A LUNA’S REJECTION

Chapter 3

Rejected by My Mate

When I wake up, I realize I'm in the infirmary—a small clinic beside the main hospital, usually reserved for minor injuries. As I attempt to sit up, a dull, throbbing pain sears through my skull. I groan softly, the ache relentless.

"Mia." Clara's familiar voice reaches me before I see her. She steps into view, her gaze sweeping over me with concern.

"What happened?" I mumble, still dazed.

"Olive kicked you pretty hard," she explains. "You’ve been out all night and most of today."

"Did she win?" I grumble, trying to focus.

Clara's lips twist into a smirk. "Nope. She made it to the semi-finals but lost."

I’m not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. On one hand, it’s a little satisfying knowing she didn’t win, given how much my head is killing me. On the other hand, losing to someone who didn’t even take the championship makes it feel more humiliating.

"Who beat her?" I ask.

Clara's smile widens. "Me, silly. She hurt my best friend, after all."

My eyes widen. "You made it to the semis?"

"Yeah," Clara sighs, her excitement tempered. "But then I lost to that b***h, Emery."

I finally notice the bruises on her arms and neck. They’re already fading, pale marks against her skin. Somehow, she’s managed to avoid any facial injuries, or they’ve healed by now. Meanwhile, I’m sure my eye is blackened, and the throbbing tells me it’s far from okay. I taste blood on my lip, but it must be healing, too.

Suddenly, my heart pounds faster. "Clara," I whisper urgently, "I had the Glaze."

Her eyes go wide. "What?"

I nod, pushing through the soreness. "I felt the connection. I found my mate."

Clara practically jumps out of her chair. "No way! Who is it?"

Before I can answer, the curtain at my bedside rustles aside. A warmth floods through me, starting from my fingertips and spreading outward, leaving my skin tingling. My gaze locks onto Bren. His intense eyes scan my face, then my bruised body, before shifting to Clara. Her shock is palpable.

"I need to speak to Mia," Bren says, his voice commanding.

Clara doesn't even hesitate. "Yes, Alpha," she replies, bowing her head and stepping out. I wonder if Bren mind-linked her. If so, it means Clara has completed the ceremonial process and now bears the pack's brand on her wrist. I glance at my own wrist. Still blank. No sigil. No shield and sword etched into my skin.

I turn to Bren, confusion swirling in my chest. "I'm your mate," I say softly.

"Keep your voice down," he orders. His eyes flicker downward, avoiding mine as he pulls Clara's chair closer and sits.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

Something’s off. He doesn’t seem like the Bren I know—the friendly guy who talked to me just yesterday. My wolf urges me to comfort him, to reach out and bridge the distance.

"What's wrong?" I ask, feeling the undeniable pull toward him. He’s never looked so striking, with his deep brown eyes and hands I suddenly want to hold. But something in him has changed.

Bren's jaw tightens. He’s silent for a moment, then mutters, "I don’t think I’m ready for a mate."

My heart skips, then races. "What the hell are you talking about?" I blurt out. Mates are chosen by the Moon Goddess. She doesn’t make mistakes. Bren's words make no sense.

"I'm not ready," he snaps, his voice louder, harsher.

My pulse thunders in my ears. "What makes you think I’m ready?" I shoot back.

He stands up, crossing his arms. "Great, then that’s settled," he says coldly. "We’ll reject each other."

The word "reject" hits like a knife, slicing into my soul. My wolf howls in agony, too stunned to react. "Are you serious?" I choke out. "I don’t want to reject you."

Bren scowls. "You just said—"

"Just because I said I’m not ready doesn’t mean I won’t try," I interrupt, my voice cracking. "Why are you doing this? How can you be so cruel?"

For a split second, he hesitates, and I think I see regret. But then his face hardens, and he becomes a stranger.

"You want the truth?" he spits. "You lost in the first round, Mia. You really think I want a Luna who can’t even win one fight? I need someone strong. Someone worthy of this pack. And you? You’re just a book nerd. You don't have what it takes."

This isn’t real. It can’t be. I’ve dreamed about finding my mate for years, imagining this moment a thousand times. I’m twenty-two, and I’ve clung to fairytales, believing that when it happened, it would be perfect. But this is a nightmare.

"I spoke to my Beta," Bren continues mercilessly. "And Jake. We all agree. When I do choose a Luna, it’ll be someone stronger than you."

Tears well in my eyes. "You can’t reject me," I whisper, desperation lacing my voice. My wolf is panicking, urging me to fix this. Why should I have to defend myself to Bren? He knows me. We studied together, spent days by the lake with Clara and Jake. How can he be so heartless?

Bren’s eyes darken. "Watch me," he growls.

"The King will be furious!" I plead, my voice cracking.

Bren’s expression turns even colder. "The King has bigger problems than this, Mia. He doesn’t care about some petty mate bond."

Tears blur my vision. I won’t cry, not here, not in front of him. In a final attempt, I reach for his hand. As our skin touches, a familiar jolt of warmth spreads through me, the mate bond struggling to hold on. For a heartbeat, Bren softens—but then he rips his hand away, anger blazing in his eyes.

His voice is harsh and final. "I, Alpha Bren Stevens, sever all ties with my mate, Mia Holm, and reject our connection, crafted by the Moon Goddess."

The bond doesn’t break cleanly. Instead, it tears, jagged and raw. The pain is excruciating, like a part of me is being ripped away. My wolf howls, and I clutch my chest, feeling the void where the bond used to be. Bren stumbles briefly, as if the rejection wounds him too, but he quickly straightens and walks out.

I’m left alone, shattered and empty. My wolf paces, pleading to chase after him, but what’s the point? He’s made his choice.

Clara bursts back into the room, panic in her eyes. "What happened?"

I can’t find the words. The pain is too real, too consuming. The dream I clung to is dead, shattered beyond repair.

"Mia," Clara whispers, her hands gentle on my shoulders. Her concern is piercing, but I feel hollow, like a shell of myself.

I meet her gaze, memories of our childhood dreams flooding back. We always imagined finding our mates, someone who would love us unconditionally. The dam breaks, and I sob, grief tearing through me. I throw whatever’s in reach—a pillow, a cup, a clipboard—unable to contain the pain.

Clara pulls me close, her arm a steady anchor. I need this moment, just one chance to let the weakness take over. I’ve been strong for too long, always fighting, always enduring.

Here, now, I don’t care if I’m not a Spartan. My parents abandoned me. My mate doesn’t want me. Maybe Bren is right. Maybe I’ll never be enough.

But I have to be.

*You will be,* my wolf whispers.

I cling to Clara, the heartbreak coursing through me, each wave more crushing than the last. Rejected, unwanted. My entire world is unraveling, and all I can do is cry.