The Alpha's Regret: Chasing His Runaway Mate

"Put it on," my stepbrother Brendan commanded, his eyes cold.

He was forcing me to wear the silver bracelet his fiancée, Chloie, had bought to mock me.

"It will burn me," I pleaded, clutching my wrist.

"Stop acting like a fragile human," he snapped, his Alpha tone vibrating through the room. "Do not be ungrateful to your future Luna. Build a tolerance."

Under the weight of his command, my trembling hands clasped the metal.

The smell of singed hair and cooking skin filled the air immediately as the silver seared a ring into my flesh.

Brendan watched my agony without a flicker of remorse, then turned to leave with Chloie, leaving me sobbing on the floor.

He was my fated Mate, the boy who once took a dagger for me, but now he called me a "defect" because I hadn't shifted.

He destroyed my childhood treasures in a trash compactor, paraded his lover in front of me, and told the pack I was a diluted bloodline who would break under pressure.

He thought I was trapped, a weak Omega with nowhere to go.

He thought I would stay and watch him marry another woman in three days.

But he didn't know I had a secret burner phone hidden under the floorboards.

Or that my biological father, the Alpha King of the rival Sunfire Pack, was sending a private jet for me.

On the night of the Blood Moon, right before he was crowned King, I didn't just run away.

I mentally grabbed the silver cord connecting our souls and snapped it.

When the crushing pain of the severed bond hit him in the middle of his speech, he finally looked for me.

But I was already gone, ready to awaken the legendary White Wolf he never deserved.

Chapter 1

Jayde POV:

The shears were heavy, the steel biting into my palm like ice. It matched the temperature of my bedroom, and the dead look in his eyes whenever we crossed paths.

I looked at my reflection. Waist-length hair. Brendan used to say it made me look like a "proper lady" of the Moonstone Pack, distinguishing me from the wild strays we hunted.

I inhaled sharply. My hands shook, but my gut was solid stone.

Snip.

The first lock hit the floor. A soft, dark casualty.

Snip. Snip.

With every cut, the scent of this house-pine, floor wax, and him-fell away. I was carving the Moonstone Pack out of my identity.

Eighteen days until the Alpha Succession. Eighteen days until Brendan Maynard became King. And eighteen days until I became a ghost.

I dropped the scissors. My hair barely brushed my shoulders now. I didn't look like a lady anymore. I looked like a survivor.

I dug out the burner phone-a cheap piece of plastic I'd snagged from a human gas station three towns over. I dialed the encrypted number.

"Speak." The voice on the other end sounded like granite grinding against a tombstone.

"It's me," I whispered. "Jayde."

The silence stretched, heavy and thick. Then, the voice softened, though the storm inside it remained. "Jayde. My daughter."

Farrell Conner. Alpha King of the Sunfire Pack. My biological father.

"Transfer approved," I said, gripping the phone until the plastic creaked. "The University in Sunfire territory took me."

"Good. You're a diamond in a pile of gravel over there, Jayde. They're too blind to see the shine."

"I'm leaving, Dad. I can't watch him become Alpha. I can't be his... his unwanted burden."

"You aren't a burden," Farrell growled, the bass vibrating through the speaker. "You are Sunfire blood. You have power sleeping inside you that Brendan Maynard couldn't dream of. When do you move?"

"The night before the ceremony. During the full moon. The chaos will cover my scent."

"My jet will be at the private strip on the border. Stay low, little wolf."

I stashed the phone under a loose floorboard. My pulse was hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I needed water.

The hallway usually smelled of lemon polish. Today, it reeked of Alpha. It was a heavy, static pressure, thickening the air like humidity before a tornado. It was coming from the study.

I knew better than to look. But my feet betrayed me.

The door was ajar.

"The union must be finalized before the coronation, Brendan," an Elder rasped. "The pack needs a Luna. A strong Luna."

I peeked through the crack.

