Chapter 4

Hazel's Point of View

"Mate."

The word hangs heavy in the air between us, thick with meaning, thick with something I cannot acknowledge. My breath catches in my throat as I instinctively raise my hands in surrender, palms up, a silent plea for him to stay back.

I take a careful step backwards, my heart pounding in my chest. The man who just burst into my home is not just any werewolf, he is him. The dark brown wolf from the clearing. The one who tried to stop me. The one who's pack has been haunting me for months now.

"Please don’t hurt me," I say, my voice softer than I intend, laced with exhaustion. "I promise it’s not as it seems. I never wanted any of this."

His eyes darken, piercing green flickering with something unreadable as he steps towards me. My body tenses. He is huge, his presence overwhelming in my small cottage. He moves like a predator, each step controlled, deliberate.

"Then explain it to me," he demands, his voice low and firm. "Why were you willing to break the curse for Zachary? And why did you take the stone with you when you fled?"

I swallow hard. I knew this confrontation was coming, but now that I am standing in front of him, it feels too soon. Too real.

Slowly, I lower my hands, my fingers curling slightly at my sides. I force myself to hold his gaze.

"I thought all wolves wanted the curse broken," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "I never realized... I never knew a blood sacrifice was needed."

His jaw clenches, but he says nothing, so I press on.

"I tried to fix it on my own," I continue, my words spilling out now, desperate for him to believe me. "I spent months searching for a loophole, searching for another way. Three months ago, I thought I had found it. I tried to break the curse without blood, but... something went wrong."

I exhale shakily, the weight of my failure pressing down on me.

"I don’t even know what I did," I admit, my voice cracking slightly. "I just want to go back to my normal life."

He shakes his head, confusion flickering across his features. His eyes search mine, as if trying to pull the truth from them.

"What are you talking about?" he asks, his voice edged with frustration.

I bite my lip, my stomach twisting. Because the truth is, I don’t even fully know.

I take a deep, steadying breath, trying to gather my thoughts as I meet his gaze. His green eyes are sharp, intense, like he’s peeling back my layers, searching for any sign of deceit.

"I was cast out from my coven," I begin again, my voice softer this time, laced with exhaustion. "I thought that by breaking the curse, I could prove myself to them. I never realized there was a blood sacrifice involved."

I watch his expression carefully, but he remains unreadable, his stance tense, unmoving.

"I tried to fix it," I continue, pushing through the lump in my throat. "I didn’t want your pack coming after me, but I knew I needed the stone if I had any hope of breaking the curse another way. Three months ago, I thought I had found a loophole. I performed a spell, but..." I shake my head, frustration creeping into my voice. "It didn’t work. It didn’t break the curse."

The weight of my failure presses down on me, my shoulders sagging slightly. "I’ve been searching for answers ever since, but I still don’t know what went wrong." I meet his gaze again, willing him to believe me. "I promise you, I am not a threat to you or your pack. I just want to return to my life and leave the supernatural world behind."

He stays silent, his gaze unwavering as he studies me, searching for something. His jaw tightens slightly, and I can see the flicker of doubt in his eyes before he finally speaks.

"How do I know you’re telling the truth?"

I hesitate, my mind racing for a way to prove myself. Then, my eyes fall on my bag, still lying on the floor where I left it, and an idea strikes me.

"What if I gave you the stone?" I say suddenly, my voice stronger now. "No one can attempt to break the curse without it."

His eyes narrow slightly, his body tensing as I bend down, slowly reaching into my bag. My fingers close around the smooth surface of the stone, the energy within it still pulsing faintly beneath my fingertips.

I don’t take my eyes off him as I pull it out, holding it carefully in my palm.

Then, with a quick flick of my wrist, I toss it towards him.

He catches it with ease, his reflexes sharp, his fingers curling around the stone as he inspects it. A muscle feathers in his jaw as he turns it over in his hands, feeling the weight of it, the significance.

