The Mate and The Mark

8. Not Yours. Not Yet.

Y/N P.O.V

"Jake, it's not my fault."
I can hear the desperation in my own voice and I hate it.
"Hell, it wasn't my choice. I didn't ask to be mated to Kai—it's fate."

His face is close. Too close.
I can feel the heat off him. Smell the sharp, possessive scent of his wolf rising under his skin.

"You don't even know what fate is," he growls. "God, you really think it just works like that?"

His words hit, but not as hard as the way he says them.
He's furious. But not cruel.
Hurt.

"You're so simple-minded," he snaps, voice trembling with everything he's held in for too long. "You're so much more than you know, Y/N."

And then he jerks back—shoves himself off the tree, off me, and storms into the trees.

I don't know how to answer him.

Not because I don't want to. But because I can't.

Because I don't know anything anymore—not what I'm feeling, not what's right, not even who I'm supposed to be when I look in the mirror and see someone caught between two lives, two wolves.

I open my mouth.

Then close it.

The silence between us is almost louder than the argument was.

He doesn't look back.

I stay five steps behind the whole time.

And when the trees finally clear and our home comes into view, I realize—

This isn't over. Not even close.

The house appears between the trees like a memory I'm not ready to relive.

Jake walks ahead of me, his shoulders tight, his silence louder than any goodbye. He doesn't glance back—not once—as he disappears through the front door like he never left it.

I stay still for a moment.

Just long enough to let the weight of coming back settle into my chest.

This is supposed to be home.

So why does it feel like stepping onto a stage?

"Hey guys," I murmur, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

A few heads turn. There's a beat of stillness—no cheers, no relief, just eyes. Watching.

It feels like I'm on trial.

Then—

Arms. Warm. Familiar.

"Oh, thank god," Elira breathes, pulling me in tight, face pressed to my shoulder.

Chest to chest. A full-bodied exhale.

She pats my hair gently, like she's grounding both of us.

"What happened? Why are you back?"

Her eyes scan me—quietly panicked—like she's searching for bruises she can bandage with her bare hands.

I swallow. "Jake... brought me back. By force."

Her arms don't drop, but her expression shifts.

Riven doesn't say a word, but I see it—his jaw tightens. His eyes narrow toward the house where Jake vanished. That silence says more than a thousand arguments ever could.

"Come inside," Elira says, voice too soft for the version of her I've always known. The strength I admired in her seems cracked, reshaped by worry. Is this what I did to her?