Reborn to Reject My Fated Alpha Mate

Isabelle POV:

The Soul Tether pulsed, it held me suspended in the air, a phantom forced to watch the bodies of my family, my pack, were scattered like broken dolls.

Jalon, the man I had loved with the foolish, all-consuming passion of a girl who knew nothing of the world,two of his men dragged a woman before him. Catherine Wells, his aunt by marriage.

"Why, Jalon?" she sobbed, her voice cracking. "We took you in. We loved you like a son. Why?"

Jalon let out a soft, almost musical laugh.

"My name was never a gift, Catherine," he murmured, his voice a low caress that sent a tremor of ice through my soul. "It was a curse. And the Blackwoods, the Wells... you were the source of it."

He didn't explain further. He didn't need to. The casual cruelty in his tone was explanation enough.

"I have a blood debt to settle," he said, his voice barely a whisper above the roar of the flames. "And both your families are on the ledger."

He looked at Catherine. "Did you really think adopting me was an act of charity? You were just keeping a closer watch on a relic of your vengeance."

Catherine's face went slack with horror. "No... we treated you as our own."

Jalon shook his head slowly. He raised a hand, and one of his men handed him a silver dagger.

"I'll make this quick," he promised her, his voice gentle. "You did, at least, give me access to Isabelle Spears."

Hearing my name from his lips now was like a physical blow. My soul contracted, a knot of pure agony.

He didn't hesitate. The silver blade slid into Catherine's heart with a sickening wet sound. Blood sprayed across his impassive face, crimson drops on pale, perfect skin.

I was forced to watch. The Soul Tether seared me with a white-hot pain, a punishment for trying to look away. It wanted me to see every detail of his betrayal.

Jalon rose to his feet, wiping the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand. His gaze lifted, cutting through the smoke and flames, and found me. He saw me. He knew.

"I know you're watching, my love," he said to the empty air where I hung.

The words plunged me into a cold deeper than any death.

"This is my grand finale. For you," he continued, a terrifying tenderness in his voice. "With no family to bind you, no pack to distract you... you will belong only to me."

His men moved with brutal efficiency, dragging bodies into the flames. One of them approached Jalon, bowing his head. "All resistance has been eliminated, sir."

Jalon nodded, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. He looked up at me again, his expression softening into something that was a twisted mockery of love.

He reached a hand up, as if he could brush his fingers against my spectral cheek.

"Soon," he whispered, the promise hanging in the burning air. "We'll be together. Forever."

Just then, a spiderweb of cracks appeared on the surface of the Soul Tether. Its dark energy was failing. I felt my consciousness begin to fray at the edges, a strange sense of release washing over me.

With the last of my strength, I hurled a silent curse at him, a wave of pure, undiluted hatred.

He seemed to feel it. The corner of his mouth lifted into a breathtaking smile.

As my soul dissolved into a million points of light, I saw his lips form two words.

I love you, Isabelle.

Then, the Soul Tether shattered, and I fell into an endless, welcoming darkness.

The world came apart in an instant--not with violence, but with a terrible, weightless

unraveling. My soul disintegrated into motes of starlight, each fragment carrying the

memory of blood, of betrayal, of a love that had been nothing but a blade dressed in

silk. The red moonlight swallowed me whole.

Andthen-

Darkness. Silence. The long, hollow drop between one life and the next.

When sensation returned, it came in pieces. The scratch of linen against skin. The faint

scent of lavender sachets in a wardrobe drawer. Sunlight pressing warm against closed

eyelids.

I woke up gasping, my lungs burning as if I'd just inhaled a lungful of water. My eyes flew open. Sunlight streamed through the familiar lace curtains of my bedroom. The scent of lavender and clean linen filled the air, not smoke and blood. My hand flew to my chest. A steady, frantic heartbeat thumped against my palm.

Isabelle POV:

I scrambled out of bed and stumbled to the ornate, full-length mirror against the wall.

A girl stared back at me. A child.

Her face was mine, but younger, softer. The cheeks were full, the eyes wide and unburdened by the horrors I had just witnessed. Fourteen years old.

My breath hitched. I was alive. I was young.

This had to be a dream. Another torture devised by Jalon in the afterlife.

I dug my nails into the soft flesh of my arm. Pain, sharp and real, shot up to my shoulder. I gasped. It wasn't enough.

My bare feet padded across the cool, familiar grain of the hardwood floor. I shoved open the window, and the morning breeze, damp with dew and smelling of fresh-cut grass, washed over my face. It was real. The sun on my skin was real.

The crushing weight of it all-the fire, the betrayal, the impossible reality of this moment-sent a wave of nausea through me. I lurched into the adjoining washroom and retched into the basin, but nothing came up.

A soft knock came at my bedroom door. "Miss Isabelle? Are you alright?"

It was Lucy, my personal maid. Her voice, so full of life, sent another shock through me.

"I'm fine, Lucy," I managed to call out, my voice raspy. "Just a nightmare."

The door creaked open. Lucy bustled in, her kind face etched with concern as she took in my pale face and disheveled state.

"Oh, you poor thing," she clucked, her hands fluttering. "Don't you worry about some silly dream. A bit of fun will chase it right away! There's the summer gathering by the lake today. Everyone will be there!"

The lake.

The gathering.

My blood ran cold. I remembered this day with perfect, horrifying clarity. This was the day I had made a fool of myself, publicly and shamelessly fawning over Jalon Wells for the first time. The beginning of my end.

"No," I said, the word coming out sharper than I intended. "I'm not feeling well. I'm not going."

