Knotting His Rejected Breeder

RAMON’S POV

On my way back to my room, I saw Lorena seated on the bare grass, staring at the sky. She was lost in thought, she didn’t hear me approach her. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, her posture heavy with something unspoken.

I sat beside her, and touched her shoulders. The fabric of her dress felt smooth under my fingers, still warm from the day’s sun. She turned around, startled by my random appearance. Her eyes widened for a brief moment before narrowing again.

"What are you looking at?" I asked quietly.

"The sky," she replied coldly. Her voice lacked its usual warmth, flat and distant as she turned her gaze back upward.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked. The words felt heavier than I intended in the quiet night.

"I can’t be mad at the alpha." Her tone stayed distant, almost formal.

I noticed she didn’t personalise my title. She would usually say something along the lines of, "my alpha." The absence of that familiar affection stung more than I cared to admit. She was definitely angry. I had scolded her in front of everyone. The memory of her face in that moment flashed through my mind—hurt and humiliated.

I didn’t have to explain myself to her. But I needed to explain myself to myself. Seeing Sonia in that position had irritated me more than usual. All I could think of was to save her. The image of Sonia on the ground, Lorena’s hand tangled in her hair, kept replaying in my head like an unwelcome echo.

"You should have let her be, tonight," I said. The river’s distant murmur filled the silence between us, a gentle, constant sound.

"Why?" Her question came sharp, turning her head toward me again. Her eyes searched my face, demanding answers.

"Because she has done a good job in helping the pack. There are times we should push for peace, and not war." The words felt strange leaving my mouth, but they rang true in the cool night air.

She turned to me sharply. "That’s how it begins, Ramon. First, you’re pushing for peace when it comes to her. Next, she has you wrapped around her pinky." Her voice rose with frustration, cutting through the quiet like a blade.

I laughed at her concerns. They were funny and unfounded. Sonia could never have me wrapped around her finger. Whatever feeling this was, had something to do with the full moon that was fast approaching. It heightened our mate bond, and made it impossible not to crave each other. The pull was strong tonight, tugging at the edges of my control.

"What’s so funny? Am I a joke to you?" Her eyes flashed with hurt, the moonlight catching the glint of unshed tears.

"Far from it, Rena." I softened my tone, reaching out to touch her arm lightly. The skin there was cool from the night air.

"So why do you favour her words over mine? You don’t investigate her for possibly being a traitor, but you question my loyalty to you. Have I ever gone against your wishes?" She was playing the manipulation game.

I found it cute to an extent. She would do anything to preserve the hold she had over me. Everyone was playing a game. Some more transparent than the other. The problem Lorena had was her destructible ability to push too far. Her voice trembled with emotion, the words laced with accusation.

"I don’t favour her. The full moon is coming soon. Whatever you see is just the forces pushing us together. It will pass, and things will return to normal," I said. The explanation felt thin even to my own ears, but I clung to it.

"You’re not sure about that. Nothing is set in stone. For all I know, you could decide to do the mate dance with her, and seal your bond." A shudder ran through my spine at the visualisation of those words.

The idea was very tempting. Touching her without restrictions would create a dance no one could ever be able to replicate. The explosion bound to follow would be talked about until the end of time. Sonia was pretty, no doubt. She even had pretty features that made me want to risk it all, and indulge further than my limits.

But I was beginning to see that Lorena was right. I couldn’t afford to give in to my lust. The only thing it would do, would be making things more complicated than they needed to be. The thought of losing control completely sent a cold warning through me.

"Don’t think about things that won’t happen. Think happier thoughts, and give room for your heart to find peace. Things are going to return to normal after the full moon." I tried to sound reassuring, but the words felt forced.

"I hope so," she muttered. Her voice was small, almost defeated as she stared back at the sky. The stars continued their silent watch above us, indifferent to the storm between us.

She returned her attention to the sky, whilst I watched her. There was something very different about her that night. Something reflective. Like she had a burden in her heart. Her shoulders remained tense, her breathing uneven. I would have asked her what the problem was, but I knew it had everything to do with Sonia.

For someone who loved to project confidence, she sure did look shaken. The moonlight highlighted the faint lines of worry on her face, making her look younger and more vulnerable.

I rose to my feet, ready to return to my room. But I couldn’t just leave her alone. The night air had grown colder, carrying a chill that made the grass feel wet under my boots.

"Let’s go in," I said to her. My hand extended toward her in a silent offer.

"Into your room?" She asked without looking up. Her voice held a sharp edge, laced with suspicion.

My mind visualised my room. I couldn’t bring her in. Sonia was still there. She would go crazy if she caught Sonia laying on my bed, when I never allow anyone else to lay on it. The thought of the potential explosion made my jaw tighten.

"No, you need to rest. I’ll go to my room, and you’ll go to yours. It’s going to dawn soon." The words came out practical, but the tension between us remained thick.

"I heard she fainted, and you took her to your room. Is she awake now?" She asked. Her tone sharpened further, the jealousy clear in every syllable.

I sighed in my heart. She was only hurting herself by listening to the gossip. I wish she would just drown out every voice that wasn’t mine. Sonia was in my room, but I was here with her. That should be all that mattered. The river’s distant murmur seemed louder in the silence that followed.

"She was before I left the room to attend to something important." The answer was honest, but I could feel it wasn’t enough.

"So you left her in your room?" Her voice was sharp, and dark. The words cut through the night like an accusation.

"I don’t think I want to keep being questioned, Lorena. Do you want to go in or not?" Frustration crept into my tone, the patience I had been clinging to starting to fray.

"Not. I’d rather stay out here. You don’t need me anymore, anyway." She turned her face away, staring back at the stars with rigid shoulders.

"Oh come on, don’t be dramatic. It’s getting cold. You should go take a rest." The night breeze had picked up, carrying a sharper chill that made the grass sway gently.

"How is that supposed to happen when my thoughts would be clouded by Sonia in your room? Except you promise to kick her out. She has the clinic. She can rest there." Her words were laced with bitterness, each one heavier than the last.

"Don’t be silly, Rena." I rolled my eyes. She wasn’t going to tell me what to do. I didn’t give a damn about her insecurities. Sonia would stay. The decision felt final in my chest.

"You can’t even do that, yet you claim she has no control over you. I’ll go to my room, but like you said, it’s a new day." She rose to her feet, ignoring the offer of my hand to help her up, and walked away.

I sighed at her retreating figure. Shaking my head, I continued on my way to my room. The path felt longer in the darkness, the cool air pressing against my skin.

As I opened the door, I expected to see Sonia’s outline on my bed. The familiar scent of the room.

But much to my surprise, she was nowhere around. The bed was empty, the sheets slightly rumpled but clearly abandoned.

"Sonia?" I called, despite knowing she wasn’t present. My voice echoed softly in the quiet space.

My eyes fell on a piece of paper that had to have been ripped out from one of my books. The note lay neatly on the pillow, the handwriting simple and clear. "I returned to the clinic. Thanks for your help," the note read.

She really left, I thought as I returned the note to the position I picked it from. The paper felt light in my fingers, yet carried unexpected weight.

Suddenly, my room and my heart felt empty. The silence pressed in heavier than before, the large bed looking too vast and cold without her small form in it. The realization settled deep, leaving an ache I wasn’t prepared for.