Page 45 of Rejected Alpha Mate

“Don’t touch me!” I yell, glaring at him ferociously now. “You were the one who said I’m young, called it ‘fun,’ and now you wanna call us fated mates?!” I scoff, exasperated. “Maybe you were right back then…we barely even knew each other, and it was only a fling.”

My heart is racing, and Nicholas doesn’t stop trying to come forward, his hand half-raised, when the air suddenly shifts.

A soft hum fills the space between us—not thunder, not wind, but something alive. The air grows warm, my fingertips tingling, and I look down only to see light gathering in my palms. I gasp, the pale gold spilling across my hands, curling like smoke in front of my face.

My breath catches. “What…what’s happening to me?” I whisper and look up with furrowed brows.

Nicholas stares at my hands, eyes wide but gentle. “It’s your magic,” he says calmly. “But it’s not lashing out. It’s healing.”

“Healing?” My voice trembles. “I’m not healing anything.”

“You are,” he murmurs. “You’re healing yourself.”

My jaw drops just as my eyes do, and the glow expands, rippling across my arms and seeping into my chest. The rage inside me stills, quiets, and the ache dulls. It feels like exhaling for the first time in days, like my body is remembering what inner peace feels like.

My knees wobble, nearly giving out, and Nicholas catches me before I fall. For a moment, I don’t resist. I just breathe against his shoulder, my tears soaking through his shirt as the light fades from my hands.

“I hate you…” I whisper hoarsely, though the words sound hollow now.

“I know,” he says softly, holding me tighter. “And I’m sorry. For everything. For the way I treated you last summer, for not protecting you sooner, for letting my pride destroy what we had before it even began.”

My bottom lip trembles, but I stay quiet. He continues, his voice low and steady against my ear.

“You’re right…We barely know each other. Maybe the bond doesn’t mean what we thought it did. But maybe that’s a good thing.”

I pull back just enough to look at his face, my heart threatening to be cracked open again. “How is that good?” I ask, my frown bordering on disappointment.

“Because it means we can start over. No titles. No fate. No pretending to have it all figured out.” His eyes soften. “We can start as friends.”

The word tastes strange on my tongue. “Friends…?” I echo numbly, to which Nicholas nods as he steadies me on my feet. It’s not a terrible offer, and it aligns with what I said about us being mistaken and not knowing each other much before our heated fling.

“For Dom’s sake,” he adds with a small, almost teasing smile.

That earns him a weak laugh. “He’d murder you if he knew about last summer.”

“Exactly.” Nicholas rubs a hand at his nape nervously when I’m steady on my feet again, and he releases me. “That’s why I’m offering a truce. I won’t bother you, but I will be the friend you need to help you through training. We just won’t tell Dom anything.”

Silence settles between us again, but it’s softer, less heavy. I can still feel the hum of magic in my chest, a faint echo of warmth that reminds me I’m still here, still whole, even with Nicholas’s offer of friendship.

“Thank you,” I say finally, barely above a whisper. “For…understanding. And for apologizing.”

He nods, stepping back just enough to give me space. “We’ll figure it out. Together. But on your terms this time.”

It’s the first time he’s said something I can actually believe.

When he turns to leave, the bedroom feels lighter, but maybe it’s just me. The storm inside me has quieted, even if it’s not completely gone, but it’s tamed enough for me to breathe again.

Nicholas just called a truce for us to be friends, and while that isn’t complicated, my feelings are. A flicker of disappointment is evident in my chest, but it only makes me more determined than ever to focus on my training as a witch.

Nicholas didn’t marry me because he wanted to—he married me for Dominic’s sake. A marriage for convenience, and that means I can’t rely on him to strengthen my powers. I have to become stronger and stand on my own two feet. At least this way, my heart will remain intact if we’re only friends.

Chapter 16 - Nicholas

The house feels quieter these days. Calmer, even.

Since Donna and I called our truce, things have settled into an easy rhythm, a fragile peace, held together by small routines and unspoken rules. Mornings begin with the smell of coffee and toast. Sometimes she’s already in the kitchen when I come out, her hair tied up, sleeves rolled to her elbows, flipping through Delilah’s old grimoire while the kettle hums, only interested in learning about her abilities.

We don’t fight anymore. Not openly, anyway. Our conversations are polite, measured, surface-level exchanges about breakfast or training schedules, small-talk about the weather, and shared silences that somehow say more than words.