Reborn as the Unwanted Mate

INDY

If I ever mysteriously disappear, it won't be because of an ex-boyfriend or a serial killer. Although, the latter would be impossible. Despite living twenty-five whole years on this forsaken planet, I couldn't find the one for me just yet.

Not that I was complaining.

Humans are obnoxious. Plain and simple. We feel too much yet are somehow lacking empathy. We're a weird paradox that the Creator Himself probably finds scratching His head from time to time when looking down at us.

Exhibit A.

"Everly Rain, I hope your teeth rot for what you did to Clara," I muttered, reading as a new comment popped up on the latest chapter of my story.

"That's a new one," I chuckled. "They haven't come for my teeth before."

"Oh, here's another one."

"Are you seriously trying to make us feel bad for Lucinda? Girl, be for real. I'll find where you fucking live and make sure you-"

"Okay, that's enough," I said, shutting my laptop and closing my eyes. My temples were hurting from writing the entire day. Scratch that. I wrote some, deleted some, then wrote some, and deleted some more. It took me a groveling five hours to put out a single chapter, but the moment I uploaded it, the comments told me it was shit.

Let me explain something first.

I write werewolf books.

However, there's one teenie-weenie, minuscule, microscopic, not even slightly visible problem-I hate werewolf books.

I hate their rules and their pack dynamics. I also hate how some of the men can act like utter dogshit (pun intended) and still be forgiven in Chapter 36 because they suddenly "soften their voice" and "kiss her temple gently."

Yet, here I am. Six books in. Two under a pseudonym-Everly Rain. I wanted it to be entirely different from my real name-Indiana Sage, a name my mom gave me because I was born in Indiana. Creative, right?

The other four were under a ghost contract with some publishing house that treats me like a printer that occasionally bleeds. The current one I was writing had become my most successful one, 'The Wolf Prince and the White Rose.'

My latest crime was making Lucinda, the Wolf Prince's original mate, attack Clara, the ever-innocent protagonist. That attack was supposed to be the final blow before Lucinda's death. She had already been captured, detained, and tortured by the Alpha for all the atrocious things she had done.

However, just to keep readers on their toes, I decided to let Lucinda escape one more time before she was finally killed in the hands of the Wolf Prince himself.

The readers didn't like that, though.

I sighed once more, slumping on my worn-out seat as I removed the egg carton underneath my laptop. It was the only thing saving it from overheating. It was already late into the night, and the moon was high in the sky.

I glanced at the worn-out wall clock and saw that it was already 3 AM. I had to get up at 8 AM to go to my shift at the convenience store.

"Are you not going to sleep?"

I jolted in shock when Larissa, my roommate and best friend of seventeen years, spoke in a groggy voice.

I shook my head and smiled. "In a bit," I answered. "I'm thinking about how to appease my readers."

"Don't," she deadpanned. "All of the gods on this land know how hard you work for each chapter. Heck, you work hard in every aspect of your life, but you're never recognized for it. It's your story. As long as it isn't grammatically atrocious or absolutely unethical, I say that you should write what you want."

Running my fingers through my hair, I leaned back against the chair. "What I like to write doesn't sell at all, though. I need to write the way they want if I want to pay my bills on time."

"You can rely on me," she presented.

"I absolutely cannot."

She groaned in frustration. In truth, we have had this conversation plenty of times before. Although Larissa wasn't exactly well-off, she had a better job than mine. She worked as a receptionist at a hotel nearby, and her parents sometimes sent her an allowance when her funds were short.

Meanwhile, I had to drop out of college during my first year due to financial constraints. I worked a day shift in a convenience store, took up some photography gigs on the sidelines, and wrote my chapters in the evening.

"You have enough money, though," Larissa suddenly said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I turned to her, and she was already staring at me with a knowing look in her eyes.

I pursed my lips before sighing.

"It's because your mother always asks for your money," she deadpanned.

"You know how it is," I muttered. "It'll be a pain in the ass if I refuse her requests. At least, she still calls me twice a month to see how I'm doing."

"Yeah-to ask for money."

The silence that followed right after wasn't suffocating. It was just the plain truth.

"You've always placed others first. You give your mom money even if you don't have anything to eat. You let your first crush go because our other friend liked her. He clearly liked you at that time!"

"Larissa," I smiled. "That was back in first grade."

"Still," she sighed. "Point proven. You're the type of person who lights up the entire room, but your world itself is dim. I hope you can start living for yourself. At this point, you're going to die without getting to experience the world in liberation."

I couldn't speak after she said all of those words.

I knew that her words held some truth. However, it was easier said than done. My life wasn't meant to be simple the moment I was born.