Brendan sat behind the mahogany desk, looking every inch the predator he was born to be. Shoulders straining his black dress shirt, jaw sharp enough to cut glass. He looked exhausted. He looked lethal.

"I know the laws, Elder," Brendan said, his baritone vibrating in my chest. "Chloie and I will handle it."

My Inner Wolf lifted her head from the dirt. She usually played dead, beaten down by years of neglect, but around him? She was pathetic.

Mate, she whimpered. Mate is strong.

He's not our mate, I snapped back mentally. He rejected us in everything but ink.

Brendan flinched. His stormy grey eyes flashed gold for a split second.

He was getting a Mind-Link.

His expression shifted. The hard lines of his face melted into something soft, something painfully gentle.

"Of course," he said aloud. "Come in, Chloie."

The name hit me like a gut punch.

Chloie Ellis. The Beta's daughter. She breezed past me without a glance, pushing the door wide.

"Bren," she purred, perching on the edge of his desk like she owned it, fingers tracing his bicep.

The crushing Alpha pressure in the room vanished. He reeled it in instantly, wrapping it around himself so it wouldn't graze her skin.

My wolf howled in agony.

Flashback: I was ten. Three Rogues cornered me. Brendan, fifteen and unshifted, threw himself in front of me with a silver dagger. He took a claw to the chest. He bled for me.

You are safe, Jayde, he had whispered.

That was the lie I fell in love with.

Then came my seventeenth birthday. The day the bond should have snapped into place. I ran to him, burning with it.

He had grabbed my wrists, eyes flashing. Stop! You are my stepsister. You are a weak Omega who can't even shift. Do not confuse a childhood crush with the sacred bond.

I blinked the memory away.

In the study, Chloie leaned down. A fresh, angry red mark sat on Brendan's neck. A hickey. Or a test bite.

Bile rose in my throat. The thin, fragile thread I had been holding onto finally snapped.

I didn't need a ceremony. I didn't need a crowd.

"Goodbye, Brendan," I mouthed.

I turned away. I didn't feel the crushing weight of his presence anymore. I just felt... hollow.

Jayde POV:

Fifteen days.

Every morning, I slashed a red X through the calendar. It looked like a wound.

My room was a graveyard of cardboard boxes.

I picked up a grey hoodie. Brendan's old lacrosse gear. He gave it to me when I had the flu three years ago.

I buried my nose in it. Rainwater. Pine. And the deep, musky scent of a powerful male.

Keep it, my wolf begged. Smells like Home.

"No," I whispered. "It smells like a lie."

I shoved it into a heavy-duty hunter's bag-the kind meant to mask raw meat-and sealed it. Double-bagged. I had to quarantine his scent.

I turned to my journal.

Entry 45: Brendan showed me how to breathe today...

Entry 102: He gave me the last pancake.

Pathetic. A record of a girl haunting a man who didn't exist.

I tossed the journal into the metal trash can and struck a match. The paper curled, words turning to ash.

A knock made me jump.

"Jayde?"

I kicked the trash can into the closet.

Chloie Ellis stood in the doorway, wearing a smile that didn't reach her calculating blue eyes.

"Gift for you," she said, holding a velvet box. "Since I'm moving into the master suite, wanted to clear the air."

She pushed past me, wrinkling her nose at the boxes. "Going somewhere?"

"Donating old junk," I lied.

"Charitable." She popped the box open. A delicate bracelet.

Silver.

Pure, gleaming, wolf-burning silver.

"Designer piece," Chloie said, her voice dripping with fake sugar. "I know you have... trouble with your wolf side. Since you can't shift, maybe you won't be as sensitive. It would look cute on your pale wrist."

She knew exactly what she was doing. It was a power play.

"I can't wear that, Chloie."

"Nonsense."

Brendan appeared in the doorway, sweat glistening on his collarbone from a workout. His scent hit me like a physical blow.

"What is this?"

