Rejected Mate's Silent Vow

The day of the rejection, I left with nothing but my medals.

Alpha Caden was as indifferent as ever. He barely glanced up at me, his broad shoulders framed by the dim light of the pack hall, and asked, "What about our son? No more dreams of him becoming a champion warrior?"

I managed a wry smile and shook my head. "No, he doesn’t want that life, and there’s no point in pushing him."

I couldn’t erase the memory of our son, Wilson, angrily shoving me away, yelling, "All you ever do is make me train! I don’t want you as my mom anymore; I want Aunt Arya!"

Since neither of them wanted my love or my skills, I decided to take them away.

==============================

"Are you serious?"

Alpha Caden tapped the black-and-white rejection papers, looking up at me with the calm demeanor that first attracted me to him.

Back then, his composure was captivating. In my line of work as a Gamma warrior, I was always too competitive, so meeting someone unflappable drew me in.

But now, after seven years of being mates and a six-year-old son, Alpha Caden was still the epitome of calmness and detachment.

I nodded. "Yes, I’m serious."

Alpha Caden furrowed his brows slightly. "What about our son? No more dreams of him becoming a champion warrior?" He mentioned Wilson with a hint of surprise.

I gave a slight smile and shook my head. "No, he doesn’t want that, and there’s no point forcing him."

"So, with the rejection, you don’t want our son either?"

Alpha Caden’s tone took a deeper edge, hinting at displeasure beneath his calm facade.

I raised an eyebrow and chuckled lightly. "Alpha Caden, even if you were willing to give up custody, the Silverclaw Pack wouldn’t agree, so there’s no need to suggest it."

My voice was straightforward and sharp, possibly grating to his ears, but I didn’t care. My intentions were clear—custody of Wilson was not in my plans.

Alpha Caden’s frown deepened, and after some silence, he said, "You know there’s nothing between Arya and me. She’s just a healer in the pack."

His typically cool voice had a subtle undertone of something harder to define. I found myself looking at him.

First, his mention of Arya caught me off guard. Second, I was surprised he felt the need to justify himself to me.

Maybe he thought Arya was the reason for my decision to reject the bond. I had found Arya’s presence bothersome before, after all.

I remember last month on our anniversary as mates. I had spent the day preparing a table laden with dishes, eagerly awaiting both him and our son. They didn’t come home until late that night, full and satisfied.

I sat there, wondering how many times I’d reheated the food, which went cold once more, as I pondered the purpose of our bond.

But when I heard the commotion at the door, instinct overpowered reason, and I rushed to open it.

Instead