "Who's going to make inappropriate jokes at pack meetings?"

"Zack will step up," I say, trying to smile. "He's been training under me for years."

"It won't be the same."

"No," I agree. "It won't."

She hugs me then, fierce and tight, and I let myself hold on. Let myself feel the grief of leaving my best friend, my home, everything familiar.

"Promise you'll call," she demands. "And visit. And not forget about me when you're off being a badass warrior."

"I promise," I say, and I mean it.

We're loading the last box into my car when I see them.

Gavin and Sierra, walking through the pack grounds hand in hand. They're laughing about something, and the sight of them—so happy, so perfect together—makes my stomach turn.

Gavin sees me and stops. Sierra follows his gaze, and her expression shifts to something complicated. Guilt? Pity? I don't know and don't care.

He walks over, leaving Sierra standing awkwardly by the path. Up close, I can see the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his jaw. The rejection hurt him too—physically, at least. But he has Sierra to comfort him, to help him heal.

I have boxes and a three-hundred-mile drive ahead of me.

"You're leaving," he says. It's not a question.

"Observant," I reply, my voice cold. "Must be all that medical training."

He flinches. "Ivory, I—"

"Don't." I hold up a hand. "Don't apologize again. Don't tell me you're sorry. Don't try to make yourself feel better about what you did. Just... don't."

"I never wanted to hurt you."

"And yet." I gesture at myself, at the car full of my belongings, at the situation he created. "Here we are."

"Where are you going?"

"Does it matter?" I slam the trunk closed, harder than necessary. "You made your choice, Gavin. You don't get to care about mine."

"I do care." He steps closer, and I smell that scent—pine and cedar and everything I can't have. "You're still pack. Still someone I—"

"Someone you what?" I interrupt. "Someone you rejected? Someone you threw away for your girlfriend? Save it, Gavin. I don't need your concern or your guilt. I need you to leave me alone."

Sierra has joined us now, her hand finding Gavin's arm. The gesture is possessive, protective. She looks at me with those big blue eyes, and I see the pity there.

"I'm sorry," she says softly. "I know this is hard. I know what it's like to lose a mate."

The audacity. The sheer, breathtaking audacity.

"You lost your mate to death," I say, my voice dangerously quiet. "I lost mine to you. It's not the same thing, Sierra. Not even close."

She has the grace to look ashamed. Gavin's jaw tightens.

"That's not fair," he says. "Sierra didn't—"

"Didn't what? Didn't know you were my mate when she kept dating you? Didn't care that she was standing between fated mates? Or didn't think I mattered enough to step aside?" I laugh, and it sounds slightly unhinged. "You're right, Gavin. She didn't do anything wrong. She just took what wasn't hers and called it love."

"Ivory—" Sierra starts, but I'm done.

"I'm leaving," I announce. "Tomorrow morning. I'm going to another pack. I'm going to become someone strong enough that rejection doesn't break me. Someone who doesn't need a mate to be complete." I look at Gavin, letting him see the hurt and anger in my eyes. "I'm going to forget you exist."

It's a lie. We both know it's a lie. But it feels good to say it.

I get in my car without another word, leaving them standing in the driveway. Talia climbs in the passenger seat—she's riding with me to the pack border, one last night before I say goodbye—and we drive away.

In the rearview mirror, I see Gavin watching me go. He looks pained, conflicted, like he's not sure if he made the right choice.

But he doesn't stop me.

He never even tries.