Chapter 6 : Rejected Mate Bond (Celeste’s POV) The soft ticking of the clock filled the silence of the room, but my body found no rest. The bed could have been made of feathers or stone—it wouldn’t have made a difference. Sleep didn’t come easy when ghosts of the past clawed at my mind like they lived just beneath my skin. I forced myself upright, brushing the thin blanket off my lap. The air was cold, though not nearly as sharp as Moon Shadow Prison had been, but it still left a chill in my bones. My wolf stirred weakly inside me, a faint, pained whimper echoing in my chest. I ignored it. I couldn’t stay in this room. The walls felt like they were closing in. The pack house was eerily silent at this hour, the time before dawn when the world seemed to forget to breathe. My footsteps echoed softly along the polished floors as I moved as quietly as I could down the hallway. I didn’t need a guide to find my destination. My body moved instinctively, as if drawn there by a pull stronger than my pain. Elder Eleanor’s chambers. The door stood slightly ajar, a sliver of amber light spilling out into the corridor. My chest clenched as I hesitated. Would she be awake? Would she even want to see me? The faint sound of tired breathing reached my ears. It was labored, weak, and yet familiar in a way that made a lump rise in my throat. I stepped inside, each movement careful, deliberate. The room smelled faintly of herbs and faintly of burning candles. The fire in the corner flickered low, casting long shadows across the walls. There she was. My grandmother. Eleanor clutched a thick shawl tightly around her, her once-proud frame diminished by sickness. But her eyes—those golden eyes that had once commanded a pack—still burned with quiet strength. Her gaze snapped to the door, and the moment she saw me, her wolf reacted first. A soft, wounded whine filled the room. My chest tightened at the sound. It wasn’t loud or obvious, but it was filled with years of suppressed anguish, of guilt, of longing so sharp it made my breath hitch. “Celeste,” Eleanor whispered. Her voice cracked, the sound weakened. She tried to push herself upright in her chair, and I rushed forward without thinking. “No—stay seated,” I said, my voice trembling before I could stop it. Her hands reached out anyway, thin and frail but steady. “Let me look at you, child,” she said softly, her tone carrying a weight that made my knees weak. I hesitated, unsure if my pride could handle this moment. But her eyes pleaded with me, and I found myself kneeling by her side, my hand grasped tightly in hers before I could think to resist. “My little one,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. Her thumb brushed over the silver scars on my arm, the faint glow of firelight making the damage unmistakable. “What did they do to you?” My throat felt tight, the words lodged somewhere between my chest and my tongue. “I’m fine,” I managed, though the words sounded hollow even to me. Eleanor’s grip on my hand tightened—not much, but enough to make her point clear. “No, you’re not,” she said, her tone soft but firm. Her eyes searched mine, as if trying to find the Celeste she had once known. I wanted to tell her that girl was gone, erased by time and pain, but the words wouldn’t come. “I fought for you,” Eleanor said, her voice trembling now. “I fought the Alpha King’s council. I nearly lost everything. They said I was wasting my strength on a traitor, but I didn’t care. You’re mine. Do you understand that? You’ll always be mine.” My chest ached, a deep, sharp pain I didn’t know how to process. I nodded slowly, not trusting myself to speak. For a moment, there was silence between us. Just the quiet sound of the fire crackling, and the faint, steady rhythm of her breathing. I squeezed her hand. But the soft peace of the moment didn’t last. The door creaked open, and I turned sharply. Victoria stepped in, her presence as elegant as always, though her green eyes darted nervously around the room as if she were looking for something—or someone—to blame for the unease that lingered in the air. Scarlett followed close behind, the perfect picture of innocence as she moved delicately into the room, her emerald eyes wide and her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders like she had wandered out of a painting. “Good morning, Mother,” Victoria said to Eleanor, her voice carefully measured. Her gaze flicked to me briefly, but she said nothing. Scarlett offered a soft smile, the kind that looked sweet but felt like poison. “Grandmother, I hope we’re not intruding.” If Eleanor was affected by their arrival, she hid it well. Her hand didn’t loosen its grip on mine. “What is it that brings you here so early, Victoria?” Eleanor asked, her tone polite but cool. Victoria hesitated just a fraction of a second before speaking. “We wanted to discuss Scarlett’s upcoming mating ceremony.” My stomach turned at the words, but I forced my expression into one of practiced neutrality. “Alexander and Scarlett make such a perfect match,” Victoria continued, her smile tight. “And with the ceremony approaching, we wanted your blessing…of course.” Eleanor’s sharp gaze shifted slightly to Scarlett, and for a brief moment, her lips twitched downward. “Ah, yes. The union of betrothed wolves,” she said softly, her tone far too neutral to be casual. Her next words were directed at me. “Celeste,” she said, her voice growing sharper. “Does your wolf still recognize him as mate?” The air seemed to grow colder. Victoria stiffened visibly, her body tensing as her wolf bristled just beneath her skin. Scarlett tried to hide her own reaction, but I saw how her hand gripped the edge of her dress tightly, the fabric twisting under her fingers. “No,” I said sharply. The word fell heavily into the silence. I shifted my gaze to Eleanor, forcing steel into my voice even as my wolf stirred uneasily inside me. “My wolf rejected those bonds long ago.” Scarlett’s eyes darted toward me, her expression wide-eyed but calculated. Before anyone could speak, I added, “And I no longer answer to the Winters pack name.” Victoria inhaled sharply, the sound loud enough to be heard. “That’s not something you can simply discard,” Lucas’s voice ground out. I turned sharply, my jaw tightening as he stepped into the room alongside Alexander. Lucas’s wolf surged beneath his skin as he crossed the threshold, his golden eyes narrowing at me. “You’ll always be Winters pack—your blood rights are still recorded in the registry!” A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. The sound echoed sharply in the tense room, filled with nothing but cold derision. “An interesting claim,” I said, my tone dripping with venom. My gaze locked onto him, and I could see the faint flicker of uncertainty behind his anger. “Considering that three days after throwing me into Moon Shadow Prison, Alpha James officially declared to the Alpha King’s council that I held no blood rights to the Winters pack.” The color drained from Victoria’s face. “Keeping me in the registry,” I continued, my voice sharp and unwavering, “would be deceiving the Alpha King himself.” The room descended into stunned silence. Eleanor let out a soft keening sound, her wolf’s distress spilling into the air with a weight I hadn’t felt in all my years of knowing her. Victoria’s lips parted, but no words came out. Her hand shook slightly as she gripped the back of Scarlett’s chair for support. Scarlett’s expression wavered, though she quickly ducked her head to hide the flicker of satisfaction that crossed her features. Alexander, who had remained silent until now, crossed his arms over his chest. His usually cool expression gave way to something sharper, his wolf bristling faintly at his edges. Lucas stood frozen, his golden-green eyes wide with something that almost looked like genuine shock. The weight of it all settled over the room, heavy and unrelenting. Eleanor’s golden eyes turned to me, still burning but softened with something deeper. I squeezed her hand once more, feeling like, for the first time in years, someone saw the depths they’d forced me into.