Page 61 of Claiming His Rejected Mate

Because she is my heart.

“Are you?” she asks, her tone skeptical. “Because if this is about guilt or duty or some twisted sense of obligation, you’ll only hurt her more. And if you hurt her again, Kieran, I won’t forgive you. I might not look it, but I can fight something mean.”

The memory of my rejection flashes through my mind, unbidden. Hazel’s face, pale and stricken, as I turned my back on her. The murmur of the crowd, the judgment in their eyes. And my own voice, cold and unyielding, delivering the words that shattered her.

I had convinced myself it was the right thing to do. That rejecting her was necessary to protect the pack, to maintain order. But now, looking back, I see the cracks in that justification.

I see the fear in her eyes when she looks at me, the anger that masks her vulnerability. And I see the person she used to be, the fire and determination that still flicker beneath the surface, waiting for a chance to reignite.

My wolf growls softly, his presence a steady reminder of the bond we share. Fix this. Make her ours.

“I will,” I whisper, the promise hanging heavy in the air.

“Good. She was made to lead. Her father was a dickhead that wouldn’t let her do anything. Don’t be more like him than you already are.”

I nod, and she leaves without another word.

Her words linger long after she has gone, the silence of the room pressing down on me like a physical weight I can’t escape.

She’s right. I know enough now to do something. To keep trying.

Hazel is a great warrior and was trained under Magnus, which means she has a kind of rare discipline and precision that none of my troops have. That also means she's been following orders all her life. I’ve never involved her in decision-making, and I know she should be a part of it, especially with regard to things involving her own life. I can't keep deciding things for her.

My wolf's words echo in my head. I have to let her come to me. I will respect her and ask her if that is what she wants, if she wants to be a part of what goes on in this pack, in what should be our pack.

But promises are nothing without action.

Hazel deserves more than words. She deserves someone who sees her for who she is, who values her for her strength, her resilience, her fire. And if I’m going to earn her trust, her forgiveness, I need to start showing her that I’m worthy of her.

No more excuses. No more half-measures.

This is my chance to make things right. And I won’t waste it.

She is my Luna and I will treat her with all the respect, love, tenderness, and patience she deserves.

Chapter 20

Hazel

The wind rushes past me as the horse gallops across the open field, carrying me away from the suffocating weight of the estate. The rhythmic pounding of hooves against the earth steadies my thoughts, giving me something solid to hold onto in the chaos of my mind.

I shouldn’t have agreed to this.

But when Kieran had appeared outside my room this morning, reins in hand, other than every fiber of my being wanting to melt into him against my will, something about the quiet determination in his eyes made it impossible to refuse.

“You need air,” he'd said simply, his voice low, unreadable. “And I need your mind.”

I almost laughed at the irony. For so long, he’d dismissed me, ignored my worth, put me last, and now he sought my counsel? I should have told him to go to hell. Should have sucker punched his gloriously beautiful face, spat at his feet and slammed the door. Instead, I find myself here, gripping the reins tightly as we cut through the dense forest, Kieran riding just a few paces behind me.

His presence is a steady pulse at my back, his scent—earth and storm—carried by the wind. It stirs something in my chest, something I don’t want to pay attention to. But my wolf’s excitement and happiness swell in my heart. It almost feels like she’s playing with his wolf. Under the seal, there’s not much she can do to bond with Kieran’s wolf. But this; it fills her heart with so much joy, and I know her tail has got to hurt from that much excited wagging.

I slow the horse as we approach a clearing, the trees thinning to reveal a stretch of rugged hills beyond. The air smells of damp soil and foliage, crisp and untamed. It reminds me of freedom. It’s bittersweet because I wonder if I will ever truly be free.

Kieran pulls up beside me, his dark hair tousled by the wind. He has taken off the shirt he had on earlier and tied it around his waist. My eyes linger on his torso. He’s all rock hard and defined rippling muscle as he works the reins. My heart races, and I bite my lip as my eyes eat his body right up. Then his face, which is adorned by that scar on his left eyebrow. And for the first time, I notice scars, spots, lines, that make up his handsome, angular face.

I catch myself staring. I groan and look away, trying to keep my wolf under control. I blame her for this, even though I know my body aches and is literally begging to have him.

He looks at me, his sharp blue eyes scanning my face as if searching for something. It makes my breath hitch, and I focus on calming my heartbeat. I’m sure he can hear it.

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