"Friendship bracelet," Chloie pouted. "But she's refusing it."

Brendan looked at the silver, then at me. His eyes were cold, devoid of the warmth he reserved for her.

"Put it on, Jayde."

My blood ran cold. "Brendan, it's silver."

"I know what it is," he said, his voice dropping into that command tone that made my knees water. "You need to toughen up. You act like a fragile human. Build a tolerance. Stop flinching at jewelry."

"It will burn me."

"Quit acting like it's kryptonite," he snapped. "Do not be ungrateful to your future Luna. Put. It. On."

The Alpha Command slammed into me. My hand moved against my will.

I clasped the cold metal around my wrist.

Ssssss.

Like bacon hitting a hot skillet.

White-hot agony seared a ring into my flesh. The smell of singed hair and cooking skin wafted up.

I bit my lip until I tasted copper.

"See?" Chloie clapped. "Beautiful."

Brendan watched. For a micro-second, his nostrils flared as he smelled my pain. A flicker of regret? Maybe. But then he looked at Chloie's beaming face, and the wall slammed back down.

"Thanks," I choked out.

"You're welcome." Chloie grabbed his arm. "Come on, Bren. Wedding colors."

The second they were gone, I ripped the bracelet off and hurled it across the room.

A red, blistered welt circled my wrist.

He hurt us, my wolf cried.

"He's a monster," I sobbed into the silence.

Jayde POV:

The walls were thick, but wolf hearing is a curse.

I spent the night listening to the master suite down the hall. Giggles. The heavy thud of the mattress. The sounds of him loving her.

I buried my head under two pillows and hummed until my throat hurt.

Morning came. I felt like a ghost haunting my own life.

I went for coffee. Black. Like my mood.

Chloie walked in wearing nothing but Brendan's shirt. It hung to her mid-thighs.

"Morning, Jayde," she yawned, stretching like a well-fed cat. "Storm was loud last night, huh?"

She knew.

"Slept like a log," I deadpanned.

Brendan walked in, buttoning his shirt, radiating fresh energy.

"I need the itinerary," Chloie said, hopping onto the counter.

"Front and center," Brendan said, grabbing an apple. He avoided my eyes.

I gripped my mug. "I need to go to the admin office. Renew my travel permit."

Brendan finally looked at me, his gaze snagging on the leather cuff covering my burn. He frowned. "Why?"

"Just in case."

"Don't go near the neutral zones," Brendan warned. "Rogue activity is up. I can't spare warriors to fetch a single wolf right before the coronation."

Translation: You aren't worth the effort.

"I know how to run," I said.

"That's all you know how to do," Chloie muttered. "Maybe find a nice Beta boy while you're out. Someone... safe. Someone who doesn't need a real wolf."

The temperature in the kitchen plummeted.

Brendan stopped chewing. A low growl vibrated in his chest-involuntary, possessive.

"She doesn't need a mate," he snapped. "She needs to focus on her duties."

"Just saying," Chloie shrugged. "Tick tock."

I slammed my mug down. "I'm going."

I walked into the pouring rain. I needed it to wash the smell of that kitchen off me.

I reached the town square. The massive digital Pack Bulletin Board was flashing.

OFFICIAL ANNOUNCEMENT

Brendan and Chloie. Looking regal. Looking in love.

Date: The Night of the Blood Moon.

My leaving date.

My phone buzzed. Then my head started to ring.

Congratulations, Alpha!

Long live the Luna!

The Mind-Link. The pack was pouring their joy into the collective web. It was a cacophony of happiness that felt like nails on a chalkboard.

Jayde?

Brendan's voice cut through the noise.

Jayde, where are you? You're blocking your location.

I closed my eyes. I visualized the silver cord connecting me to the pack.

And I severed it.

I built a mental brick wall. I shut them out. I shut him out.

The silence was sudden and absolute.

I wish you happiness, Alpha, I whispered to the rain. Because you destroyed mine.