My Forbidden Mate

Chapter 3

As hard as I tried to listen to whatever Brandon was saying about the vinedresser right now, I couldn’t concentrate.

It has been few days after I got marked by my mate. Days after he held me in his arms, days after he kissed the sense out of me. My lips tingled and my core squirmed as memories of that night flashed through my mind.

My wolf has been hurt, feeling dejected and sad. I mean, she has just experienced a heartbreak from her mate, without any explanation. He just walked out on her without completing the mating process.

I am a mess, but I don’t show it.

My parents and my best friends asked if I found my mate, but I just told them no. Thankfully the mark from the mating had healed. I’m sure they have more answers, but they understand boundaries.

I forced a polite smile, nodding along as Brandon continued talking about whatever pack training drill was happening later this week. But my mind was miles away, trapped back in that bedroom.

Ever since that night, Dylan had mastered the art of avoidance. Whenever our paths crossed in the grand pack house, he looked right through me as if we were total strangers. No lingering glances. No stolen words. Just an icy, suffocating wall that made my chest tighten with a burning ache. He had left before we could finish the mating process, leaving our bond hanging by a thread—and leaving me to suffer in silence.

"Ivy? Earth to Ivy!" Brandon waved a hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my trance. "Are you even listening to me? I said, the Alpha wants everyone gathered in the main courtyard before sunset."

I blinked, forcing my expression to smooth over. "Yeah. Sorry, Brandon. Just... didn't sleep well."

"Right. Well, don't keep him waiting. You know how strict he's been lately."

With a final nod, Brandon excused himself to find Emily, leaving me standing alone near the edge of the training grounds. The afternoon air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth, but a sudden shift in the breeze made my skin prickle.

Strawberry.

My wolf surged to life inside my mind, her ears pinning back defensively. I froze. That was the exact same sweet, sickening scent that had lingered in the hallway outside my bedroom the night Dylan marked me.

Slowly, I turned my head toward the VIP viewing pavilion overlooking the training ring. Standing near the railing, chatting familiarly with a tall, broad-shouldered warrior, was Eliza.

She looked radiant in a pastel sundress, her laughter carrying over the noise of the pack members sparring below. But what made my blood run cold wasn't her presence—it was the man walking up behind her.

Dylan.

He didn't look at me. Instead, his hand came up lazily to rest on the small of Eliza's back, a possessive, casual gesture that he used to reserve only for me when we were children. Eliza turned, flashing him a brilliant, knowing smile that felt less like a greeting and more like a calculated victory.

My breath hitched. The air vanished from my lungs.

So that was who had been outside my door. The realization hit me like a physical blow. Eliza had seen us. She had known. And now, Dylan was playing right into whatever game she was running to keep us apart.

My wolf let out a distressed, angry whimper, echoing the sharp pain tearing through my chest. He was pushing me away to protect her, or worse—to protect himself from a bond he was too cowardly to face.

Before I could stop myself, my feet began carrying me straight toward them. If he wanted to act like I didn't exist, I was going to give him a reason to remember me.