Rejected by Her Mate (EBOOK)

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ONE

“ONCE UPON A TIME, an evil Faerie King seduced a mortal wolf-shifter and sired a half-breed child on her, not knowing that his illegitimate daughter would grow up to become one of the most powerful creatures in all the cosmos. When he found out, rather than tremble in fear at what he had wrought, he decided to use her as a weapon to gain control of Earth as well as the fae realm of Elfhame.

He sent his best general to capture his daughter and bring her to his palace. When that didn’t work, he abducted her best friend instead, using the threat of the friend’s public execution as blackmail.

Rather than submit, this powerful half-fae shifter discovered the truth about her heritage. She decided to take on the mad king in an effort to defeat him and rescue her best friend.

With the help of her fated mate and the mad king’s noble general, the half-breed killed the evil king and formed an alliance with Elfhame’s new queen, bringing peace to the realms and saving her friend from certain death.”

It was a good story, one made even better by virtue of being true. It was also a tale I’d told many times. Ember Valentine was a hero who had saved two worlds from a madman’s devastating war, with the help of her shifter mate, Cai Greystalker, and their fae co-mate, Tamlain. Happily, Queen Titania had proven herself a fair and capable ruler after the death of her much-reviled husband, King Oberon.

And then there was me.

I was the kidnapped friend.

I was the one that Oberon’s pet witch—a vile woman who’d infiltrated Ember’s life and gained her trust while spying on her for the king—had stolen away from Earth to use as bait. It had been the most horrific thing that ever happened to me. Beaten and chained; tortured because my pain would in turn torture Ember, my good friend. Then I’d been rescued, and it was as though everyone just sort of expected me to… get over it.

I shuddered, pressing my fingers into my temples.
Don’t think about it, Darby. They’re right. It’s over. It’s stupid to keep replaying it in your head like this.

It was bad enough that I had to revisit the bowels of Oberon’s dungeon in my dreams without obsessing over things during my waking hours as well.

Besides, I had a job to do.

Despite my unease at being back on Elfhame, far from my pack’s home on Earth, part of my new responsibilities included liaising with Queen Titania. The four of us—Ember, Cai, Tamlain, and I—had arranged for educational exchanges to be developed between our two worlds, with the queen’s blessings. The idea had been to establish a sort of haven in our packlands for those who had no place else to go—whether fae, human, or shifter. We’d hoped it would eventually reduce the fear and stigma between our peoples.

I wouldn’t lie. After all my years living as a low-status omega within the Greystalker pack, I had private doubts that human, shifter, and fae natures could ever truly overcome the friction between them—but I owed Ember my life, and it was a worthy goal. Trying to help bring her vision into reality was the least I could do.

Besides, it wasn’t as though things hadn’t improved within the packlands since Cai became our new alpha. They had. I just remembered all too well how much abuse had rained down on our heads under the rule of Cai’s sire, when Ember and I had been pups.

Shifters could be cruel. Though maybe not as cruel as fae could be.

After stepping between the two realms through Tamlain’s magic travel portal, I had to swallow the hot wave of panic that tried to overwhelm me. I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out the vibrant colors and strange smells that assaulted me the moment the portal snapped shut behind me.

This was fine.

Being here was fine.

I could do this.

Elfhame had the power to drive humans and shifters mad. That insanity had overwhelmed me completely during my previous captivity, leaving me nearly catatonic by the time I’d been rescued. But Ember was a child of both worlds. Her mental touch was a balm that could pull others back from the madness. She’d showed me how to survive here in the fae realm. I latched on to the psychic memory of the peace she’d shared with me during that horrible time.

Opening my eyes slowly, I checked that my equilibrium had returned, and found I was back in control. In front of me lay a rustic cottage that I knew very well.

This little slice of Elfhame was safe, I reminded myself firmly. It always had been. Here, I would find Dianthe—one of the very few fae I called a friend. She was Tamlain’s cousin, and she had risked her life along with the others to defeat Oberon and free me from captivity. Today, I had arranged to meet up with her for a few hours before attending my appointment with Queen Titania.

