The Wrong Mate

CHAPTER 4

I don’t sleep much that night.

I lie there staring at the ceiling, counting shadows as they shift and stretch with the slow crawl of time, listening to the house settle and creak like it’s breathing without me. Every sound feels amplified in the dark. The tick of the clock. The faint hum of electricity in the walls. The distant hoot of an owl outside my window. My body is exhausted, but my mind refuses to shut up.

Every time I close my eyes, it’s there again.

Fists flying.

The sick, wet sound of impact.

Landon’s voice, calm and entitled.

Corey’s snarl, raw and desperate.

I feel Corey’s hand in mine, gripping like he already knew what was coming, like he was trying to anchor himself to me before the ground gave out beneath us. My chest tightens every time I think about his face when I told him to go home. Like I chose to leave him behind, even though I know it was the only thing keeping that night from ending even worse.

My wolf doesn’t rest either.

She paces under my skin, restless and sharp, claws scraping at the inside of my ribs. She doesn’t curl up. She doesn’t settle. She prowls, circling the same thoughts over and over like she’s looking for something solid to attack. Something to blame.

At some point, the black outside my window starts to thin. The sky lightens from ink to charcoal to a pale, washed-out grey. Morning creeps in whether I want it to or not, slow and relentless.

I stay in my room long after I hear my parents moving around.

The shower turns on down the hall. Cabinets open and close in the kitchen. A mug clinks against the counter. My mom hums softly, the same absent-minded tune she always does in the mornings, like this is just another day. Like last night didn’t fracture my entire life right down the middle.

That hurts more than anything.

I don’t move until I hear the front door open and close again. Their car starts. Gravel crunches under the tires as they pull away down the drive.

Only then do I come out of my bedroom.

The house feels too quiet. Too empty. Like it’s holding its breath, waiting for something to explode. I pad into the kitchen barefoot, grab a glass, and fill it with water. I drink it standing at the counter, swallowing too fast, the cool liquid doing nothing to calm the knot in my stomach. My hands shake a little, just enough that I notice.

I don’t bother eating. Food feels pointless right now. Everything does.

I don’t want to talk to anyone about what happened last night.

Not my parents, who see opportunity instead of pain.

Not my friends, who will dissect every detail like it’s entertainment.

Not the pack, who already decided how this story is supposed to end.

I don’t want their sympathy or their excitement or their opinions about my future. I don’t want to hear the word mate ever again.

A knock sounds at the door.

My stomach drops hard enough that I have to grab the edge of the counter.

I already know who it is.

Rachel doesn’t wait for me to answer. She lets herself in like she’s done a thousand times before, but she doesn’t look like my best friend right now. Her eyes are red-rimmed and swollen. Her jaw is tight. She looks wired and fragile at the same time, like she hasn’t slept either and might shatter if someone breathes wrong around her.

“We need to talk,” she says immediately.

I close my eyes for half a second, then open them again. “Rachel, I really don’t-”

“I went to see Landon,” she cuts in.

That stops me cold.

The words land like a slap.

“You did what?” I ask, my voice flat.

She crosses her arms over her chest like she’s bracing herself for impact. “I needed answers. I needed to hear it from him.”

My throat tightens. “And?”

“He’s not rejecting you,” she says, her voice sharp with hurt and disbelief. “And he’s not accepting your rejection either.”

I already knew that, but hearing it out loud, from her, makes it real in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

“I know,” I say quietly.

Her eyes flash, anger flaring through the tears. “He said this bond makes sense. That it was always meant to be you.” Her voice cracks. “But it’s wrong. It should’ve been me.”

I swallow hard. “Rachel-”

“I was meant to be with him,” she says, the words tumbling out now, raw and unfiltered. “You don’t understand. I’ve loved him for years. Years, Chey. Since we were kids.”

Something in my chest twists painfully.

“I do understand,” I say, the frustration finally cracking through the numbness. “I know you’ve been in love with him. It was never a secret to me.”

