The Rejected mate
791 Words
Damon Pov
I pushed open the door to the infirmary, my steps slow and measured. The air inside was thick with the scent of herbs and blood, but there was something else—something I couldn’t place.
She was sitting up on the bed, her back pressed against the wooden headboard, her face pale from exhaustion. Strands of tangled, dark hair fell over her shoulders, and her clothes were torn and stained with dried blood. Her wounds had been bandaged, but it was clear she was still weak.
Her eyes met mine the moment I stepped inside.
And something inside me shifted.
It was barely noticeable at first—a flicker, a whisper in the void. But then it grew, spreading through my chest like a pulse of forgotten energy. A part of me, a part I had thought long buried, stirred awake.
My wolf.
For years, he had been nothing but rage and vengeance, silent unless I called upon him to kill. But now, as I stood before this injured rogue, he moved.
It was so sudden, so unnatural, that I froze.
Her breath hitched, her fingers clutching the blanket around her. I saw it in her face—the confusion, the fear, the same unexplainable pull that I was feeling.
She wasn’t just any rogue.
"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice harsher than I intended.
She flinched but didn’t look away. "Talia," she whispered.
My wolf growled.
I took a step closer. "Why are you wolf-less?"
Her lips parted, but no words came. Instead, something flickered behind her eyes—pain, uncertainty. She didn’t know.
I inhaled sharply, and that was when it hit me.
Her scent.
It was unlike anything I had ever encountered before. Not just the usual scent of a wolf, but something deeper, richer—wild and ancient, something more. It wrapped around me, seeping into my lungs, clawing at my very core.
My body locked up, muscles going rigid.
Then I heard it.
Mate.
The word was a whisper, a breath against my mind, spoken by my wolf for the first time in years.
No.
No, this was impossible.
My heartbeat roared in my ears. I stepped back as though I had been burned, my claws itching to extend. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be.
She couldn’t be—
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to look at her again. Her scent, her presence—it was too powerful, too unnatural. My instincts screamed at me, and then it hit me.
She wasn’t just a wolf.
She was something else. Something dangerous.
"You’re not normal," I said coldly, my voice now edged with fury.
Her brows knitted in confusion. "What—?"
"You’re not just a wolf," I snarled, my hands curling into fists. "You’re a hybrid."
Her breath caught. "A what?"
"A Lycan."
The words left my mouth with disgust, and the moment I said them, I saw the way she recoiled.
But it wasn’t just her reaction that fueled my rage. It was mine.
My mate—my mate—was a creature that wasn’t meant to exist in my world.
My wolf howled in protest, but I ignored him. I had spent my life hunting down threats to my pack, vowing to eliminate anything that could put us in danger. And Lycans were monsters. Stronger, faster, ruthless. Unstable.
My mate was an enemy.
I bared my teeth, my voice dripping with venom. "I reject you."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Talia stared at me, wide-eyed, her body trembling.
"W-what?" she whispered, her voice cracking.
"I, Damon of the Moonbound Pack, reject you as my mate."
Her breath came in sharp gasps, her entire body going still as if she had been struck.
I expected the bond to break, expected the unbearable pull between us to snap into nothingness.
But it didn’t.
Instead, pain flickered in her eyes, raw and unguarded.
"I don’t—" she swallowed, shaking her head. "I don’t even know what I am."
Her words were a plea, but they did nothing to soften me.
"That’s not my problem," I said coldly. "I don’t want you here."
Her lower lip trembled, her hands curling around the blanket as if holding on for dear life. "I didn’t ask for this," she whispered.
Neither did I.
But it didn’t change what had to be done.
I turned on my heel, my chest tight with anger and confusion. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to have a mate. Especially not her.
The second I stepped out of the room, I slammed the door behind me, needing to put as much distance between us as possible.
I had been prepared to fight anything.
But not this.
Not her.
- Writer
