Page 44 of Rejected Alpha Mate

I’ve been saying “yes” to everything.

“Yes” to Dominic’s optimism, since he suggested marrying his best friend for my safety.

Now, it’s “yes” to Delilah’s plans, to Arianna’s reassurances, to everyone holding this belief that I simply need to train and be prepared for the worst.

Saying “yes” is easier than telling them the truth—that I feel like I’m about to implode with all this pressure on me, as if my feelings don’t matter, as if I’m a brick wall who’s been numb to everything we’ve been facing.

Is it my fault? Did I give everyone the wrong impression by being consistently strong, never cracking?

Because the truth is, I haven’t had time to grieve. Not the loss of my freedom, not the death of the life I built for myself outside this madness, a life and future I was looking forward to. I haven’t grieved the loss of a friendship that was dear to me, even if it was one-sided. I've barely made peace with the fact that I'm a witch.

I haven’t even had time to grieve the piece of me I gave to Nicholas last night.

I don’t even know who I am anymore. Witch, wolf, wife, weapon…it all blurs and seems to morph together in an unclear picture until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

And I just wish Nicholas would leave me alone.

“Please,” I plead, my lips trembling as I fight the urge to let tears gloss over my eyes. “Just let me go.”

Nicholas’s eyes soften—the same damned way they did last night—and he releases my wrist, lifting his hand in a show of quiet surrender.

I step into my bedroom, too overwhelmed to slam the door in his face like I did on my first night here, and too paranoid to turn around and meet his eyes. I don’t stop walking until I’m at the bed, sinking onto it, only to find Nicholas hovering at the doorway.

He exhales sharply. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk,” I shake my head, but Nicholas is adamant, stepping inside and closing the door behind him, forcing me to get back to my feet to defend myself. “Talking isn’t gonna fix anything. It’s not like it changes things.” My paranoia flickers in a different direction this time when I see a pair of shadows moving across my curtain.

It’s Dominic and Tyler walking out through the porch.

Nicholas pauses too, but when their shadows disappear, he begins, “Donna—”

“No!” my voice cracks through the air like a whip, startling even me. “Stop saying my name like that. Stop looking at me like I’m some broken thing you can fix!”

Nicholas freezes, taken aback by the venom in my tone. I can’t stop now. I’ve been holding this in for far too long.

“I don’t need your sympathy, Nicholas! I don’t need you hovering, watching, waiting for me to fall apart. You already did enough damage!”

He blinks fervently as if he’s recovering from a slap across the face, his jaw tightening. “You think I don’t know that?” he asks with a frown.

“I think you don’t know anything!” The words tip out of my throat, sharp and raw. “You think you can just waltz back into my life, kiss me, sleep with me, and suddenly everything is fine? It’s not fine!”

He opens his mouth and tries to speak, but I keep going, every word a release valve for the pressure building in my chest. I let loose, and it isn’t pretty, and I keep going even though I’m shocked at myself.

“You think what happened between us last summer meant something? You rejected me, Nicholas. You made me feel like I imagined it all. And now you act like fate dragged us back together, like we’re some tragic love story written in the stars.” I let out a long exhale, catching my breath, giving Nicholas time to counter.

“We’re fated mates, Donna,” he says as if it explains everything.

My heart skips a beat, but I tense up as he approaches me, putting up a hand to stop him. He’s the one who rejected me, made me feel crazy for thinking we were fated mates, and now he wants to use it to justify being here when I need space.

“No, maybe we’re not fated at all. Maybe we were just…wrong. Maybe I got it all wrong.”

He frowns, confusion flickering in his eyes. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do!” My voice breaks, trembling with something that sounds more like grief than anger. “Maybe the mate bond isn’t even real. Maybe that’s why the ritual didn’t work when I tried to save you, because whatever this is, it’s fake. It’s forced. It’s a lie!”

The last word leaves me shaking. My chest tightens, my vision swims, and suddenly I can’t breathe. The ground feels like it’s tilting beneath my feet, and I hug my arms around my chest.

“Donna—” Nicholas tries reaching for me, but I swat his hand away.