The Breaking Point of Mate: Giving Up on My Alpha novel Chapter 90

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“Yes.” Theo smiled, the scent of cedar drifting from him, spreading a presence that was soft yet impossible to ignore. “I’ve taken a keen interest in Mr. Boyd’s company’s recent projects, so I thought I’d stop by and talk.”

As he spoke, his gaze swept across the room.

He clearly noticed that neither Elmer nor I had stepped forward to greet him.

Elmer remained where he stood, his expression calm, betraying no trace of welcome. His pheromones were deliberately suppressed to near imperceptibility–the classic defensive stance of a research–oriented Alpha.

Theo paused, faint surprise flickering across his face.

As Camille and Marvin continued speaking with Alpha Theo, my nose caught another familiar–yet deeply unpleasant–scent approaching.

Daphne.

And beside her, Zara.

Her scent remained as sharp and aristocratic as it had been years ago, carrying a cool detachment that discouraged closeness.

They stopped in front of me.

Elmer glanced at me but said nothing.

I didn’t move.

Daphne studied me, her eyes softening with that familiar tenderness, like an elder attempting to soothe a wayward young wolf.

“Melanie, it’s been a long time.”

I gave no reply. 1

Deep within my mind, Frost released a low growl–alert, edged with faint irritation.

Daphne seemed to expect my silence. She sighed quietly, her voice softer than usual.

“Melanie, you-”

“Melanie.” Zara cut in abruptly.

Her tone remained cool, yet carried a natural authority–like a high–ranking she–wolf standing beneath moonlight, inherently entitled to pass judgment.

“Whatever misunderstandings or resentment you hold toward me concern only you, me, and your mother.” Her gaze rested steadily on my face, composed and controlled. “Marvin, Daphne, and the others have never wronged you. I hope you won’t mistake everyone who cares about you for an enemy.”

Her pheromones drifted outward with her words.

Suddenly, memories from many years ago resurfaced.

Before Marvin severed his bond with my mother, he used to speak of Zara with fire in his eyes.

He said she lived up to her name–coldly beautiful, noble, the pale moonlight he had always longed for.

He said meeting her had taught him what love truly meant.

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Chapter 20

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He said he hoped I wouldn’t inherit my mother’s stubbornness–that I would learn to appreciate the strengths of others.

I had been too young then.

Too young not to crave my father’s approval.

Zara had always treated me with courtesy.

Even kindness, some might say.

Yet her presence always hovered above me–a distance that required no hostility to make a young wolf instinctively retreat.

After all these years, she remained flawless, untouched by time.

So when she spoke now, her words sounded especially sincere.

After all, a high–ranking she–wolf never needs to deliberately humiliate those beneath her.

If conflict arises, it is simply attributed to-

the lower–ranking wolf’s lack of understanding.

Zara continued,

“The conflict between you, your mother, and Marvin will never change how they feel about you.”

I said nothing.

Yet her words ripped open an old wound buried deep in my memory, claws tearing through scar tissue.

I was eight, maybe nine.

When my parents fought over my custody, my mother was already teetering on the edge of a breakdown.

I knew Marvin and Daphne both wanted me to stay.

I loved them too.

And yet, I still chose to leave the pack with my mother.

I couldn’t bear the thought of her falling into darkness alone.

Even so, part of me remained tied to them.

I just never allowed it to show.

I was afraid my mother would sense that hesitation.

A year later, Daphne secretly contacted me. She said she wanted to see me.

I went–hiding it from my uncle.

That day, she brought Camille with her.

She smiled and told me Camille and I were sisters.

She said she hoped I would learn to accept it.

I refused.

She looked at me, sighed, and said I was too much like my mother–too sharp, too rigid.

That was the first moment doubt took root inside me.

C

Chapter 80

Maybe there really was something wrong with me.

The memories surged like wounds torn open all over again.

That day, when I returned from the restroom, I saw Daphne holding two ice cream cones.

One had been brushed by a waiter’s dirty tray, streaked with grease.

Camille took the untouched one without hesitation.

Daphne simply smiled and ruffled her hair.

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