Lucy's face fell. "But Miss, the Matriarch Genevieve gave a direct order. All the young members of the pack must attend."

I had to get away from him. I couldn't see him. But I had no choice.

Dressed in a simple summer dress I barely remembered, I let Lucy lead me out of the manor and toward the lake. The grounds were alive with the excited chatter of other young wolves. Their conversation, carried on the breeze, revolved around one person.

Jalon Wells. The prodigy who had just bested every other warrior-in-training.

We arrived at the shore. A vibrant crowd was spread across the lush green lawn. My eyes, against my will, scanned the faces.

And then I saw him.

He was standing with my cousins, Aidan Blackwood and Julian Blackwood . He was sixteen, maybe seventeen. The cruel, sharp edges of the man he would become were not yet visible. He was just... beautiful. Tall, graceful, with an easy confidence that drew every eye.

A gasp for air caught in my throat. I felt like I was drowning all over again. I turned on my heel, ready to flee.

"Look, Miss, isn't it lovely!" Lucy chirped, oblivious to my terror. She grabbed my arm, trying to pull me toward the throng of people. "Let's go say hello!"

In her eagerness, her foot slipped on a patch of damp grass.

"Whoa!" she cried out, her body lurching backward. Her hand tightened on my arm like a vise, pulling me with her.

I twisted, trying to steady her, but my own balance was gone. The world tilted, a blur of green grass and blue sky.

A collective gasp rose from the crowd as I fell backward, a single, sharp scream tearing from my throat.

The icy shock of the lake water stole my breath.

Cold. Dark. Suffocating.I flailed, but my arms and legs felt like lead.

Shouts erupted from the shore.

Then, a splash. A powerful figure cut through the water, moving toward me with terrifying speed.

Through the murky blue, I saw his face.

Jalon Wells.

His arm, strong and unyielding, wrapped around my waist, pulling me upward. The moment his skin touched mine, a jolt, hot and electric, shot through every nerve in my body.

We broke the surface. I coughed, sputtering, as he held me tight against his chest.

A scent filled my senses, overwhelming and intoxicating. Cedar and wind. It was him.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a wild, frantic rhythm. My body, this stupid, traitorous body, trembled uncontrollably.

Isabelle POV:

The moment my feet touched the solid ground of the grassy bank, I shoved him hardly.Away from his touch, away from his scent, coughing up lake water and bile. The electric current that had coursed through me was gone, replaced by a chilling revulsion.

Jalon looked at me, a flicker of surprise in his storm-gray eyes.

A crowd was gathering around us, their whispers a low buzz. Their eyes darted between me, shivering and soaked, and Jalon, the hero of the moment. Among them, I spotted Julian, his dark eyes gleaming with undisguised curiosity. He stood slightly apart, watching the scene unfold with that unnerving stillness of his.

Jalon shrugged off his light jacket and moved to place it around my shoulders. I flinched, but he was stronger, his movements firm and unyielding. He wrapped the fabric around me,my soul sighed in contentment, a traitorous whisper in my own mind, while my stomach churned with disgust.

"Isabelle!"

Aidan's voice cut through the crowd. My cousin pushed his way to the front, his brow furrowed with worry. His eyes landed on me, then on the jacket I was wearing, and his expression tightened. "What happened?"

My mind raced. I couldn't tell them the truth. They wouldn't believe my hatred for Jalon. After years of my childish crush, they would only see this as a game, a desperate ploy for attention.

I had to sever this connection. Now. Publicly.

I grabbed Aidan's arm, my fingers digging into his bicep. My voice came out weak, trembling, but clear. "It was my fault... I was trying to catch Lucy. I slipped."

I took the blame, erasing any possibility that this was a planned encounter.

Beside me, Lucy, her face pale with fright, nodded vigorously. "Yes, it was me, I'm so sorry, Miss Isabelle, I'm so clumsy-"

I turned my most pathetic, pleading eyes on my cousin. "Aidan, I'm so cold. Can you please take me back to the manor?"

It was a deliberate choice. A public declaration. In my moment of distress, I was turning to my family, to a Blackwood, not to the outsider who had saved me.

Aidan's protective instincts kicked in immediately. "Of course, Belle." He bent to scoop me into his arms.

"She needs to get warm immediately," Jalon's low voice interjected. He took a step forward. "I can get her there faster." The possessiveness in his tone was unmistakable, a low thrum of Alpha dominance that made the hairs on my arms stand up.

My body went rigid.

Then, with a single, decisive movement, I ripped his jacket from my shoulders.The fabric, heavy with water, landed on the damp grass with a soft thud.

I lifted my chin, meeting Jalon's gaze for the first time. My voice was ice. "That won't be necessary, thank you, Mr. Wells. I'm not accustomed to accepting help from strangers."

Mr. Wells. The formal address was a slap in the face. A chasm opened between us.

The air grew thick, heavy with unspoken tension. Jalon's face, which had been a mask of polite concern, became something else entirely. It was a canvas of stone, his jaw tight, his eyes darkening to the color of a thunderhead.

His inner wolf was raging. I could feel it, a wave of fury and wounded pride rolling off him. His fated mate had just publicly, brutally, rejected him.

Aidan, stunned by my actions, recovered quickly. He shot a confused, apologetic glance at Jalon before lifting me into his arms.

I buried my face in Aidan's chest, a silent, final dismissal. I didn't look back.

As Aidan carried me away, his long strides eating up the distance, I knew Jalon's eyes were still on me. I could feel them burning into my back.