The Rejected Mate (Elaine and Michael) novel Chapter 80

The walk through the forest seemed to stretch endlessly, each step muffled by the thick carpet of moss beneath their boots. The silence pressed around them, broken only by the soft hum Nathan made as he nestled securely in Darius’s arms, his small fingers clutching at his daddy’s jacket. The mist had deepened, wrapping around them in cool, shifting veils as they ventured farther into Silverblade territory. The familiar scent of pine needles and damp bark filled the air, mingled with faint traces of pack energy that whispered through the trees like echoes of the past.

Sunlight filtered through the canopy in golden shards, catching on floating specks of mist and illuminating the faint smile that ghosted over Elaine’s lips as she glanced around. Every bend in the path, every fallen branch, every glimmer of light through the trees tugged at old memories–memories she had tried so hard to bury. This was the same forest she had walked through all those years ago, when she left the Beta’s suite and sought solitude by the waterfall at the edge of the territory. Back then, the decision had felt like liberation, from the mate she will never have and the family who abandoned her. Now, retracing those same steps, it felt like walking into the past she thought she’d left behind.

Her fingers brushed her side, curling into a fist before falling back to her coat. The tension in her shoulders refused to ease. No matter how deeply she breathed, her chest stayed tight, her pulse quick and unsteady. The forest was too familiar–its earthy scent, the distant call of wolves, the shimmer of old energy that still pulsed faintly in the soil. This was home once.

Her home.

But now it felt foreign, haunted by ghosts of what could have been.

She hadn’t expected to see Michael again—not so soon, perhaps not ever. And certainly not like that.

Her thoughts betrayed her, replaying the moment his eyes met hers. The world had stilled, and for one unbearable heartbeat, everything had shifted. The air had hummed, the bond- the one she thought had died long ago–had stirred again. Subtle, faint… but unmistakable. A thread pulling at her soul, frayed but unbroken.

She had buried that connection, locked it away with all the pain that came with it. Yet now, standing once more on Silverblade land, it thrummed inside her like a whisper that refused to fade.

“Mommy?” Nathan’s small, curious voice broke through the storm of her thoughts. His head lifted from Darius’s shoulder, eyes wide and bright with innocent excitement. “Are we almost there?”

Elaine blinked, forcing her thoughts to settle. She offered him a tired smile, brushing a strand of hair from his cheek. “Yes, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes. We’re almost there.”

Darius’s gaze flickered toward her briefly before he looked straight ahead once more. He hadn’t said much since they left the packhouse. His jaw was tight, his grip on Nathan firm but gentle. The controlled calm in his expression did little to hide the storm that brewed beneath it. Elaine didn’t need to ask what he was thinking; she could feel it through the faint stir of his aura–protective, tense, and quietly furious.

Furious not at her, but at what waited beyond.

At Michael.

At the bond that should have faded but still lingered, defying reason and time.

The path narrowed as they turned down a dirt trail carpeted with leaves. The sound of rushing water grew louder, mingling with the crisp autumn wind. Ahead, half–hidden by the trees, stood a small cabin. Smoke drifted lazily from the chimney, curling into the mist. The scent of rosemary and sage hung in the air–warm, earthy, and comforting. Elaine felt her heart lighten just slightly. The cabin was modest, but it was safe. It was where she’d once found peace after losing everything.

Nathan wriggled in Darius’s arms, excitement bubbling out of him. “I can smell Aunt Rosie’s cooking!” he giggled, nose twitching dramatically.

Darius’s lips twitched into the faintest smile. “You have your mother’s nose,” he murmured, setting the boy down gently as they reached the clearing.

Elaine exhaled slowly, her hand brushing Nathan’s hair. “We’re here,” she whispered, her voice carrying a weight that even Nathan seemed to sense.

But her son was already off before she could stop him, racing toward the porch with the endless energy only a six–year–old could possess. “Aunt Rosie!” he called, voice ringing brightly through the forest, laughter trailing behind him like sunlight breaking through clouds.

The door swung open before he could reach it. Roselyn stepped out, wiping her hands on a towel, her auburn hair catching the faint light. The moment she saw Nathan, her face broke into a radiant smile. “Nathan!” she exclaimed, crouching just as he barreled into her arms. Goodness, I missed you, little wolf!”

Nathan laughed, hugging her tight. “I missed you too, Aunt Roselyn! Mommy said you need us here. Do you need my help aunt Rosie!”

Roselyn chuckled softly, brushing his hair back from his forehead before glancing up. Her gaze met Elaine’s across the clearing, and for a moment, neither woman spoke. The distance between them seemed filled with all the words they hadn’t said, the nights spent worrying and waiting.

Then Roselyn’s expression softened. Her eyes shimmered, and she stepped forward, voice barely above a whisper. “You came.”

Elaine swallowed the lump rising in her throat, managing a small nod as she approached. “I told you I would.” Her voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed her exhaustion. When she reached Roselyn, she pulled her into a tight hug–the kind that carried both relief and the love for her.

Roselyn held her for a long moment before pulling back slightly, her eyes scanning Elaine’s face with quiet concern. “You look tired,” she murmured. “Come inside. You both need rest.”

Elaine nodded, glancing briefly toward Darius, who lingered near the treeline, his gaze still scanning the perimeter like a sentry. “We have a lot to talk about,” Elaine said softly, her voice low enough that only Roselyn could hear. “But not now.”

Her eyes flicked toward Nathan, who had already wandered toward the porch railing, peering curiously into the distance. The meaning in Elaine’s tone was clear: When he’s asleep.

Roselyn gave a small, understanding nod. “Later,” she agreed quietly. “Tonight.”

As the forest wind swept around them, carrying the sound of the waterfall in the distance, Elaine felt the faintest sense of calm begin to settle. For the first time in years, she wasn’t running. But peace–she knew–was only temporary. The ghosts of Silverblade were stirring again, and before the night was over, she would have to face them all.