After my death, the Lycan King wrote an elegy for me, and my children wept in sorrow. The entire pack mourned, remarking how fortunate I had been to have Raphael Phillips as my mate.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the age of fifteen—the year Raphael fell madly in love with my sister, Ximena Reyes.

He bent over backward for her, broke his leg for her, and wrote countless poems for her.

He sought me out, pretending to be troubled. "Quincy, I’m going to ask for Ximena’s hand in mating. Do you think she’ll accept?"

I smiled faintly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "She will. You and Ximena are a perfect match, a rarity in this world."

Raphael.

This time, I won’t mark you.

I won’t be your mate, nor will I be the caged wolf of the Phillips pack.

And I won’t let myself love you.

---

The day Raphael came to the Morrison pack to propose was a sunny one.

He brought the traditional gifts: the letters of intent, the ceremonial offerings, and, most notably, a pair of wild geese he had personally hunted.

"I’ve been in love with the eldest daughter of the Morrison pack for a long time. I’ve come to ask for her hand," Raphael declared, his voice steady and confident.

My stepmother, Hadassah Lawrence, the Luna of our pack, sat at the head of the room, a gentle smile on her lips. She was pleased with the Phillips family’s sincerity, especially the pair of wild geese—a symbol of enduring love.

A worthy mate is hard to find.

Raphael cherished Ximena, and it showed in every detail.

Behind the beaded curtain, Ximena smirked at me, her expression full of triumph.

I knew it was a provocation.

Ximena never liked me, and she knew exactly where to strike to hurt me the most.

I lowered my lashes, feeling no turbulence in my heart.

Even though I knew Raphael had been my mate in my past life, this life was too short, too painful—

Better to let it go.

Hadassah eventually agreed to the proposal, her smile warm and approving.

On my way back to my room, Raphael stopped me.

"Quincy, where are you running off to?"

I looked up at him, momentarily dazed.

Raphael, twenty years younger, was just as handsome as I remembered.

His presence was commanding, his features sharp and striking under the sunlight.

"Quincy, I’m going to ask for Ximena’s hand. Do you think she’ll accept?" he asked, his brow furrowing as if my answer mattered.

I took a step back. "She will."

Raphael frowned, clearly unsatisfied with my response. "The Luna has agreed, but is Ximena truly willing? Quincy, could you ask her for me? I don’t want her to feel forced."

His affection was so obvious.

So intense that even as he prepared to make her his mate, he worried about her feelings.

Yet, when Raphael marked me in my past life, no one asked for my consent.

There were no grand gestures, no wild geese, no ceremonial gifts.

I smiled faintly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "Alpha Raphael, you and Ximena are a perfect match, a rarity in this world. There’s no need to ask."

I looked up, gazing at this person I knew all too well, and sighed softly.

Raphael.

This time, I won’t mark you.

I won’t be your mate, nor will I be the caged wolf of the Phillips pack.

And I won’t let myself love you.

As I brushed past Raphael, I caught his scent—a mix of pine and something sharp, unmistakably Alpha—as his voice cut through the cold air:

"The winter chill is here. Has Azalea’s condition improved?"

Just those words nearly brought tears to my eyes.

I clenched my teeth, quickening my pace.

"She’s fine," I said stiffly, refusing to let my voice waver. "No need for your concern."

My life, my pain, would no longer be tied to him.

Not even if he pitied me for the past we shared.

In my previous life, everyone in the pack had said I was lucky.

I’d met Raphael during a pack run, a chance encounter that led to a bond I thought was unbreakable.

When I returned to the main pack, I became his chosen mate—his Luna.

For years, his pack whispered about how devoted he was to me.

There were no others in his life, save for one chosen mate, an Omega who bore a striking resemblance to Ximena.

He even defended me against those who mocked my lineage, declaring publicly that I was his one and only.

I had believed him then.

But now, I knew better.

That chosen mate, the one who lingered in the shadows of his life—her scent mirrored Ximena’s, a heady mix of roses and something darker.

My mate, the Alpha I had trusted, had loved Ximena all along.

I thought back to the first time Raphael had met Ximena.

Azalea had been ill, burning with a fever that no one in the pack cared enough to treat.

Desperate, I had gone to Raphael, begging for his help.

He had sent a healer, and Azalea had recovered.

But it was during that visit that Ximena had appeared.

She wore a crimson dress, her scent filling the room, intoxicating and undeniable.

Raphael’s words, his admiration for me, had faltered.

He had stared at her, just for a moment, but that moment had been enough.

I had dismissed it then, but now I knew.

That brief glance had been his eternity.

An eternity he would spend chasing her, even as he stood beside me.

Azalea Sanders was waiting for me at the edge of the pack’s territory.

The chilly wind bit at my skin, and I hurried to meet her.

But when I looked up, I saw the concern in her eyes.

"Is Alpha Raphael here to claim Ximena as his mate?"

I froze for a moment.

Suddenly, I remembered—Azalea had asked me the same question in my past life.

Back then, I had been so heartbroken that I gave her a vague answer before retreating to my room.

Now, thinking about it, the one who had been even more distressed than me was my mother.

A warmth spread through my chest, and I gently patted Azalea’s hand.

"Azalea, I don’t care for Alpha Raphael. Please don’t worry about me."

She seemed ready to say more, but when she saw the clarity in my eyes, the sincerity in my tone, she finally relaxed a little.

That night, Ximena came to find me.

She was dressed in a striking red gown, her scent sharp and overpowering, even in the darkness.

Her lips curved into a smirk, her voice as sweet as honey but laced with venom.

"Quincy, do you know why I happened to pass by that day?"

She fixed her gaze on me, her words light but cutting.

"I did it on purpose. I can’t stand to see you happy, and I certainly can’t stand to see that little wretch Azalea happy. If you’re in pain, she’ll be in pain too.

"Everything you love, I can take it from you. Even if I don’t want it, I have the power to make sure it’s always thinking of me, always longing for me!"

I stared back at her, the silence between us thick with tension.

From the smallest things—clothes, trinkets—to the biggest, like mates, even the stray wolf pup I had found as a child, Ximena had taken it all.

But the things I cherished, she despised.

I would never forget the moment my pup, bloodied and broken, lay dying in my arms. With its last bit of strength, it nuzzled my hand, whimpering softly, as if to say it was in pain.

It hurt, and I hurt more.

Ximena said the next target would be my mother.

I knelt before her, my voice trembling. "Please, show some mercy."

And so, Azalea and I were sent away to a small, distant pack for five long years.

I knew she wouldn’t let me go.

So, she took my "heart’s desire" too.

I looked at her now and let out a sigh.

I spoke, my voice steady.

"Yes, I did love him."

So please, Ximena, never let him go.

Alpha Raphael, I reject you as my mate.