The Rejected Mate (Elaine and Michael) novel Chapter 145

(Kathy)

“Mom… Dad… I don’t want to be the next Alpha.”

The words fell from Leo’s mouth like stones into a still pool—small at first, then widening ripples through every soul in the room. His voice trembled, but there was steel under the shaking. The truth had weight; it landed and would not be pulled back.

“It’s not for me,” he continued, eyes fixed on his father as if daring the world to argue. “I’m sorry if I disappoint you, but I don’t want to be Alpha. All I want is a simple, peaceful life. Becoming Alpha is the opposite of that.”

For a second the room was nothing but the sound of breath. The tapestry of family history, centuries of expectation, and the ghosts of choices long made hovered in the air like dust motes in a shaft of light.

Kathy’s expression was a complex tapestry of emotions—relief mingled with sorrow, and the profound ache of a mother witnessing her child veer away from the path she had envisioned for him. Her eyes flicked toward Michael, searching his face for a hint of understanding, hoping to decipher whether this revelation was a wound or a form of healing.

Michael’s gaze was a tumultuous sea of conflicting emotions. He had spent years as a man hollowed by grief, rebuilt through sheer discipline—a wolf who had relinquished a crown as an act of penance, learning the quiet dignity of living without the weight of a throne. But this moment was different. This was his son, boldly rejecting the very birthright he had once yearned to relinquish. This was the legacy he had shed blood for, now being returned to him in a manner he had never anticipated.

“What do you envision for your future if not as an Alpha?” Michael finally inquired, each word carefully chosen, as if he were walking a tightrope stretched over a chasm of uncertainty.

“I want to be the pack doctor,” Leo replied, his voice steady with a sincerity that anchored him more than any formal training ever could. “I wish to contribute to the pack in any way I can, but not from the position of Alpha.” He held his father’s gaze, unwavering. “If you truly want me to take on that role—if you demand it—I will do it for you, Father.”

An oppressive silence settled over them, stretching out like a taut string. The only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner of the office, each tick marking seconds that felt like an eternity.

Michael shut his eyes, a man grappling with a decision that required the consensus of two distinct identities—the human and the wolf. He had learned, often through painful experiences, to consult the primal instinct that resided within him before making any commitments. The choices made without the wolf’s consent had cost him dearly once; he wouldn’t tread that path again without careful consideration.

When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with the weight of memories. “It is your birthright to be Alpha. It courses through your veins. It defines who we are as a family.”

Leo’s jaw clenched tightly. “It may be my birthright, but it doesn’t define who I am. Being Alpha… it’s not a life of peace. It’s a series of sacrifices I refuse to impose on my children unless I choose that path myself.”

Kathy reached out, closing the distance between them, her hand enveloping Leo’s. Her fingers trembled slightly, imbued with the gravity of the moment. “We raised you to be honest,” she murmured gently. “Not to wear a crown simply because it was expected of you. If being a healer is where you find your purpose, then you will become the finest healer our pack has ever known.”

Michael opened his eyes, a hardened expression etched on his face—an unmistakable residue of regret, of countless nights spent contemplating different choices. He recalled the years when his wolf had howled within him for what had been lost, when pride had morphed into an insatiable hunger. He remembered the mate he had called to him and the life that had slipped through his fingers because of it. In that moment, he felt acutely the cost of allowing bloodlines to dictate what hearts might not desire.

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