My Rejected Mate Regrets

I never questioned my fate. While others spend lifetimes searching for purpose, mine was written in blood from birth. Daughter of two Guardians - the elite warriors who protect our pack's Alpha line - I was born to wield a blade.

My parents were fated mates. That rare, sacred bond where two souls become one. Most wolves spend years yearning for that connection. Some fools reject it, seeing love as weakness. But my parents? Their bond forged them into legends. Together, they stood as Blackthorn Pack's most formidable protectors.

As lead Guardians, they safeguarded Alpha Alistair Grey, his mate Luna Seraphina, and their heir - young Adrian. Then came the Nightshade Pack's betrayal. Five years old, I watched my mother Ivy die shielding our Luna and Adrian from assassins.

In that same ambush, my father Grant fought like a demon. He held off five attackers single-handedly until reinforcements arrived. Then he felt it - the moment my mother's life thread snapped. His hesitation cost him everything. A Nightshade warrior's jaws crushed his spine.

Werewolves heal most wounds. But not this. Not when the mating bond shatters alongside your body. Most wolves follow their mates into death. My father stayed - broken, wheelchair-bound, a ghost of the warrior he'd been - just for me.

He tries. He loves me. But that battle stole everything: his mate, his legs, his purpose. Some days, I wonder if death would've been kinder.