Don't Mark Me

It's the Werewolves' Hunting Festival today. It's been three months since I found my mate.

During the festival, male werewolves will give the prey they've hunted to their mates. It's a way to show their strength and love for their mates.

However, my mate, Chris Ashwood, tells me to give up on him and pick another mate, seeing as there are so many other outstanding Alphas around.

I nod calmly and agree.

In my past life, I disagreed and insisted on marrying him. However, he didn't mark me after we got married. In fact, he was stargazing in the desert with his true love when I was shot by a bounty hunter and gravely injured.

Perhaps this is just a game of heart-hunting that should never have begun.

It was the day of the Werewolves' Hunting Festival. I found my mate three months prior.

During the festival, the male werewolves presented their captured prey to their mates as a display of their strength and devotion.

But my mate, Chris Ashwood, looked at me and said, "There are so many outstanding Alphas here. Why don't you just give up on me and choose someone else?"

I nodded calmly. "Alright."

Chris froze when I agreed without hesitation. He clearly didn't expect such an indifferent response. His hand, which was loading his hunting rifle, came to an abrupt stop.

He raised his gaze to look at me, his expression unreadable. "Fiora Wilson, did you hear what I just said?"

I met his eyes and nodded sincerely. "I heard you."

A bullet slipped through his fingers, falling to the ground with a dull thud. His expression was one of pure confusion.

In my previous life, when Chris said those words to me, I burst into tears, sobbing pitifully. I even threatened him, saying, "If you dare betray me, I will have my brother banish you from Darkwood Pack!"

My brother, Lucian Wilson, was the Alpha of Darkwood Pack. Chris was his Beta. Under Lucian's pressure, Chris eventually married me.

But in this life, his cruel suggestion no longer stirred any emotions in me.

Chris stared at me in disbelief, as if he wanted to say something more.

"Fiora—"

Before he could finish, the gunshot signaling the start of the hunt rang out. Warriors from every pack rushed into the forest-covered mountains.

An hour later, Chris returned with his catch.

"This is for you," he said, tossing the prey at my feet.

It was a small rabbit. Blood still dripped from its soft fur, but I felt nothing.

He knew. He knew I loved rabbits. I even kept one as a pet. Yet, he chose this childish and cruel way to express his dissatisfaction.

"Thank you," I said coldly. "Take me home." I didn't bother picking up the prey. Without another word, I turned and walked toward the car.

Just then, a scream pierced through the forest.

"Kaia was attacked by a black bear!" someone shouted. The moment the words were spoken, Chris was already