A long silence stretches between us before he finally exhales and slips the stone into his back pocket.

I don’t know what that means, if I’ve earned his trust, or if this is just the beginning of another battle, but at least now, the stone is out of my hands.

His words hit me like a slap.

"You said you performed a spell three months ago, but it didn’t go as planned. It affected Nicole, my Luna. She doubled over in pain and had a vision of you in a cave. What did you do?"

I swallow hard, guilt twisting in my chest. "I found a spell," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "It required the same stone but no blood sacrifice. I thought it was a loophole, a way to break the curse without anyone getting hurt." I shake my head, my throat tightening. "But it didn’t work. And I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt your Luna."

Aiden’s jaw tightens, his hands clenching at his sides.

"You can go back to your pack now and live without fear," I continue, forcing my voice to stay steady. "And I will go on with my life, too. I don’t want anything to do with the supernatural world."

He nods his head slowly, but there’s something unreadable in his eyes. Then, after a long pause, he asks, "You are my mate. How is that possible? Have you ever heard of a wolf being mated to a witch?"

I shake my head. "No. I’ve never heard of anything like it." I lift my chin, determination hardening my features. "Please, just reject me so we can both move on."

For a second, he looks stunned, as if the thought had never crossed his mind. His green eyes flicker with something, hesitation, uncertainty, but then he schools his expression, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"What is your full name?"

The question catches me off guard, but I answer without hesitation. "Hazel Grimshaw."

He nods his head once, inhaling deeply before his voice comes out low and firm. "I, Aiden Calloway, reject you, Hazel Grimshaw, as my fated mate."

A sharp, searing pain lances through my chest, stealing the breath from my lungs. It feels like claws ripping into my soul, a force yanking something deep within me apart. I grit my teeth against the pain, fighting the instinct to clutch at my heart.

But I won’t let him see how that affected me.

"I, Hazel Grimshaw, accept your rejection, Aiden Calloway."

The moment the words leave my lips, agony crashes through me like a tidal wave. My knees threaten to buckle, my stomach twisting violently as if something vital inside me has been ripped away. A silent gasp escapes me, but I refuse to let a sound of weakness slip past my lips.

Aiden watches me for a second longer, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. But he doesn’t say a word. He just turns and walks out of my house, disappearing into the darkness.

And just like that, he’s gone.

I stand frozen in place, staring at the empty doorway, my pulse pounding in my ears. The house feels colder, emptier, as if something significant has just shattered beyond repair.

I asked for this. I wanted this.

So why does it feel like I just lost a piece of myself?

I rush to the door, slamming it shut and locking it with shaking fingers. My breath is uneven, my chest still aching from the rejection, but I don’t have time to dwell on it. Aiden found me, which means others could too. This house is no longer safe. I have to leave.

Now.

Spinning around, I scan the room, my mind racing through what I need to take. My grimoires. The spell notes. Anything valuable enough to help me start over. My fingers tremble as I grab my bag, tossing in the books from the chest, not caring if the pages bend. I grab the candles, vials of herbs, and small jars of potion ingredients, stuffing them into a separate pouch.

I move quickly, almost frantically, sweeping through the cottage. Clothes, money, my dagger, all thrown into the bag. I don’t have time to be neat or careful. My hands shake as I shove my belongings inside, my heart pounding in my ears.

This place was supposed to be my escape. My safe haven. Now, it’s just another place I have to leave behind.

I hesitate for just a second, glancing around the room. The bookshelves, the worn rug, the little trinkets on the table, it all feels so normal, so familiar. But normal is a luxury I can’t afford anymore. I swallow hard and zip my bag shut.

No more delays. No more second guessing.

I throw the bag over my shoulder and move to the back door. I whisper a quick incantation under my breath, placing a protective ward over the house. It won’t hold forever, but it should buy me some time.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the door and step into the night. The cold air stings my skin, but I ignore it as I slip into the shadows.

I don’t look back.