Chapter 3

I hadn’t slept a wink all night, my eyes swollen and red. The faint moonlight filtering through the curtains did little to soothe the ache in my chest. My wolf stirred restlessly, a low growl echoing in the back of my mind, but I silenced it with a sharp mental command. There was no room for weakness now.

At dawn, Dane Larson, my mate and the former Alpha heir of the Larson Pack, hurried back into the packhouse. His broad shoulders were tense, and his usually commanding presence felt... off. His scent—pine and cedarwood—carried the faintest trace of another woman, a floral note that made my stomach churn.

Seeing my swollen eyes, Dane paused, his dark brows furrowing. His voice, deep and smooth, broke the silence. "Chana, what's wrong? Another nightmare?"

I couldn’t tell if the concern in his tone was genuine or just another act. The exhaustion weighing me down made it hard to care.

Dane stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over me. He pulled me into his arms, his muscles rigid under his shirt. "I had to oversee a pack patrol last night," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "One of the warriors got injured, and I had to step in. I didn’t want to wake you or Yareli, so I didn’t say anything."

His words sounded rehearsed, and the faint scent of Natasha Harris lingered on him, betraying his lie. My wolf growled again, but I pushed her down.

"I brought breakfast," he continued, his voice softening in that way that used to make me melt. "Why don’t you get up and eat something? I’ll take Yareli to the pack school later, and you can rest."

I wanted to confront him. To demand the truth about his late-night absences, about the child Natasha was carrying—was it his? But the words stuck in my throat. I was too tired, too numb. The only thing I couldn’t let go of was my daughter, Yareli.

After a sleepless night of reflection, I knew what I had to do. I wanted to sever the mate bond with Dane. I could give up everything, but Yareli would stay with me.

Once Dane left with Yareli, I drafted the rejection vow, my hands trembling as I wrote the words. I waited for him to return, the paper burning in my grip, but instead of coming back, he called.

"Chana," his voice was clipped, authoritative, "one of the warriors had an accident during training. I have to stay and handle it. I won’t be back until tonight. Don’t forget to pick up Yareli."

Before I could respond, he hung up. I knew he wasn’t with the warriors. He was with her—Natasha.

I pulled out a suitcase and started packing. Yareli and I would leave the Larson territory and return to my old pack. I couldn’t stay here any longer.

In the afternoon, I arrived at the pack school to pick up Yareli. But as I approached, I saw her—Natasha. Her pregnant belly was prominent, and she stood there with a disdainful smirk, her golden hair catching the sunlight.

"Chana, long time no see," she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

I ignored her, bending down to pick up Yareli. My daughter’s small hands gripped my shoulders tightly, her wide eyes darting between Natasha and me.

Natasha followed us, her tone laced with venom. "You know, Chana, if I hadn’t left Dane all those years ago, you’d never have had the chance to be his mate."

"You’ve really let yourself go, haven’t you? Barely thirty, and you look like you’ve aged a decade."

"Your daughter’s clothes—such a pity. They look like they came from a rogue’s den."

"When my son is born, he’ll have everything. The finest clothes, the best education—"

I bit back my anger, my wolf snarling inside me. I kept walking, but Yareli, usually so quiet, glared at Natasha. "You’re a bad woman! Stop following us!"

Natasha laughed, a cold, cruel sound. "Dane doesn’t like daughters," she said, her voice sharp. "He always wanted a son."

"Because you couldn’t give him one, he never brought you and Yareli back to the Larson Pack."

"I’m due at the end of this month, and I’ve confirmed—it’s a boy."

"This is Dane’s heir, his true legacy."

"Chana, you and Yareli will never be accepted by his family. You should just leave."

Her words cut deep, not just for me but for Yareli. My daughter’s small face crumpled, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You’re lying!" she shouted. "Daddy said he loves me the most!"

Before I could react, Natasha slapped Yareli—hard. The sound echoed in the quiet schoolyard. My wolf roared, and I lunged at Natasha, shoving her to the ground.

"Don’t you dare touch my daughter!" I snarled, my voice laced with the alpha tone I rarely used.

But before I could do more, Dane appeared, his presence commanding and his expression dark. He stood between us, his broad shoulders blocking my view of Natasha.

"Chana," he said, his voice cold and authoritative, "what the hell do you think you’re doing?"

I met his gaze, my own eyes blazing with defiance. "Protecting our daughter," I spat. "Something you seem incapable of."

For a moment, he looked stunned, but then his expression hardened. "You’re out of line," he growled, his alpha tone pressing down on me.

But I refused to back down. This time, I was done playing by his rules.