My dad was an alcoholic and died of liver cirrhosis when I was 19. Suddenly, the role of the breadwinner was thrust into my hands, so I had to give up everything and work my ass off to pay the debts that my father left behind. I managed to pay it all off when I turned 23, but it seemed the world was unsatisfied because my mother incurred another debt.

The sound of my ringtone snapped me out of my thoughts, also breaking the suffocating silence that Larissa's statement left.

I looked at the caller ID and sighed right away.

"It's your mom again, right?" Larissa muttered. Then she shook her head. "Don't answer it. You've already downed way too many cups of coffee and energy drinks for her to ask for more money at this time of the month."

"Hey, Mom," I said, answering the phone, making Larissa sigh in disappointment.

She usually only called me twice a month, and she had already done so. Somehow, there was a small hope inside my chest that she would be calling to actually check up on me.

"Send me more money."

That hope was instantly shattered.

I pursed my lips and heard Larissa sigh from her side of the room.

"Mom, I already sent you some. I even sent you some extra because you said you got into an accident."

"Well, it's not nearly enough," she scoffed. Her background was a familiar pop song paired with numerous voices shouting in excitement, so I reckoned she was out in a club.

"You have that writing shit, right? You've always been good at that, so send me some money. I know you're not broke because you have three jobs."

I heard someone calling her over, and her voice changed into a sweet one-a tone she never used for me. Massaging the bridge of my nose, I grabbed my sixth bottle of coffee for the day and downed it in one go.

Then...

"No."

There was a slight pause on her end. It felt like even Larissa had stopped breathing for a moment.

"No?" she repeated.

"I don't have any money left to give you," I said, my hands trembling-whether from anxiety or the coffee, I didn't know. I felt lightheaded yet liberated at the same time. It was my first time saying no to her after all these years.

Again, my mom didn't respond for a couple of seconds before her laughter filled the small room.

"So, this is what I get for raising you my entire life. You know what? My future would have been bright if I hadn't gotten pregnant by your deadbeat father! You're my biggest mistake and yet you couldn't even spare some money for your mother."

"What a selfish daughter you are."

"You should have never existed."

At that moment, my vision became dotted with black circles, and I found my heart beating erratically inside my chest. I had been feeling like this for the last couple of days, but I hadn't gotten around to visiting the hospital.

Usually, it would halt when I didn't drink coffee, but recently, it attacked me at the most random parts of my day.

"Indy?" Larissa's voice broke through the haze; however, even then, I found myself slowly losing grip on the world as I knew it.

"Indy! What's happening?"

Her voice grew more frantic, but on my end, it felt like everything was turning more serene. The beating of my heart continued in short, rapid bursts, but I didn't find myself gasping for air anymore.

The black dots turned to white, and the ringing in my ears changed to the sound of nothingness.

With everything becoming more detached by the second, there was only one thought running through my mind.

Maybe I did drink too many cups of coffee.

INDY

The sensations came to me all at once. The moment everything cleared up, the first thing I saw was a massive descending staircase. Was this the stairway to heaven? Then, why was it going down? Don't tell me that every single sacrifice I made led me to the hellish afterlife!

However, as I looked around the place, I couldn't help but admire its design. Maybe I really was in heaven. The architecture was damn nice. Marble floors. Golden chandeliers. Velvet curtains that probably cost more than my entire apartment. A grand hall so big I was already thinking about the poor soul who has to mop this floor.

The house was stunning.

As I continued looking around the spacious manor, I suddenly saw a girl at the bottom of the stairs.

On her knees and bloody.

Wait, bloody?

My heart did a double take. My feet moved before I could even think. It felt like I had truly been reborn because my body wasn't as sluggish as before. Although, the dress I was wearing was quite uncomfortable. I hadn't gotten around to seeing what I was wearing just yet, but it was quite heavy.

I stumbled down the stairs, hands clutching the banister, until I was right in front of the girl. She looked up, and I was almost blinded by her beauty.

Holy hell, she's gorgeous.

Even with blood trickling down the side of her head, she looked like an angel hand-sculpted by every YA fantasy description ever. Long, golden blonde hair. Ocean-blue eyes. Skin so fair it was practically glowing.

"Whoa," I breathed out before I could stop myself.

Not the time, Indy.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, crouching down to her level. "What happened?"

Just then, she flinched and moved away from me, her back hitting the edge of the table. My eyes widened, and I stood, looking around to ask for help because it seemed she was too frightened.

However, my voice got caught in the back of my throat when I saw the type of people I was surrounded with. It seemed we were surrounded by maids and butlers. In fact, this woman was also wearing the same uniform as the ladies around here.