Despite my familiarity with this little house tucked away in the forest, I couldn’t help but throw an uneasy look over my shoulder as I knocked on the door. On Elfhame, I always felt like unseen eyes were watching me from the shadows.

“Darby!” Dianthe’s melodious voice greeted me as she pulled the door open. “It’s good to see you, my friend.”

The fae warrior looked the same as ever—tall and strong, her green eyes glowing with good humor and her strawberry blond hair done up in intricate braids. We embraced, her familiar sweet scent swirling around me. Grounding me.

“It’s good to see you too,” I told her. Pulling back, I gave her a teasing onceover. “Don’t lie, though—you were five minutes away from ditching me and heading out for a solo hunt.”

A mischievous grin spread across my friend’s face. “Well, you are a bit late.”

I pretended to scowl at her. “I am not late! Ember specifically had Tamlain open the portal for me early, because she knew you’d be itching to leave.”

Dianthe’s smile grew devious. “Then Tamlain should have known to open it ten minutes ago.”

My fake scowl broke. We laughed and embraced again. Goddess, I’d missed her. Elfhame was far from being my favorite place, but Dianthe was one of my favorite people. Maybe I should invite her to come hunt with me on Earth more often. That way I could see her without having to fight the fae realm’s influence during our visits.

She ushered me inside and wordlessly pointed to the back of the cottage, where a cozy bedroom was tucked away. I ducked inside and stripped quickly out of my clothes, tossing them into my backpack and placing the bag on a chair in the corner.

Shifting into my wolf form made everything somehow more bearable. I padded back to the front room and blinked up at Dianthe, licking my chops in anticipation. We went outside, and she closed the door behind her, waving her hand to activate the magical wards that would protect the premises in our absence.

With a mischievous light in her eyes, she winked at me and sprang away, sprinting silently into the depths of the trees. Grinning a wolfish grin, I tore after her.

As I ran, my breathing settled into a deep, steady rhythm. In many ways, my emotions were muted in my wolf form—the bad ones, especially. It was easier to deal with the traumatic memories and the magic of Elfhame as a wolf than as a human. Tracking Dianthe through the trees was simple. It didn’t take long before my easy, loping strides caught up with her. I slowed, moving noiselessly to join her. She was crouched behind a thick shrub, her attention focused on a deer that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dappled light as it picked its way daintily through the underbrush.

Without a word being necessary between us, I stalked around to the side on silent paws, eager to flank our prey. My mouth watered in anticipation of the kill, when suddenly the deer’s head popped up in alarm.

I froze, afraid for a moment that I had somehow alerted the animal to our presence. But how? The wind was in my favor, and I hadn’t made a sound.

Then all became clear. The deer wasn’t looking at me. A low murmur of noise from somewhere behind the creature reached my perked ears. Then the deer sprang away, bounding out of sight into the dense forest. A moment later, Dianthe rose from her hiding place with a frustrated snarl, storming through the undergrowth towards the sound of the voices that had startled our breakfast.

With a huff, I trailed after her. Well before she came into view, I could hear Dianthe’s irritated voice over the rustle of purple and gold leaves.

“—completely careless and out of bounds! You call yourselves hunters? I’ve seen humans with more stealth than you three cretins.”

I stepped into the clearing where the rather one-sided confrontation was taking place. There, three males were facing off with Dianthe—or rather, she was facing off with them. Two of the males were fae, while the third was unmistakably a shifter. He turned at my approach, his expression wary, and my breath caught on a low, involuntary whine.

I knew this male. Or, more accurately, I’d seen him at Titania’s Court and nearly stumbled over my own feet like an idiot… because how in the goddess’ name was anyone that beautiful? Dark hair falling in messy waves over brilliant blue eyes. High cheekbones, sharp jaw, and the graceful body of a predator.

Goddess help me, I was drooling.

