Marked By Rejection: The Curse Of Her Mates Novels & Stories

"You feel the bond, don’t you?" "Yes," I breathe. "Then so does he." I focus on the rhythmic pull, the quiet movements, but my mind is still restless. Fear coils tight in my chest like a python with it’s prey. "If he doesn’t recognize me," I murmur, "if he rejects me-" "He won't." she interrupted firmly. "Even if he chooses to, it would destroy him. Rejecting a mate, Ayla, is the worst kind of torment. It brings weakness to the body and madness to the mind. No sane wolf would ever do it willingly."

I passed out naked, bloody, and alone but free; after ten years, I was free. I had just done the unthinkable. I completed the rejection ritual marking myself as a mate rejecter, a pariah in my community. I not only rejected my mate but my old pack. My whole identity to that point – was gone. I was now scarred, no longer marked. Now, I carry the black scar created by the silver blade, and I reject the mate made just for me by the goddess. The cursed life of a "Scarred One" is what I must look forward to now. The sense of loss was foreboding. Was what I lost the only cost for my freedom from my mate bond?

“Then tell me, what are the signs we learned? The things someone feels when they meet their mate?” I signed dramatically, “A strong connection, the ability sensed the scent of their partner, and craving it so much, that they would be able to part with them, and once marked, the bond strengthens “Tessy, you’re overthinking things,” I said with a shrug. “It’s been two thousand years now since the moon goddess cursed the werewolf clan, do you really think she’d just lift the curse suddenly?” I wave my hand dismissively. “Yes, the moon goddess lifts the curse because she couldn’t stand watching our precious Mildred suffer for a crime she didn’t commit,” Tessy said dramatically, giggling.

She looks at me when she says this. “But as well all know he didn’t love her, but she wouldn’t accept this, so she cast a spell so she would be his mate. However, he still rejected her. And, of course, she did not take the rejection well. So she cursed him and his line to be powerless if they ever rejected their mates.” My eyes go wide. That’s my pack history.

Then I saw it. At her lower back, just above the waist chain, sitting in the skin like something that had always been there. The mark. Circle and star, small and precise, the exact shape that the mate bond produced when it was ready to be acknowledged, when both parties were close enough and the connection strong enough that the body simply confirmed what was already true. The exact mark of my curse. It was the same with my great-grandfather’s mate. She was my mate. Not might be. Not according to rituals and research and the healer's careful qualified language. She was my mate and the mark on her back was sitting there in the warm light of my room telling me so plainly and without qualificat

Just empty space where she used to be. Rejected. The word kept repeating. Rejected. By her mate. In front of everyone. Because she was born wrong. Footsteps outside. Aria didn't move. Didn't care. They stopped by her cell. Voices. Low. Conspiratorial. "can't keep her alive." Elder Marius. "The curse is too dangerous. She could" "Execute her at dawn." A woman. Older. "Make it look like an escape attempt." "Her pack won't care. They've wanted rid of her for years."

I stated as I sat down on the bed. She gasped “Cursed as in?” she was standing near the window. “A witch had cursed my dad; I mean his heir as he refused to be with her for lifetime. The witch, I heard liked my dad. When he rejected her, she could not take it and cursed his future heir” “That’s shitty thing to do. Witches truly live up to their names” she muttered. “How does this affect your life?” she asked. “It means I will lose my mates once we mark each other. So far, I have lost two of my mates. My third mate Oliver never mated with me. Later I found out that he only wanted to be with me for the Alpha position” I murmured.

“You said she was our doom or our making. You said she would free us from our hunger or drive us deeper into it. How can she be both if she’s just… ordinary?” “Because you marked her,” Miasan said, her voice taking on an edge. “Because you bonded with her despite having no mate connection. Your curse, the one laid upon you by the moon goddess herself states that you cannot claim anyone who is not your true mate. To do so would deepen the hunger, strengthen the beast, drive you toward the same madness that claimed you three years ago.” The pieces were falling into place, forming a picture I didn’t want to see. “So by marking her,” I said slowly, “we violated the curse.”

The curse, or whatever you say. My mate bond was cursed. I was cursed. By whom? I don’t know. I never tried either. “You are a Sun-wolf. If your mate happens to be Moon-Wolf, he would end up dying. The only way to protect him is to… reject him. The goddess doesn’t want this union.” The old lady dressed in black from the forgotten streets of The Silver City said it. Who was she? Why did she say it? Why me? All these questions kept me busy for days until the stress from the precinct took over. I was thrilled to have Emma join me.

It was something deeper, something that shattered my soul all over again as he claimed my body without my permission, driven by a curse I didn’t understand. I eventually stopped fighting and just lay there, tears streaming down my face, while my wolf whispered “mate” like a broken prayer. When it was over, he collapsed beside me, his breathing ragged and harsh. The red in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by gold. For one moment, I thought I saw regret or maybe confusion flicker across his face. But then he was gone. He vanished into the night without a word, leaving me alone in my destroyed cottage with bloodstains on my sheets.