He Regretted Choosing His Mate But I Had Already Found My Alpha

Adrian Vale came home victorious and broke my heart before the blood on his armor had dried.

For six months, I had taught the Alpha heir how to stand, walk, and fight again.

For four of those months, he had kissed me like I was the future waiting at the end of his pain.

Then he found his true mate on the battlefield.

He chose her in front of the entire Silverbrook Pack.

And when I walked away, he looked shocked—as if my devotion had always belonged to him, even after his love no longer did.

“Elara.” Adrian reached for me across the celebration platform. “Please. Let me explain.”

Regina Cross stood beside him, tall and battle-bright, her dark hair braided with the red cords of her former pack. His hand rested at her waist. The gesture was protective, instinctive, and far too intimate to misunderstand.

I stared at that hand because looking into his beautiful green eyes would have destroyed what little dignity I had left.

A year ago, those eyes had been glazed with fever. A silver-tipped spear had shattered his hip and poisoned the muscles along his spine. Three healers had said he might never walk. His father had begun quietly considering another successor.

I had refused to accept it.

I had slept beside Adrian’s bed to monitor his breathing. I had held him while wolfsbane convulsions tore through his body. I had let him crush my fingers during bone-setting, rubbed life back into his legs, and walked every painful step with him.

When he first stood without support, he had pulled me against his trembling body and whispered, “Everything I become after this is because of you.”

I had believed that meant we would become something together.

Now the courtyard roared for its returned warriors while my wolf curled inside me as if she had been kicked.

“We met during the siege,” Adrian said. His voice dropped into the warm, coaxing tone that made half the unmated women in Silverbrook forgive him anything. “The bond hit us immediately. I did not plan it.”

“Did you kiss her before or after you sent me that letter saying you dreamed of my mouth?”

His face tightened.

Regina shifted. “I didn’t know about you.”

“This is between Elara and me,” Adrian said.

“No.” I finally looked at him. “There is no you and me.”

Pain flashed over his face, almost convincing in its purity. “You are my closest friend. I still need you.”

The words cut deeper than a clean rejection. He wanted his destined mate and the woman who had carried his broken body. Passion from Regina. Comfort from me.

I stepped backward. “Find another healer.”

Alpha Conrad Vale intercepted me at the platform stairs. Adrian had inherited his green eyes but not the cold calculation behind them.

“Do not turn a sacred bond into a public scandal,” Conrad murmured. “My son still values you. Silverbrook will reward your service.”

Behind him, the crowd began chanting Adrian and Regina’s names together. Someone carried forward the ceremonial cup meant for a victorious heir and his future Luna. Six months earlier, Adrian had joked that I would drink from it beside him one day.

“What reward?” I asked.

“A permanent place in the healing house. Excellent rooms. You may continue overseeing Adrian’s recovery.”

Well, a comfortable room from which I could watch him build a life with someone else.

I removed the silver recovery token Adrian had tied around my wrist after his first unaided step. I placed it in his father’s palm.

“Give my room to his mate,” I said. “Perhaps she enjoys caring for what other women repair.”

I left before he could see me cry.

By sunset, I had packed my herbs, surgical instruments, and three dresses, and accepted an old offer from Blackridge Pack, two territories north. Their Alpha had suffered a severe injury during the same war. Their last healer had quit after he threw a medicine tray through a window.

A charming patient had ruined me. A hateful one sounded safe.

Blackridge sat between pine-covered mountains, its stone keep built into a ridge as dark as an old bruise. Beta Callum Reed met me at the gate with an easy smile and a cup of hot cider.

“You must be Healer Elara Wynn. I expected someone older.”

“I expected more broken windows.”

He laughed. “Only two.”

The pay was twice what Silverbrook offered. My rooms overlooked a frozen lake. The pack hospital was clean, well supplied, and staffed by competent assistants. Everything was perfect except the patient.

Ronan Thorne sat in a chair near the hospital fire, one massive hand gripping the carved wolf-head of his cane. He was thirty-one, five years older than me, with black hair, pale gray eyes, and a hard face that looked designed to frighten confessions out of liars. A scar disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt. His left leg was braced from thigh to ankle.

Even seated, he radiated Alpha power. My wolf lifted her head.

Mine, she breathed.

I nearly dropped my medical case.

It was not a mate bond. I knew that at once. A violent awareness of male strength, wounded pride, and the clean cedar scent of his skin beneath the bitterness of medicine.

Ronan’s gaze moved over me with equal sharpness, pausing for one dangerous second at my mouth.

Then his expression closed.

“I don’t need you.”

I set my case on the table. “Your leg says otherwise.”

“My leg doesn’t speak.”

“Perhaps because you frighten it.”

Callum coughed to hide a laugh.

Ronan’s fingers tightened around his cane. “The previous healer said the joint is permanently damaged.”

“The previous healer also prescribed enough moonroot to sedate a bear. May I examine you?”

“No.”

I looked at Callum. “Does he always confuse being Alpha with being sensible?”

“Usually before breakfast,” Callum said.

Ronan rose too fast. Pain carved through his face before he could hide it. His injured leg buckled. I caught his forearm instinctively.

Heat slammed through me.

His skin was hot, his muscles rigid under my palm. He smelled of anger and something darker that made my pulse jump. For one suspended breath, we stood chest to chest. His eyes turned almost silver.

“Let go,” he said roughly.

I did, though every nerve in my hand protested.

He regained his balance and glared down at me. “You will be paid for the journey. Leave tomorrow.”

I thought of Adrian expecting me to remain useful after replacing my heart. I thought of one year spent making an ungrateful man whole.

“No.”

Ronan blinked.

“I signed a three-month contract with your beta. You can dismiss me for incompetence, but first you’ll have to prove it.” I folded my arms. “Give me fourteen days. If I cannot reduce your pain and restore measurable movement, I will leave without another coin.”

“And if you can?”

“You follow my treatment plan without throwing anything.”

His gaze lowered over my face, assessing, irritated, and far too intense. “You are either brave or stupid.”

“I’ve recently discovered I can be both.”

For the first time, the corner of his mouth moved.

“Fourteen days,” he said.

That night, alone in my beautiful new room, I cried for the man I had lost until my ribs hurt. But when sleep finally came, I did not dream of Adrian.

I dreamed of cold gray eyes, a hot hand closing around my wrist, and an Alpha who had looked at my mouth as if refusing me cost him something.