Chapter 1The summer I turned eighteen, Father brought his mistress and her bastard home on the Blood Moon.
Father made Mom accept Valeria Bloodfang's formal greeting while that brat Vesca smirked.
Mom smiled through it. Then took a silver blade to her wrists before dawn.
Blood Moons became my worst nightmare.
So on my mating day, I told Draven Ironclaw: "If you ever want to break our bond, just take me to see the Blood Moon."
He swore—no rival pack wolves would ever set foot in our territory.
Five years later, I walked out of my lab after cracking the wolfsbane antidote to find the entire corridor lined with Crimsonveil Pack wolves.
My mate standing there, and next to him?
Vesca Bloodfang—the bitch whose mother destroyed mine!
"She's your sister. She wants to make amends," Draven said.
I stared at him for two seconds, then walked away.
Sister? I never had a FUCKING sister!
And starting right now, I wouldn't have a mate either!
Congrats, Draven—you're about to be rejected and PACKLESS!
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The year I left high school, on Mom's naming day, Father brought home a Crimsonveil she-wolf and her daughter during a Blood Moon.
Mom accepted the silver-edged greeting Vesca handed her and quietly endured her thirty-ninth Blood Moon. That night, she chose silver death.
So on my mating ceremony, I told Draven Ironclaw, "If you want to sever our bond, just force me through another Blood Moon betrayal."
He pulled me close, his wolf rumbling protectively. "Don't worry, love. No rival pack sets foot on our land. Ever."
Five years later, during a territorial negotiation, he threw out the Crimsonveil delegates and blacklisted them completely—just because their Beta wore a crimson rose pin.
That day, I thought the mate bond could actually be sacred.
Until six months later, I finished the wolfsbane resistance serum and walked out of the lab.
The entire hallway was packed with Crimsonveil wolves.
And there was Draven, standing dead center.
Right next to him? Vesca Bloodfang—the same she-wolf he'd expelled—smiling like she'd already won.
My face went ice-cold, but he just shrugged like it was nothing.
"Vesca organized this for you. She's your sister. She wants to patch things up between you two."
I stared at Draven for two flat seconds, then turned and walked out.
I don't have a sister.
And as of right now, I don't need a mate either.
I sat alone at Mom's burial ground for three hours.
Today was her naming day and the tenth anniversary of her silver death.
Blood Moons used to mean sacred bonds in our pack.
But ten years ago, Father stood by while Valeria Bloodfang's whelp handed Mom that ritual greeting, shattering what was left of her wolf.
Blood Moons became my nightmare.
And ten years later, my mate brought the she-wolf who destroyed my mother right back into my life—with a whole pack of her kind. Talk about ripping open old wounds.
Howls echoed in the distance—Draven's celebration for my wolfsbane breakthrough.
Six months of hell, 180 days of no sleep, all my work. Now it felt like Vesca's victory howl.
I said goodbye to Mom and stood when Draven's call came through.
He was drunk: "Celebration's almost over and you're MIA? What kind of pack researcher are you?"
I stayed quiet.
Any other night, I would've played the sweet, devoted mate. But tonight I had nothing left to give.
Draven's voice sharpened: "Sable, I'm talking to you! Where the hell did you disappear to?"
"The burial grounds."
Draven went silent. Like he suddenly remembered today was Mom's anniversary. Like he suddenly remembered that for my research, I'd missed my own shifting day, skipped our bond renewal ceremony. The one thing I'd asked was for him to visit Mom's resting place with me.
Two seconds of dead air before he finally spoke: "I... I got caught up in the celebration. I forgot."
"Wait for me."
I hung up, then turned and left.
But when I reached the tree line, Draven's texts came through:
[Sable, it's too late tonight. Next time, okay?]
[Vesca's wasted. I need to get her back to Crimsonveil territory first.]
[Don't worry, I'll make it up to you.]
I wasn't surprised at all.
With Vesca's games, of course she'd find a way to keep Draven busy tonight. I could see straight through her act.
Draven, who'd clawed his way up from rogue to Alpha, could definitely see it too.
But Draven didn't care. He was eating it up. He didn't give a damn about my feelings.
Fine.
From now on, I didn't have to care about his either.
Chapter 2
Draven didn't return to the den that night. No mindlink, no howl, nothing.
I didn't care. Didn't even reach out through our bond.
Next morning, I got to the pack research facility early. Draven was Alpha, I ran Medical Development. In five years, we'd built Ironpeak Pack from a rogue crew to a territorial powerhouse.
But our mate bond? Went the opposite direction.
Phase one of the wolfsbane resistance serum was done, so things were relatively quiet for now.
I was sipping my coffee, reading through the Rejection ritual documents my pack lawyer sent, when Draven walked into my lab.
"Vesca twisted her ankle shifting back last night, so I had to help her.
Got late, so I crashed at the neutral zone lodge."
I nodded and kept scanning the Rejection terms, answering without looking up: "Okay, got it."
Made sense. We were about to sever the bond anyway.
Who he denned with and where was his business, not mine. No need to loop me in.
Draven froze, like he wanted to say something but swallowed it back.
"Let's hunt together tonight. You're the reason this serum breakthrough happened—we should celebrate properly."