"Can someone help her, please?"

All of them turned to the side. None of them came forward. Instead, they were shaking-trembling, even. Along with that, they were looking at me like I was the Grim Reaper himself.

Just then, the beautiful girl spoke again. "Lady," she whispered. "Please. I didn't do anything wrong. Please don't do this to me."

I walked closer to her to see if the bleeding had made her hallucinate into thinking I was going to hurt her. However, she flinched once more.

Right on time, a deep voice echoed across the hall. "Clara!"

I turned and saw a man, a very tall one, with eyes that looked CGI-rendered. He had long, dark hair tied back in a half ponytail, and he looked out of this world.

He rushed to the girl-Clara, I guess-and dropped to his knees beside her. His eyes burned holes through me.

"What did you do to her?" he growled.

"Sorry," I said, stepping back. "I was just trying to help. I think she hit her head pretty hard."

He scoffed, shaking his head, appearing to be unamused.

"Don't play innocent, Lucinda."

That name made me pause for a moment. Lucinda?

He helped Clara stand, careful like she was made of glass. She collapsed into his arms, and I watched as he glared at me again.

"Alpha Lucio," Clara croaked. "I-I'm fine. Really."

"Lucio?" I echoed, eyes snapping to him.

His jaw clenched as he held onto Clara tighter. "That's Alpha Lucio for you. Don't act like we're close."

"Just wait until Rome hears about this."

He said those words with so much disdain that I found myself swallowing instinctively. However, much more than that, I thoroughly observed everything around me. Just then, I realized that the similarities were uncanny.

The names they'd mentioned also echoed in my mind.

Clara.

Lucio.

Rome.

Lucinda.

Suddenly, I was hyper-aware of the way everyone was looking at me. Their hatred. Their suspicion. The way they averted their eyes whenever I met them. I spun around, taking in the setting again. That staircase. The paintings on the ceiling!

It hit me just this time.

This was my book-The Wolf Prince and the White Rose.

This couldn't be real.

I was dreaming. Yeah. I must be! Maybe the caffeine and the sleep deprivation had gotten to me, and I slipped into a coma and right into this dream.

Yep. That has to be it.

I couldn't be in the same werewolf story I swore I would burn in a pit if I ever saw it in physical print. However, as I glanced around, it became more and more apparent. I was in my own nightmare. A werewolf world I built from the ground up-not out of love, but out of financial need and capitalist desperation.

The story of a lowly omega girl with no mate and no other options-Clara Saint. At 22 years old, she was left on her own and was compelled to take care of her two younger brothers. With that, she left everything behind and took a job as a housemaid in the royal household.

Where, of course, she somehow captured the attention of not one, but three Alphas.

One of them was the heir to the throne of Algard-Romanov Maximillian Percivel Windsor. What a mouthful. He was cold and always rational, but Clara managed to melt his icy heart. And I, Lady Lucindabella Valeska Pendragon (another mouthful), was Rome's mate, a.k.a. Clara's living nightmare.

I looked back down at the trembling, angelic mess that was Clara. If I remembered this chapter correctly, I wrote that Lucinda shoved Clara down the grand staircase after seeing Rome taking her out to dinner.

It was born out of the fact that Rome never invited Lucinda out unless she forced him to. That also meant that, at this point of the story, Lucinda's atrocities were already profound. She had thrown water at Clara's face, treated servants like garbage, and was absolutely obsessed with Rome.

Fuck. Even Clara's necklace that she inherited from her grandmother, the only family she had left before the latter died, was thrown into the fire!

"This can't be," I muttered to myself. I closed my eyes, pinching myself to wake up from this dream-no, from this nightmare.

Suddenly, like the world itself was cementing my fate, the massive doors at the end of the hall creaked open. A hush fell over the room like a wet blanket of dread. Everyone stiffened as he walked in.

Alpha Romanov Maximillian Percivel Windsor.

Tall. Cold. Regal.

His dark hair fell over his brow. His eyes scanned the room slowly, like a predator. He was even more handsome than I had imagined. However, that thought was quickly thrown out of the door when he began making his way toward us.

The crowd parted as he strode forward.

Clara gasped in Lucio's arms. "Alpha Rome..."

INDY

The first thing Rome did was gently grab Clara and pull her into his arms. Lucio straightened and cleared his throat, turning to the side and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Rome inspected Clara's wound carefully before turning to me with a sharp glare. I had the urge to raise both hands to claim my innocence, but I couldn't even do that. I-this character-had done this to Clara.