The shifter male and his mother were advisors to Titania, and supposedly they’d been tied up somehow with whatever disagreement had originally estranged Titania from her husband Oberon. That was the extent of my knowledge about him. Yet even when I was in wolf form, his perfect features made my heart thrum fast and hard in my chest. I rumbled a low growl of irritation, because this unexpected coincidence was an added distraction that I did not need today.

One of the fae males cocked an eyebrow at Dianthe in an appraising way, clearly taking note of her empty hands. He was pretty in the way that so many male fae were pretty, with sculpted features, a lithe body, and pale, platinum blond hair. His bearing practically reeked of high breeding.

“We aren’t hunting,” he said, “and therefore we had no need for stealth. We’ve already made our kill.”

This, apparently, was his justification for the way they’d been heedlessly crashing through the forest, scaring away the game. He gestured to his companion, a broader, rougher looking fae with red hair and a smattering of freckles dusting his nose and cheeks. The second fae had an animal slung over his shoulders—something resembling a small boar, but with vicious spiral tusks jutting from its lower jaw.

“How nice for you. That was our kill.” Dianthe pointed emphatically after the departed deer. “And we only started hunting a few minutes ago.”

I realized rather abruptly that the male shifter was hunting in human form rather than as a wolf, with a bow slung over his shoulder. His muscular arms hung loosely at his sides, his fingers resting on the hilt of a dagger sheathed at his hip in a studiously casual way.

Screwing up my courage in the face of way too much male prettiness on display at once, I crossed to Dianthe’s side and gave her a meaningful look. She sighed and flicked her fingers in a complex magical sigil. I drew my human skin back around me, shifting form, and her magic settled around my body in the form of simple clothing as I rose to my feet.

The shifter male frowned at me. The moment his eyes met mine in human form, sudden pain flared hot and insistent in my chest. I swallowed a gasp, my hand rising instinctively to cover the burning place just above my heart.

Utter shock overwhelmed me. I didn’t need to reach beneath Dianthe’s ephemeral robes to recognize the burn of the unmatched fate-mark that had lain dormant on my skin for months. Dormant and totally dead… until this very moment.

TWO

NO, I THOUGHT, followed closely by, seriously, no. I really don’t need this right now. C’mon, fate—do me a solid, here. Don’t be a total bitch like this, okay?

It was all I could do not to trace the outline of my fate-mark with my fingertips, following its figure-eight shape like an infinity symbol. The terrible burning sensation abated almost as quickly as it had come, but the skin over my sternum still felt inflamed and itchy.

I was an outlier in our pack; very few people manifested a fate-mark after the coming-of-age ceremony we called the wolfbirth. After the mark had bloomed so unexpectedly upon my skin during the ceremony, Cai had used his influence as the pack alpha to help me make discrete inquiries within the Greystalker clan and all the surrounding packs. No one else had a matching fate-mark shaped like an infinity sign—the mark of my soulmate.

I had begun to think it was just part of my destiny as the most unlucky and ill-fated member of the pack. After being kidnapped and held as bait by the most insane ruler that Elfhame had ever known, of course I’d also end up with an unmatched fate-mark. In the brief, rather pathetic history of my life, this latest mild scandal had barely registered.

“Darby?” Dianthe’s voice shook me from my bitter thoughts.

I looked up quickly and found that four sets of piercing eyes were pinned on me. I could tell by Dianthe’s tone that this wasn’t the first time she’d called my name.

The shifter male’s brilliant, summer-blue eyes were wide with… shock? Outrage? I wasn’t sure. A queasy feeling began to roil in my stomach.

I cleared my throat, tearing my gaze away to meet Dianthe’s. “Sorry, what?” I rasped.

“Are you well?” Dianthe searched my face with clear concern.

Steeling myself not to rub at the inflamed fate-mark, I drew in a shuddering breath. How could I possibly explain what just happened? What were the chances that my fate-mark would come alive at this exact moment… the same moment I met the eyes of another shifter? A shifter I’d been hopelessly attracted to on the one other occasion I’d seen him.

