MY REJECTED MATE IS THE QUEEN

AUTHOR’S POV 

The thought came so suddenly that his breath caught.

He had not allowed himself to ask that question before. There had always been another crisis to handle, another family to move, another patrol to send into the dark. He had pushed thoughts of her aside because remembering her made him feel the emptiness where their bond should have been.

But the bond had never truly disappeared.

Even after the rejection, he could still feel its faint, distant ache on the rare nights when he was alone and his wolf grew restless.

He had told himself it was nothing.

A remnant of an unwanted connection.

A wound that would eventually close.

Now, standing in the ruins of his territory, he wondered if the bond had been the only thing he had ever possessed that was not built on power.

A voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Alpha."

Rowan stood in the doorway.

Kaiden dragged his attention away from the entrance.

"What is it?"

"I may have found somewhere we can go."

Kaiden's expression sharpened. "Where?"

"A mountain settlement north of the old highway. It was abandoned before the outbreak, but someone has been restoring it. Travelers say displaced werewolves are being allowed inside."

"Who controls it?"

"That is the unusual part."

Rowan approached, carrying a folded sheet of paper.

"The reports came from two separate groups. Both claim the settlement has an organized infirmary, a guarded perimeter, and enough structure to keep its residents alive. One traveler said the woman in charge has been taking in children, injured wolves, and people who have nowhere else to go."

Kaiden frowned.

"An Alpha?"

"No one has confirmed that."

"Then who leads them?"

"Apparently, a healer."

Kaiden's patience thinned. "A healer is not going to defend a settlement against a pack of armed warriors, let alone an infected horde."

"Perhaps not. But the travelers said she has organized the residents into patrols, repaired the buildings, and established rules for distributing food and supplies. They also said she refused to turn away an injured stranger even after learning he had been attacked by raiders."

Kaiden glanced at the paper.

A settlement led by a healer. A place where the weak and displaced were allowed to stay.

It sounded less like a territory and more like a gathering of desperate people waiting for someone stronger to take control.

Yet it was the first promising report Rowan had brought him in weeks.

"Who is this woman?"

Rowan hesitated.

Kaiden noticed immediately.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"I wanted to confirm the name before bringing it to you."

"Rowan."

The older wolf unfolded the paper.

"The settlement is being called Haven."

"I asked who leads it."

Rowan met his eyes.

"Elena Voss."

For a moment, the ruined hall seemed to tilt beneath Kaiden's feet.

He stared at Rowan, certain he had misunderstood.

"What did you say?"

"Elena Voss. The healer who left Blackthorn three years ago."

Kaiden shook his head.

"No."

"I received the name from a traveler who claimed to have been treated at her infirmary. Another survivor confirmed it independently."

"No." Kaiden's voice grew harder. "There are thousands of wolves named Elena. It could be someone else."

"Both reports described the same woman. Dark hair, healing skills, a silver pendant around her neck. One of them said she had been living in a mountain settlement and had taken responsibility for several displaced families."

Kaiden felt the air leave his lungs.

Her pendant.

He remembered it from the night she left. A small silver pendant that had belonged to her mother, resting against her throat as she packed the few possessions she owned. He had seen it when he entered her room, and he remembered the way her fingers had closed around it when he told her she should reconsider leaving.

He had said the pack valued her work.

He had thought those words would be enough to make her stay.

Rowan's voice softened.

"Alpha, I believe she is alive."

Kaiden looked away.

Alive.

The word should have brought relief. Instead, it opened a door to every memory he had spent three years trying not to examine.