The Exiled Luna's Return

Two

Kaelen’s POV

I shouldn’t be here.

I know that as I push through the narrow hallway leading backstage. Something pulls me forward, heavier than reason, stronger than my own will.

Her scent, and that strange pull in my chest.

The mate bond.

I find her in the dim light, seated on a worn bench. She looks smaller here than on stage, shoulders slightly hunched, hair falling loose.

But even in the quiet, she radiates a steadiness that twists something deep inside me.

“Miss,” I say tentatively. She doesn’t look startled. Just lifts her gaze, as if she already knew I was coming. “You feel it too, don’t you? The bond.”

For a second, I expect her to jump out at me in recognition, but she just studies me silently.

The silence stretches until I clear my throat. “Tell me I am not imagining things, miss. Tell me that you feel it too.”

Still nothing. Not a word.

“Did you hear me?” I ask, sharper than I mean to.

She gives the faintest nod, then lifts her hand, tapping her throat gently. That’s when it clicks.

She’s mute.

For some reason, that discovery hits me harder than it should. I expected protest, questions, and even anger. Instead, she only sits there, her eyes steady on mine.

“I... I didn’t realize. I’m sorry,” I say, wondering why I am feeling the mate bond to a mute shewolf. “Maybe this is a mistake. You are not my mate. I already have one.”

She tilts her head slightly, and then looks down at the sheet music she’s arranging on the bench beside her. The bond pulses in my chest.

Frustration builds in me the longer she stays quiet. I came here to put this matter to rest, yet it feels like I’m talking to a wall.

“This is pointless,” I mutter under my breath. “Whatever pull I feel, it has to be some glitch in the bond. Perhaps Fate makes mistakes too.”

Her eyes lift to mine then, and that calmness only stokes my irritation. She’s not fighting. She’s not even reacting. I am the Alpha heir of the strongest clan in the country, and she is not even reacting to my declaration of us being possible mates.

I exhale sharply. “Before I leave, at least tell me your name.”

She hesitates, then raises her hands and makes quick, deliberate gestures. My brows knit. “I don’t... understand sign language,” I admit.

With a small sigh, she pulls out her phone, taps quickly, and holds up the screen.

Serenya Lockwood.

The name hangs in the air. Something about it roots itself in me, sharp as a blade.

Serenya Lockwood. It feels carved into my chest already, though I can’t explain why.

But there’s no time to linger. Celestine could be looking for me right now, and I can’t let her suspect a thing. I straighten, forcing my voice firm. I stare at the mute woman in front of me and decide that I should get this matter over with. This confusion in the mate bond ends now. I already have my Celestine. There is no way in hell a mute woman will ruin my future.

“Then hear this, Serenya Lockwood. I, Kaelen Dravenheart, reject you as my mate. Forever.”

The words cut the air between us. The bond inside me snaps taut, then tears, burning as it severs. A raw ache floods my chest, bitter and sharp. My wolf recoils, pacing inside me with a low growl of unease.

I brace myself for her reaction. For tears, gasps, some sign of shared pain.

But Serenya only blinks once. Then she turns back to the papers on the bench, calmly smoothing out a page of sheet music as if I hadn’t just shattered the bond between us.

The indifference is unbearable.

Why am I the one doubled over inside, while she sits unbothered? Why do I feel the ache when she doesn’t even flinch?

My chest still throbs where the bond used to be, but she’s already gone back to her world, leaving me invisible in it.

I should leave, I tell myself. But the imbalance gnaws at me, feeding doubt into every corner of my thoughts.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to work.

“Why aren’t you affected at all?” I ask. “I have rejected you!” My wolf snarls inside me, clawing for some reaction.

But before I can take a step closer, someone else enters the room.

“Enough!”

A man strides in, tall, broad-shouldered. He moves straight to Serenya’s side, positioning himself there as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. His eyes lock on me, hard as steel.

“Leave her,” he says flatly. “She doesn’t need you.”

My lip curls. “And who the hell are you supposed to be?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “I am Darian Hale, Serenya’s best friend. And the one who makes sure she isn’t bothered by wolves like you.” His tone drops lower, sharper. “You better leave, buddy. Clearly, she’s not interested in you.”

I study him, the tension rising sharply and fast. A rival wolf. His scent tells me enough—Beta, not Alpha, but dangerous in his own right. And the way Serenya doesn’t flinch, doesn’t protest his closeness, tells me something else: she trusts him.

My jaw tightens. “This is between her and me.”

“No,” he snaps. “It isn’t. Don’t you think Serenya hasn’t had her fair share of creeps going up to her after a performance? She doesn’t care about you. So walk away.”

I glance at Serenya. She sits silently, still smoothing the same piece of sheet music.

The protective way this man hovers over her twists something sharp in my chest. My wolf bristles, but I force myself still.

“Fine,” I say at last. “I’ve already made my choice anyway.”

I turn away before I can betray the truth in my eyes. The rejection is supposed to free me, to sever the bond cleanly. Instead, it festers like an open wound, burning deeper with every step I take.

Outwardly, I keep my composure as I leave the backstage hall. But inside, doubt rips through me.

Why did it hurt me more than her?

Why does the bond feel broken for me, but not for her?

And why, even after rejecting her, can I still feel her presence like a shadow pressed against my skin?

I have to know, I think as I walk back to my chosen mate.