When the Alpha Chose His Pack Over His Mate

Two years after the arranged mate bond, I was sent back, and my mate, Rowen Watson, wasted no time in handing me a rejection letter.

On the day I left, he stood silently to the side, his hands clasped behind his back, watching as I packed my belongings. His voice cut through the quiet, cold and detached.

“You’re gentle and capable, Ivy. This rejection won’t hinder your future. When you return from your travels, I’ll arrange a suitable mate for you…”

I nodded. “Alright.”

His hand twitched as I took the rejection letter and tucked it into my bag.

For many nights after, he would wake from nightmares, staring at my portrait and whispering, “Ivy, when will you come back?”

---

On the day I left, Rowen stood to the side, his Alpha aura subdued but still palpable. He watched as I folded the few clothes I owned and placed them into the same bag I had brought with me when I first arrived.

He stepped forward, his tone calm but distant. “There’s no need to rush. The escorting party won’t arrive for a few days.”

I wrapped a well-used pen in a cloth before looking up at him. “Today’s a good day for travel. I don’t have much to pack, so it won’t take long.”

It was too calm. Too smooth.

Unlike the messy separations in other packs, where Omegas were cast aside for petty reasons, my departure was as simple as a few words and a piece of paper.

I carefully wiped down a few old books and placed them in the corner of the bag, wondering if I had forgotten anything. I didn’t notice the two servants’ contracts clutched in Rowen’s hand.

After a long moment of hesitation, he finally stepped forward and offered them to me. “Take these two Omegas with you. They’re used to attending to you.”

I knew what he meant, but I simply smiled and declined. “They’ll have a better life here in the pack than with me on the road. Let them stay.”

He asked again, “Where are you planning to go?”

My voice was steady. “Perhaps I’ll return to my hometown first.”

He nodded. “That place is harsh. Visit your parents’ graves, then find somewhere else to settle.”

He paused, then added, “We were mates once. If you return to the city, seek out Zen. He’ll help you.”

I nodded. “Alright.”

But I knew I wouldn’t return to the city.

These gestures of goodwill were likely meaningless.

Life was unpredictable, full of gains and losses.

If it weren’t for that misunderstanding years ago, I might have already settled in that small, remote town.

There was nothing to regret.

Over the years, I had supported Rowen’s education and networking with the money I earned from my craftsmanship. Now, my skill with creating intricate designs had become my livelihood.

Whether it was detailed patterns or delicate color combinations, I had mastered it all.

With this skill, I wouldn’t starve, no matter where I