Seven Days to Die Begging My Rejected Mate

It’s been seven years since I rejected my fated mate, Soren. He became one of the most powerful Alphas in the North. I was once the Silver Moon Princess. Now I'm a rogue, with only seven days before the Moon's Glow Fading kills me.

Blood dripped from my lips, smearing the word "Rejection" on the letter.

It was the twelfth one I'd received, each one a cruel joke mocking my desperation.

My hand trembled as I wiped the blood away.

The sickness was flaring up again.

My inner wolf was dying.

It felt like a blunt knife carving my soul from my bones, a slow, agonizing death.

Seven days left.

Maybe less.

I'd lost my pack, my father. I was a rogue.

I needed an Alpha.

A powerful one, to perform my Final Rite. Otherwise, my soul would be trapped here forever, suffering a torment worse than death.

But no Alpha would waste a sacred rite on a rogue.

Except…

My finger hovered over the screen for a long time before I dialed the number I hadn't called in seven years.

It rang three times before he hung up.

I called again.

"You have the fucking nerve?" Soren’s voice was a guttural growl, the sound of a demon clawing its way out of hell.

"I need you to perform my Final Rite."

I heard a crash on his end, then a raw, insane laugh burst through the phone.

"The high and mighty princess of the Silver Moon pack!" Every word dripped with venom. "Begging me now? Weren't you the one who said I was only fit to lick your boots?"

"Soren—"

"Shut up!" he roared. "You think I forgot? You, standing on the Moon Goddess’s altar, in front of every wolf, calling me a 'filthy mutt.' You said my blood would 'taint' you!"

I bit my lip.

It was true. I said those things.

"What's wrong now, Daisy?" His voice turned vicious. "Did all those other Alphas refuse to touch your rotting corpse?"

"Yes," I admitted quietly.

My answer stunned him into silence.

"Then go die," he said, his voice like ice. "I'll dump your corpse in the Feral Lands south of the Rockies. Let those rabid mutts tear the flesh from your bones."

I closed my eyes, feeling the last of my moon-glow fade.

The phantom ache of our severed bond flared in my chest.

"The wolves there have such poor taste," I said softly. "Could you pick a place with a little more class?"

Silence.

Only his ragged breaths echoed through the phone.

"You're insane," he stammered. "You're fucking insane!"

"Maybe," I said with a bitter smile. "But I really am dying, Soren. This isn't a trick. It's not some ploy for pity. I'm dying."

"I don't believe you! This is another one of your Silver Moon schemes!"

"Believe what you want," I was getting tired. "If you won't do it, I understand. After all—"

"Go to hell!"

He slammed the phone down.

I set my phone on the table and stared at the moon.

Maybe I was meant to face this alone.

Seven years ago, I was the one who severed our mate bond.

I shamed him for his bloodline in front of everyone.

Then I married the Alpha of another powerful pack.

Asking for his help now was cruel.

Just as I was about to go to bed, my phone buzzed.

A text message: "Downstairs. Now."

I opened the curtains. A black sports car was parked on the street below.

The engine revved, a low growl like a caged beast.

His raw Alpha power crashed over the block like a tidal wave.

Dogs started barking and howling before tucking their tails and scattering.

Streetlights flickered, and car alarms shrieked.

Soren. He was here already.