After My Mate Chose Her, I Chose Freedom

Pain pulled me from the darkness like claws dragging through my ribs.

I blinked against the sterile white light of Silverfang's healing wing, my throat dry as sand. The antiseptic smell burned my nose, mixing with the lingering copper scent of my own blood. Bandages wrapped tight around my torso, from my ribs down to my hip where the rogue's claws had torn me open during yesterday's border attack.

My wolf stirred weakly inside me, a shadow of what she should be. Eight years since I'd given half my essence to save a dying boy, and she still felt like an echo of herself. The other pack members sensed it too — the diminished aura that marked me as somehow less than worthy of an Alpha's attention.

I reached instinctively for Christian through our mind-link, the way I had every morning for eight years. The connection that should have been warm and welcoming hit a solid wall instead.

Blocked. Deliberately.

My chest tightened, but I forced myself to breathe slowly. He was managing the aftermath of the attack. That was all. It had to be. I'd been telling myself that for so long, the lie felt like truth.

The door to my room was cracked open just enough for voices to drift through. My enhanced hearing — one of the few abilities that hadn't been weakened by my damaged wolf — caught every word.

"She's the only compatible donor we have." Christian's voice, low and urgent. My heart clenched at the familiar rumble that used to make me feel safe.

"Alpha, the procedure is extremely dangerous," the pack healer replied, his tone careful. "She's already operating on reduced wolf essence from... well, from whatever happened to her years ago. Another transfusion could—"

"Could what?" Christian's voice sharpened with Alpha authority.

"Could kill her wolf entirely. Maybe kill her too."

My fingers gripped the sheets until my knuckles went white. They were talking about me. About using me.

"Liliana is dying," Christian said, and something in his voice made my stomach drop. "Her mother saved my life when I was sixteen. I owe her daughter everything."

Liliana Mitchell. The she-wolf who'd arrived from some European pack three weeks ago, all fragile beauty and mysterious illness. The woman Christian had been spending more and more time with, canceling our evening runs and blocking me from his thoughts.

"Prepare the paperwork," Christian continued. "I'll handle Jade personally. She'll consent."

"Alpha, if I may... how can you be certain?"

A pause. Then Christian's voice, cold and calculated in a way that made my wolf whimper: "Because I'm going to offer her what she's wanted for eight years. The Mate Ceremony. My mark. She'll agree to the transfusion in exchange for becoming my true Luna."

The world tilted sideways.

Eight years. Eight years of devotion, of standing by his side unmarked while other pack members whispered about my worthiness. Eight years of telling myself he just needed more time, that pack duties came first, that