"Lucio," he started off, his voice deeper than what I had imagined. No wonder he was the most wanted man in this country. I shook my head. I was getting distracted again.

"Take Clara to the hospital."

"Yes, brother," Lucio said, bowing his head slightly.

Clara tried to counter his request. "It's really alright, Alpha. Lady Lucindabella didn't mean to do-"

Rome cut her right away. "No arguments."

Lucio took Clara's arm and pulled her in the direction of the clinic, glaring at me one last time.

Goodness, I may get cooked alive with how heated all of these people were staring at me-especially Rome. As soon as Clara was out of the room, his eyes stayed on me, burning. I looked around, evading his gaze. However, it was near impossible to ignore. His eyes were really piercing.

Curse me for writing him to be so handsome!

"Everyone... leave."

There was a collective gasp heard inside the manor, one of them including mine. I didn't even realize I had done so. Rome truly had the aura of the main character.

Everyone scrambled, looking to be both satisfied and fearful at the same time.

Heck, I wrote this character from the inside and out, and he, too, was scaring me!

I turned around, preparing to bolt although I didn't know where, when I felt a strong hold on my arm. I flinched in pain and tried to jerk my arm away from his hold. However, it was no use. He pinned me down with a single hand and pulled me closer to him.

I could see his face more clearly from this angle, and I really did write him to be my ideal man in terms of looks. I tried to evade his gaze, but he held onto my chin with his free hand and forced me to look into his eyes.

It was the gaze of a man who loathed me.

"What did you do this time?"

I opened my mouth to argue it wasn't me, but I couldn't even do that. I knew that I was the one who did it even though I technically did not.

"I know this might sound crazy-"

He scoffed, not letting me finish. "You can give me all the reasons in the world, but I still wouldn't believe you. Just because I went to another city for some business, you think I didn't hear about what you've been doing to Clara?"

I followed his words inside my head. He really spoke just as I wrote him to say.

"That was because you invited her to dinner! You've never invited me. Don't think that I didn't see you kiss her right after! She deserves everything I'm doing to her!"

Fuck.

I covered my mouth once I realized those words came from me. I wasn't even aware of it. It seemed that this universe wanted to follow the script at all costs.

His eyes darkened as his disdain increased further.

"Is that so?"

He chuckled without humor, pulling me even closer to him until his lips were just a breath against mine. I couldn't breathe properly, but even then, the minty scent of his hot breath filled my senses.

"You've always tormented me for my kiss," he continued. "Is that all you want in order to leave me alone?"

My eyes widened. Right-I nearly forgot. This was the part where Rome finally kisses Lucinda to appease her obsessions. It was the scene right before asking her to break off the engagement, but Lucinda becomes even more obsessed right after and does everything within her power to stay with Rome!

I needed to stop this before it happened.

However, before I could even react, I felt heat against my lips-a rough, wet sensation that left me gasping for air. My eyes widened even more before they closed when he held tighter onto my jaw.

Rome kissed me fervently, and although all I could feel was hatred, the sparks that went through my body were also undeniable. I had been kissed in my older body, but it never felt like this. I guess the mate bond really doesn't lie.

It felt so good that I found myself letting out a small sound against his lips despite my reluctance. He deepened the kiss even more, massaging my tongue with his, making me release another moan.

"Rome," I said his name unconsciously.

With my utterance, he pushed me away, making me feel more lightheaded than I already was. I couldn't comprehend anything for a couple of seconds, so I merely looked at his lips, which were red and bitten. However, the moment I looked into his eyes, I snapped back to reality.

"You finally got your long-awaited kiss," he smirked. "That's what you wanted all along, right?"

"Now, stop holding onto me."

I looked down and saw that I was still holding onto his collar. I was about to pull away, but he didn't give me the opportunity to do so. He pushed my shoulder forcefully until I fell ass-first to the ground.

"Ouch," I muttered, looking up at him.

"That's just a fraction of what you did to Clara. I have been enduring until now because you are my mate, and we have been arranged by your father and mine. However, at this point, I cannot lie anymore."

"I loathe you with all of my heart, and I will gladly die first rather than marry you in this lifetime."

I felt a sharp ache inside my chest despite only having personally known this man for a couple of minutes. I clutched my chest, right where my heart was, and felt heat rise in the back of my eyes. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried my hardest not to cry.

Gosh. This mate bond was truly a pain in the ass. It was forcing me to feel things I didn't even feel!

"You have stopped every attempt to break off this engagement, but this time, I'll make sure you won't succeed."

He stepped closer and kneeled down, looking deep into my eyes, causing a tear to fall from my own.

"If I could reject you at this moment, I would."