Rejected by My Alpha Mate

I signed the agreement to support the development of the frontier pack, and with it, I brought home the mate rejection papers. Meanwhile, Alistair Mills, the Alpha of the Shadow Fang Pack, was still at the infirmary, tending to Rosalie Jenkins, a Delta in his pack who was as fragile as a porcelain doll. Ever since she joined the pack, I’ve lost count of how many times Alistair has left me alone in our shared home.

“She’s my pack member; your needs can’t compare to hers.”

I decided it was time to give them space, so I chose to let go. A week should be enough.

---

I made my way to the infirmary, my steps heavy but determined. As I approached, I saw Alistair with Rosalie, who was getting her IV drip. They were chatting and laughing, their voices light and carefree, but the moment they noticed me, the room fell silent.

“Josephine, what are you doing here?” Alistair asked, his tone cool and dismissive.

Rosalie, just like her name, had skin as pale as snow, lying there like a tranquil porcelain doll. Right then, Alistair was gently feeding her chicken broth, his movements tender and deliberate.

“Of course, I’m sick,” I replied with a wry smile, hanging my drip on the rack nearby. “Why else would anyone come to the infirmary for fun?”

This scene was one I’d grown accustomed to. My face was pale, and I could barely stand upright. Eventually, Alistair set the soup aside and connected my medication.

“Thanks,” I said politely to the man who was once my mate. We’d been bonded for five years, with three of those in a cold war.

“Josephine, is your stomach still acting up?” Alistair frowned at me, but I didn’t reply.

“I’ve told you so many times not to skip meals. Is it my fault you ended up like this?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snapped. “I didn’t expect to run into you here, and you’re certainly not worth my blame.”

I stared out the window with indifference. My stomach issues were indeed due to skipping meals, back when Alistair and I were working hard together, building the pack. He used to hold me and whisper promises of care, his voice filled with genuine concern.

“I’m sorry, Josephine… It’s my fault. From now on, I’ll make sure you eat every meal.”

Back then, he truly cared about me.

“I don’t have time; can’t you take care of yourself? And apologize to Rosalie for your tone earlier.”

Alistair was unapologetic, his Alpha tone sharp and commanding. I was used to it.

“Alpha,” I said, emphasizing his title, “I’m not your subordinate, and I don’t take orders from you. I’m not apologizing. If you can’t stand it, switch rooms.”

I looked at him deeply, noting how he had changed. He was no longer the man from three years ago.

Alistair scoffed and turned to Rosalie, his voice softening.

“Rosalie, do you want to stay here? If not, I’ll talk to