She blinks, clearly not expecting that. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it wasn’t my place,” I snap before I can stop myself. “And because I wanted you two to be together.”

Her mouth opens, then closes again.

“I wanted him to choose you,” I continue, the truth burning as it comes out. “I wanted you to get everything you thought tonight would give you. I wanted you to be happy.”

She stares at me, searching my face like she’s trying to decide whether I’m lying.

“But there’s nothing I can do about this,” I add, my voice tight. “I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it.”

Her expression hardens anyway.

“And Corey?” she asks suddenly. “What about him?”

Something inside me snaps clean in half.

“What about him?” I repeat, incredulous.

She steps closer, her voice low and sharp. “You can’t just pretend he doesn’t exist. This is fate, Cheyenne. This is how it works.”

A short, ugly laugh tears out of me. “I didn’t ask for this. I want Corey. Everyone knows that.”

Her eyes narrow. “Then why didn’t the moon goddess agree with you?”

That does it.

“Don’t,” I snap, anger flaring hot and fast. “Don’t you dare put this on me like I did something wrong. The moon goddess had different plans for us. That doesn’t mean I wanted them.”

She shakes her head, tears spilling freely now. “You always get chosen.”

“That’s bullshit,” I shout. “I lost everything last night.”

Her face twists with fury. “You lost nothing. You gained a future as the Alpha’s mate.”

The words hit like poison.

I stare at her, stunned, my chest aching. “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out,” I repeat, my voice shaking now. “I can’t do this with you right now.”

She glares at me like she hates me, like she doesn’t recognize me anymore. Then she turns and storms past me, slamming the door behind her hard enough to rattle the walls.

The sound echoes through the house, loud and final.

Silence crashes down again.

I stand there shaking, my hands curled into fists so tight my nails bite into my palms. Rage coils in my chest, ugly and overwhelming. At Rachel. At Landon. At my parents. At the goddess herself.

I can’t stay here.

I grab my shoes and bolt out the door before I can think better of it. The cool air hits my face, sharp and grounding. The woods call to me like they always have, dark and familiar and honest.

Trees don’t care who you’re mated to.

The forest doesn’t judge.

I run until the house disappears behind me, until the path dissolves into undergrowth and leaf litter and damp earth. Deep in the trees, where the ground softens and the scents grow richer, I finally stop.

My breathing is ragged. My chest burns.

My hands shake as I peel off my clothes, tossing them aside without care, letting them fall wherever they land. I don’t fold them. I don’t think about them.

Then I let go.

The shift hits hard.

Bones rearrange with a familiar, brutal pressure. Muscles stretch and re-form. Heat floods my veins, chasing out everything but instinct. The world sharpens in an instant, colors brighter, sounds clearer, smells layered and overwhelming. Fur ripples across my skin as my wolf takes over, powerful and furious and very much awake.

I take off running.

The forest blurs past as I tear through it, paws pounding against earth and leaf litter, muscles eating up the distance. Branches whip by. Wind roars in my ears. I run faster, harder, letting the anger burn through my limbs until it stops hurting so much.

My wolf is just as pissed as I am.

She hates Landon. Hates his scent. Hates the way the bond tried to latch onto us like a claim we never consented to. She snarls at the thought of him, teeth flashing even though he’s miles away.

But she’s furious at Rachel too.

Not jealous.

Not petty.

Betrayed.

We didn’t ask for this. Everyone knows that. Corey knows it. The pack knows it. Rachel knows it. And still, they look at us like we’re the problem.

My wolf throws her head back and howls, the sound ripping through the trees, raw and aching and full of rage. Birds scatter from nearby branches. The forest listens.

She wants blood. Wants to challenge. Wants to have a go at Landon and Rachel both, consequences be damned. I feel it in the way her muscles bunch, in the way her instincts scream for confrontation.

Eventually, I force her to slow. To circle back. To breathe.

We don’t want violence.

We want fairness.

And right now, the world is anything but fair.