“Rejected?” Darius echoed, his voice low but sharp, like the word itself cut him. His chest tightened, disbelief flashing in his eyes. “That is… impossible.”
No wolf rejected their fated. It was a law older than any written, a truth embedded in the very marrow of their kind. Fated mates were sacred—the moon goddess’s most perfect gift. To reject was not just taboo; it was an offense against their very nature. Wolves whispered about it as a myth, a curse, something that could happen in theory but never did. Never.
And yet here she was, standing before him, fragile and trembling, her eyes carrying the proof in their sorrow.
No wonder she looked as though life itself had been drained from her. No wonder every breath she took seemed heavy.
Her other half had cast her aside.
Darius’s mind
