Rejected by the Alpha's Choice

After getting into the car, I noticed a woman’s coat and a child’s rattle in the backseat.

“A friend of mine and his mate came with me to the pack run today, but their car broke down. They left these behind when they switched cars,” Axton explained quickly, his voice tinged with nervousness.

I thought of what he had said during the pack run, how he had claimed to still care for me, yet here was evidence of another life he was building—one that didn’t include me.

He had once sworn to me, under the Moon Goddess, that I would be his only mate. But now, it seemed those words meant nothing.

I said nothing, instead turning my gaze to the window, letting the passing scenery blur as I tried to steady my thoughts.

Throughout the drive, Axton kept asking about how I had been these past three years. His questions felt hollow, and I answered distractedly, my mind elsewhere. I didn’t want small talk; I wanted the truth.

The chill from the pack run air lingered, and I coughed lightly. My eyes fell on a handkerchief resting on the car’s console.

I reached for it, but Axton stopped me.

“That one smells like jasmine. I remember you hate jasmine,” he said, pulling out another handkerchief from a hidden compartment. “Here, use this one.”

The scent of roses wafted from the new handkerchief. Roses—the smell I despised most, the one that always made my eyes sting and my throat tighten.

He had once seen me in tears after smelling roses and promised, “I’ll always remember. No roses for you.”

But now, he was handing me a rose-scented handkerchief, oblivious to the irony.

“What’s wrong? You used to love roses,” he said, his brow furrowed as he noticed my discomfort.

I didn’t bother explaining. Instead, I closed my eyes, pretending to rest.

Back at the Taylor pack house, Axton had the kitchen prepare a lavish meal for me.

“Eat up. You’ve lost so much weight these past three years,” he said, his tone soft but distant.

The table was filled with spicy dishes, each one a reminder of how much he had forgotten. I couldn’t eat spicy food—it always upset my stomach. He used to know that. The meals in the pack house had always been tailored to my tastes, light and mild.

He didn’t notice my hesitation, eating heartily as he spoke.

“With the marking ceremony coming up, you should stay here and prepare. It’ll be good to have you back,” he said casually.

My hand tightened around my fork. He had forgotten everything—my dislikes, my preferences, even my dreams. I had written to him about my desire to teach at the pack academy, but he seemed to have dismissed it entirely.

I forced myself to take a bite, the spice burning my throat.

“I mentioned in my letters that I wanted to—” I began, but a pack member interrupted, knocking on the door.

“Alpha—” the pack member started, glancing at Axton with a mix of hesitation and urgency.

Axton’s expression shifted, a flicker of panic in his eyes. He stood abruptly, tossing a quick excuse my way.

“Victoria, I’ll be right back. Something urgent came up.”

Before I could respond, he was gone, leaving me alone at the table.

I watched him leave, my heart aching. For three years, I had counted the days, longing to return to him, to our life together. But now, those hopes felt like sand slipping through my fingers, impossible to hold onto.