Chapter 3: Tamsin's POV

I can’t sleep.

Every time I close my eyes, I see him—his face, his eyes, the way his lips twitched like he was fighting himself.

And then the way they flattened when he said it. Coldly. Without hesitation.

“I reject you as my mate.”

Those words echo in my head like a curse. They sit in my chest like glass shards, sharp and immovable.

I’m curled up on the small bed in the omega quarters. The thin blanket does nothing to soothe the fever that’s taken hold of my body.

I feel hot and cold at once, my skin prickling like fire is crawling beneath it.

My heart hurts—literally aches in a way I didn’t think was possible. I press my palm to my chest, hoping it’ll somehow hold the pain in, keep it from seeping out and cracking me in two.

He chose Zara. Of course he chose Zara.

Kira stirs inside me. She's been crippled by the betrayal for the past few days, but now, I don't feel her sadness.

What I feel is her anger. Hellish storm of anger inside me.

"You know what's crazy about this, Tamsin? What's crazy is the fact that him saying we're not Luna material is no reason to turn down fate," she seethes. "He just put her over us. He put his lust over fate."

I flinch. “Don’t,” I whisper out loud. “Don’t think about it.”

“Why not?” she spits. “Why not think about it? You didn't deserve an inch of what you got!"

She's right. I didn’t.

I mean, I had a crush on him for years. Technically, every girl in the pack did. Nox was the untouchable Alpha—cold, strong, terrifyingly beautiful.

He was older, though not by so much and he was dreamy.

And deep down, I believed that if he ever looked at me, really looked at me, he’d see someone worth fighting for.

But he did look at me... really look at me. And he walked away. Even when the moon goddess made it such that he shouldn't walk away from me.

He walked away.

I think back to Zara’s face when he made the announcement, how smug her smile was. Like she’d already won. Like I was never even competition.

My fists clench the blanket. The image of her makes my blood boil. I looked up to her all these years, wishing to be perfect like her... wishing to be the one Nox thinks about.

But now, all I feel for her is pure and unfiltered anger that's slowly burning into hate. It's because of the bond, no doubt.

It wasn't her fault Nox rejected me after all, or so I try to tell myself.

The tears come faster now, hot and thick, sliding down the curve of my cheeks and pooling on the too-flat pillow beneath me.

I hate that my body feels like it’s breaking just because he said a few words. But they weren’t just words.

They were everything. They were the words of rejection that'll never make me the same again.

The room suddenly begins to feel suffocating. The walls are pressing in and the scent of other unmated omegas getting pleasured by unmated enforcers makes me feel faint.

I swing my legs over the bed and stand, swaying slightly from the fever. My legs are jelly, but Kira's anger carries me where strength ditches on me.

My fingers tremble as I pull on my coat and push out the creaky door.

The woods behind the pack house are dark and damp, thick with the scent of pine, wet soil and animal droppings.

The moon peeks through shifting clouds above, half-hidden like she’s ashamed of what her bond has become.

I walk deeper into the trees until the omega quarters are a faint dot behind me, swallowed by mist and shadows. The cold bites at my skin, but I barely notice.

When I can’t hold it in anymore, I scream.

It rips out of me, raw and violent, echoing through the trees like a banshee's cry. My knees hit the dirt as I sob—ugly, heaving sobs that shake my entire frame.

I claw at the earth, like maybe if I dig deep enough, I’ll bury the pain somewhere it can’t find me again.

“I hate you,” I whisper into the silence. “I hate you, Nox.”

I whisper it over and over and over again until my throat is raw and I realise that I stopped whispering a long time ago, and I have been screaming it all along.

A twig snaps behind me, pulling me out of my despair and halting my screams half way in my throat.

I tense, whipping around, heart stammering against my ribs.

“Easy, pup,” comes a voice—low, rough, and threaded with amusement. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to summon a demon with all that wailing.”

I blink through my tears, squinting in the dim light. A man steps into view, lantern in hand.

Silas. The pack healer.

His silver-streaked hair is tousled, his jacket misbuttoned, and there’s a half-eaten sandwich in his other hand.

“You...” I breathe, wiping at my cheeks. “What are you doing out here?”

He takes a slow bite of his sandwich, chews, then shrugs. “Can’t sleep. My joints start screaming whenever a storm’s coming, and judging by your dramatic forest breakdown, I’d say one’s on the way.”

I sniff and scowl, but there’s no bite in it. “I didn’t mean to disturb anyone.”

“You didn’t,” he says lightly, stepping closer. “But crying in the woods alone? Bad habit, Tamsin. The woods aren't always safe at night.”

I stare at him, and maybe it’s the exhaustion or the fever or the moonlight, but I whisper, “He rejected me.”

His teasing expression falters. Something shifts behind his eyes, but before I can analyse it, it disappears.

“I know dear, I know,” he says quietly. “Come on, let's get you warmed up before you pass out and make me drag your sorry ass back.”

He doesn’t give me time to argue. He just loops his arm around my shoulders and walks me toward the small cabin nestled just beyond the clearing.

His pace is steady, patient, like he’s done this before—picked up the shattered pieces of people the Alpha left behind.

Inside, the fire is already lit, a kettle steaming on the stove. I collapse onto the worn couch, shivering despite the warmth.

Silas throws a thick blanket over me and disappears into the kitchen, only to return with a chipped mug of tea.

I accept it with trembling fingers. “Thanks.”

He sits across from me, resting his elbows on his knees. “So. Nox, huh?”

The sound of his name still feels like a wound. I nod, unable to meet his gaze.

“That’s... rough,” Silas says, unusually gentle.

“He said I wasn't Luna material,” I whisper. “Omegas can't be Luna.”

"But his father thought different. His mother is an omega, after all."

"Well, he's not his father, I guess."

Silas leans back, rubbing his jaw. “And he rejected you... just like that? No warning? No sign something was wrong? Because you being an omega has nothing to do with this.”

“He looked at me like I meant nothing. Like I was a mistake,” I croak.

He watches me for a long moment. Then he sighs and mutters something under his breath.

I catch only one word: bullshit.

“What?” I blink at him.

He shakes his head, mouth tight. “You ever wonder if he didn’t have a choice?”

I freeze. “I don't...I don't understand.”

Silas’ eyes narrow, sharp and unreadable in the firelight. “I’ve lived long enough to know the difference between a wolf following his heart and one being forced to crush it. And I don’t think Nox rejected you because he wanted to.”

The air thickens and my pulse spikes.

“What are you saying?” I whisper.

Silas leans forward, his voice a low growl. “I’m saying, pup... someone made him do it.”