He paused, eyes flicking to mine, then added: "Maybe we should invite Vesca too. I think you two need to clear the air. She was just a pup when your mom chose silver death, you know."
Hearing Draven defend Vesca made my claws dig into the page.
I wanted to ask him—wasn't I just a pup too when my mom died?
I shoved down the rage, took a sip of coffee, and said quietly: "Stay out of it. Tonight, just us."
We needed to finalize the Rejection anyway. Didn't need a witness.
Sister? My mom only had one daughter. Me.
Draven looked at me like I was just being territorial.
He was about to smirk and say something when his phone buzzed.
The second he saw "Vesca" flash across the screen, his whole expression softened. He grabbed it and bolted from my lab.
Near moonrise, Draven sent me coordinates for a meeting spot.
Some upscale neutral territory restaurant. His idea of making amends.
I shoved the Rejection documents in my bag and headed out.
Draven's truck pulled up as I left the facility. He rolled down the window: "Head home and shift into something nice. Quick pack business, then I'll meet you there."
He drove off before I could respond.
I used to spend hours preparing for nights with Draven. Stressing over which form to take, how to scent myself, making sure I looked perfect for my Alpha.
Not tonight though. No point.
Instead, I hit up a pack-friendly spa nearby. Let my wolf unwind after all those sleepless nights in the lab. Felt incredible.
When I got to the restaurant, Draven wasn't there yet. I tried the mindlink—he'd blocked me out.
I shrugged and didn't wait around like usual. Just ordered.
The place was actually solid. Good atmosphere, excellent game meat. Way better than choking down ration packs at the facility.
So when Draven never showed, I wasn't even pissed.
The bastard threw away seven years of bond with me. Why would I give a damn about one more no-show?
Truth was, the biggest gift he could give me now was agreeing to the Rejection ceremony.
Chapter 3
After the meal, I walked back through pack territory slowly. All those sleepless nights in the lab had cut me off from the world. The night sounds—distant howls, rustling leaves—felt grounding.
I stopped when I reached a familiar clearing.
The old den where Draven and I first built Ironpeak Pack was gone—razed completely.
That little hunting ground where we'd track rabbits together to save resources? Now it was some upscale training facility.
Everything changes. Even the bond memories I used to treasure had dulled with time.
My phone buzzed. It was my old mentor.
There was hesitation in Dr. Morrigan's voice: "Sable, your application for the classified Nightfall Project got Council approval yesterday."
"But I need to ask one more time—are you absolutely sure about this?"
"It's a five-year commitment minimum. Without you, your mate's pack will collapse."
"Will he accept this?"
I stepped forward, leaving that familiar territory behind, my voice steady: "Dr. Morrigan, I'm initiating Rejection."
...
Since the classified project was launching soon and I wanted out fast, I told her to send transport tomorrow.
I wasn't in the mood to patrol anymore, so I just shifted and ran back to the den.
The main room lights were on. Draven was on the couch, texting someone.
The second he caught my scent, his scowl disappeared.
He rushed over, grabbed my wrist, and demanded: "Why didn't you wait for me at the meeting spot? I showed up and you were gone—do you know how that makes me look?!"
I stared at him, surprised he'd actually shown.
But seeing him act all territorial and offended? I almost laughed.
Made sense though. He was used to me waiting around for my Alpha.
I yanked my wrist from Draven's grip. "I finished eating. Why would I stick around?"
Maybe realizing he was actually in the wrong, he swallowed his irritation and shoved a wrapped box at me.
"Got this specially for you today. Go ahead, open it."
Not surprising. After bailing on me twice, he had to offer some token gesture.
That was Draven's pattern—screw up, then toss me some trinket afterward.
And I used to sit there desperately hoping for more, maybe just a little more of his time.
I took the box and dropped it on the couch.
"How thoughtful."
My tone was flat and mechanical.
His expression froze. First time he'd actually noticed I was just going through the motions.
Panic flickered behind his eyes as he reached for my hand again.
That's when Vesca's voice drifted down from upstairs:
"Draven, maybe I should just head back to Crimsonveil territory. I don't want Sable getting the wrong idea when she returns."
She appeared at the top of the stairs, and when she saw me, the smugness in her wolf's eyes vanished. She covered her mouth, putting on this whole shocked act.
Draven rushed to explain: "Vesca hurt her ankle shifting yesterday, so I took her to the pack healer today. That's why I was late."
"She can barely walk right now, so I told her to stay in the guest den tonight."
He stared at me intensely, like he was bracing for me to lose my shit.
I nodded, completely unbothered: "Fine. I'll crash at the research facility then."
Draven just stood there, stunned. This wasn't the reaction he was expecting.
"If you really don't want Vesca staying here, I can escort her back to—"
Before he could finish, Vesca tumbled down the stairs and started sobbing, clutching her ankle.
Draven freaked out and rushed to carry her back upstairs, checking her injury.
When I came back downstairs with my go-bag, Draven reappeared in the main room.
He grabbed my wrist, refusing to let go.
Finally, with Vesca calling for him upstairs, he said:
"Tomorrow. I'll go with you to your mom's resting place. We'll sort everything out there."
I stared at him and walked out.
Sort things out? He could sort them out with my pack lawyer.
The second Vesca stepped foot in our den, I was done discussing anything with him—even the Rejection terms.