“Peachy,” I croaked. “Seriously. Never better.”

She would see right through me, of course, but I tried to communicate to her with a glare that she should let the matter drop, at least for now.

Dianthe, though, clearly had other plans.

Her eyes landed on the queen’s shifter advisor, who was mindlessly rubbing at the same spot above his own heart. I knew it could only mean one thing—this mysterious male had the fate-mark that matched mine.

This was completely insane. In my distraction, my hand crept up to my chest again. I couldn’t help it.

Dianthe’s gaze flicked back and forth between the two of us, each trying to massage the pain from our stinging skin.

“There’s some kind of weird shifter thing going on right now, isn’t there,” she said, not making it sound like a question.

“What are you prattling on about, woman?” The shifter snarled at her, his head snapping up with a look of pure defiance. “What business is it of yours?”

How was this possible? I blinked rapidly, still trying to wrap my mind around this stunning revelation. Almost despite myself, a fragile thread of hope and excitement crept through me.

I have a mate. A real mate. He’s here! He’s been here on Elfhame this whole time… and he’s the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen in my entire life!

Could… could this mean that I wasn’t some impossibly damaged shell of a she-wolf after all, doomed to misery and misfortune all my life? He looked so strong. Could he be an alpha? Was it possible I might finally escape the low omega status that had dogged me my entire life, once and for all? Good goddess, he was an advisor to a queen—

The wolf inside me grew restless, longing to get closer to our mate. Almost against my own will, I crept forward, my feet carrying me towards the male who would complete my soul with his.

What was it that Ember always told me? That she could feel the presence of both her mates on an almost spiritual level?
I wondered if it would be the same for me.

Never taking my eyes off the male who was now scowling at the forest floor as though it had personally offended him, I let my wolf’s senses reach out towards him, feeling the air around him until I found the bright spot of our connection.
A low growl erupted in his chest and he jerked backwards, severing the delicate silken thread between us in one swift slice.

The sudden loss stopped me in my tracks, stealing the air out of my lungs. A whimper escaped my throat.

“Edric, Aiwin, we’re leaving,” he said, his tone biting. “I’ve no time for mutts and harpies.”

The insult tore a gasp from my chest and sent blood rushing to my cheeks. The two fae—Aiwin and Edric, apparently—looked at each other in bewilderment.

“Oy, Vale! That’s well out of order,” said the redhead, glancing at me as though in secondhand embarrassment. “What’s got into you?”

“Mutts?” Dianthe’s tone was indignant with disbelief. “If this is how the queen’s advisor behaves in public, then I daresay we’ve no time for you either!”

The shifter directed a glare at her. She didn’t back down.

“Dianthe,” I murmured, a horrible, sinking feeling making my chest feel like lead. “Leave it.”

All my enthusiasm for our hunt had fled in the time it took my mate to insult me and look at me like I was dirt on his boot. Right now, the only thing I wanted was to return to the safety of the cottage. Shame welled up inside me as the beautiful shifter that fate had tied to my soul turned a cold shoulder to us. My cheeks burned hot, and I stood blinking back stinging tears.

“They can’t even take down a deer,” he muttered, herding his companions away from us. “We shouldn’t linger. I’d hate for their incompetence to rub off on us somehow.”

Dianthe took a hostile step forward, but I clutched her arm, desperate to escape the situation.

“Please,” I whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear me.

Cocking her head at me, Dianthe glanced down at my trembling fingers on her arm, and then up at my pinched face. I was sure my cheeks had gone beet-red with humiliation.

“Fine. I’ll let the disrespectful little whelp live,” she assured me, though her voice sounded like gravel. “For now.”

“This isn’t like you, Vale,” the blond fae said. His voice was barely audible as the trio walked away from us. “What aren’t you telling us?”

The shifter who should be my mate didn’t answer. Instead, he cast a final, narrow-eyed glance over his shoulder at me. I don’t want you, his expression said. I don’t need you. Not for anything.