The Wrong Mate

CHAPTER 3

Corey and Landon don’t stop.

If anything, they get louder.

The sound of fists meeting flesh echoes across the courtyard, sharp and wet, pulling attention like blood in the water. It doesn’t take long before wolves start drifting closer in loose circles, pretending they’re just passing by, pretending they’re not watching with wide eyes and held breaths. Spectators. The whole f*****g pack, gathering to witness something that should never have been public, something raw and ugly and irreversible.

“Enough!” I scream, my voice shredding as it tears out of my chest.

They don’t hear me.

Landon slams Corey into the ground again, gravel spraying as Corey snarls and swings back, his knuckles already split, blood running down his cheek and dripping onto the stone. It should terrify me. It should freeze me in place.

Instead, something snaps.

Not fear.

Not panic.

Anger.

Hot, blinding, reckless anger that burns straight through my chest and leaves nothing but resolve behind. I rush forward before anyone can stop me and shove myself between them, planting my hands flat against both their chests and pushing with everything I have.

“Stop it!” I yell. “Both of you, quit it right now!”

They freeze.

Not because they suddenly came to their senses, but because they’re shocked. Shocked that I’m there. Shocked that I put myself between two raging wolves without hesitation.

“We don’t need the whole f*****g pack watching this s**t,” I snap, spinning on them, chest heaving, voice shaking with fury. “This isn’t entertainment.”

Corey’s eyes lock on mine instantly, the rage in them cracking open to reveal pure concern underneath. “Chey, get back.”

“No,” I say fiercely, not even glancing away. “I’m not moving.”

Landon straightens slowly, rolling his shoulders like the fight barely mattered to him. He wipes blood from his lip with the back of his hand, eyes dark and calculating as they settle on me.

“This doesn’t concern you anymore,” he says, voice cool and dismissive.

“Oh, it absolutely does,” I fire back. “You don’t get to fight over me like I’m some prize.”

A heavy presence rolls through the courtyard.

It’s immediate. Suffocating.

Silence spreads like a wave crashing through the crowd, conversations dying mid word. I don’t have to turn to know who it is.

The Alpha steps outside.

Landon’s father moves with calm authority, his posture relaxed but his presence dominating. His gaze sweeps over the scene, taking in the blood, the crowd, the tension hanging thick enough to choke on. His jaw tightens when his eyes land on his son, then flick to Corey.

“What’s going on here?” he demands.

I don’t wait for Landon to answer.

“Nothing that needs an audience,” I say sharply, my voice steady despite the way my heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest. I turn to Corey, grabbing his arm, my grip tight, grounding. “Go home.”

He looks at me like I’ve just ripped something vital out of his chest.

“Cheyenne-”

“Please,” I say quietly, the edge cracking despite my effort to hold it together. “Go home. I’ll come see you later. I promise.”

His jaw clenches hard. I can feel his wolf fighting him, resisting, furious and unwilling to leave me here. For a long second, I’m afraid he won’t listen.

Finally, he nods once. Sharp. Reluctant.

“Be careful,” he murmurs, his voice rough.

“I always am,” I lie.

He backs away slowly, never taking his eyes off Landon, every step clearly costing him something. His friends follow close behind, forming a loose barrier as they disappear into the shadows beyond the lights.

The Alpha watches him go, expression unreadable, then turns his attention back to me.

“And you,” he says, voice measured and final. “Inside. Now.”

Before I can respond, Landon steps closer, his presence pressing in on me again. His voice drops, low and commanding, meant only for me.

“You’re not to speak to Corey again.”

I whip around on him so fast my dress sways sharply. “Go to hell.”

The words are sharp, clean, and final.

Gasps ripple through the crowd. I can feel them, the shock, the disbelief. No one talks to the Alpha’s son like that. No one defies him in public.

I don’t care.

I don’t wait for permission. I turn on my heel and walk away, spine straight, heart hammering, leaving the Alpha and his son standing there staring after me.

I don’t look back.

By the time I get home, the lights are already on.

Of course they are.

The front door barely closes behind me before my mom’s voice hits, breathless and bright.

“Oh, Cheyenne,” she breathes, rushing toward me, her eyes shining with something dangerously close to joy. “We heard.”

My dad stands behind her, smiling like tonight was the best thing that could’ve happened.

“Congratulations,” he says warmly. “The Alpha’s son. That’s… that’s huge.”

I stare at them, stunned, my chest tightening painfully. “Are you kidding me?”

“Someone mind linked us,” my mom continues, oblivious to the way my hands are shaking. “Everyone knows already. This is wonderful for our family.”

Wonderful.

The word echoes hollowly in my head.

I don’t answer. I don’t scream. I don’t cry.

I walk straight past them.

“Cheyenne,” my dad calls after me, confusion creeping into his voice.

I take the stairs two at a time, my feet barely touching the steps. I reach my room and slam the door hard enough to rattle the walls. The sound echoes, sharp and final.

I lean against it, shaking.

I have hated Landon since we started high school.

Since the first time he talked down to someone like they were beneath him. Since the way he treated girls like toys and guys like competition. Since the way he walked through life like rules didn’t apply to him, like respect was something owed, not earned.

How the hell can I be mated to him?

I tear the dress off like it’s burning me, letting it pool on the floor in a useless heap of silk and lace. I head straight for the bathroom and twist the water as hot as it’ll go. Steam fills the room as I step under it, scrubbing my skin like I can wash fate off if I try hard enough.

My hands shake as I drag soap over my arms, my neck, my collarbone. I rest my forehead against the tile, breathing hard, water pounding against my back.

This isn’t happening.

This isn’t real.

Eventually, the water cools and I shut it off, wrapping myself in a towel. I dry off, pull on pajamas with clumsy, shaking hands, and crawl into bed. I yank the covers over my head, curling in on myself like a kid hiding from monsters.

If I don’t see it, maybe it didn’t happen.

My phone buzzes.

Once.

Twice.

Again and again.

The screen lights up under the covers, illuminating names I don’t want to see. Messages. Missed calls. Rachel. Friends. Packmates. People who suddenly think they’re entitled to my thoughts, my feelings, my future.

I flip the phone face down.

Then I turn it off completely.

Silence rushes in, heavy and almost peaceful.

I’m just starting to breathe again when I hear it.

The soft scrape of the window.

My heart leaps into my throat. I shove the covers down and look over just as the window slides open and a familiar shape climbs through.

“Corey,” I whisper.

He lands lightly on the floor, closing the window behind him. His eyes scan the room first, then settle on me, searching like he needs to make sure I’m real. He crosses the room in three long strides and stops in front of my bed.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

I shake my head. “No.”

He sits beside me, hands clenched on his knees, tension radiating off him. “Are you… are you going to accept him?”

The question hurts more than the fight did. More than Landon’s words. More than my parents’ smiles.

“No,” I say immediately. “Never.”

Relief flickers across his face, brief and fragile, then fades just as fast.

“But,” I continue, swallowing hard, “he made it clear he’s not rejecting me. And if I reject him… he won’t accept it.”

Corey’s jaw tightens. He knows what that means. We both do.

“If he doesn’t accept the rejection,” Corey says quietly, voice heavy, “the bond will force itself.”

I nod, tears burning behind my eyes. “And then I’m his. Forever.”

There’s nothing we can do about it.

The truth sits between us, heavy and cruel and suffocating.

Corey reaches for my hand, gripping it like he’s afraid to let go, like letting go would mean losing me completely. “I won’t give up,” he says fiercely.

I squeeze back, my heart breaking with every beat. “I know.”

But fate doesn’t care about promises.

And tonight proved that it never plays fair.