Page 6 of Rejected by My Shadow Alpha (Mate to the Fallen #1)

Drew

The burner phone vibrated twice on the wobbly cabin table, its glow the only light in the darkened room. I didn't flinch. I had been waiting.

Sliding my hand over the cracked screen, I answered. "Talk to me."

"Location's secure," Jay's voice crackled through the speaker, his tone brisk. "Upstate. Off the grid. No prying eyes. Coordinates sent."

I exhaled slowly, nodding even though he couldn't see me. "Any heat on the decoy?"

"Nothing. Local cops chalked it up to reckless driving. Your ID, the ring, and a scorched corpse were left behind. Alpha Alfred's network bought it, hook, line, and sinker. News of your death is spreading like wildfire. You're officially ashes, Alpha."

Good. That meant I had a little time and a sliver of breathing space. "Thanks, Jay. You did good."

"You sure about this, Alpha? It's not too late to pull out. We can regroup and strike differently."

I stared out the window, where tall trees stood like domineering figures in the dark. "No. This is the only way now."

I had to lie low for close to two months before faking my death. I had been running from one location to the other, but Alpha Alfred's Pack had been on my trail and chasing me around. My death would quieten things down.

Jay was silent for a beat. Then he said, "Stay sharp. I'll check in tomorrow."

The call ended. I slid the phone into my coat pocket and stepped out of the cabin, closing the creaky door behind me.

The place was barely livable, but it had four walls, a roof, and the kind of isolation I needed.

I watched the tall trees, surrounded by chirping birds.

For the first time in weeks, I could breathe without glancing over my shoulder.

Making it dramatic had been the only way to disappear. Alpha Alfred's men had been relentless after I marked her. I had counted six tail jobs in two days. I had to kill the last three to stay ahead. I knew how he worked. He didn't forgive, and he definitely didn't forget.

The fire, the wreck, it all came back to me in vivid detail.

Four Weeks Ago…

The night I disappeared, fog coiled along the edges of the Palisades Parkway like a living thing.

The road was deserted, flanked by dense woods and layered in ice and snow.

It was the perfect grave. My hands were steady on the wheel, but my heart thrashed like a caged animal.

The chill outside did nothing to numb the burning inside me.

They had gotten too close. Alfred had unleashed every shadow in his arsenal to take me down. Three of his men were already dead by my hand, but they kept coming, like ghosts of my past.

Marking Ruby was a mistake. Marking her had destroyed my cover.Alfred saw it as the ultimate insult—a lone wolf defiling his daughter. My death warrant was signed the moment I bit into her skin.

I had no choice. I had to vanish.

I pulled over at the top of a hill that looked down into a deep, forested ravine.

The body in the trunk, one of Alfred's dead wolves, was my ticket out.

I had snapped his neck the night before.

Clean. Precise. I dressed him in my spare jacket, shoved him into the driver's seat, and doused the entire car in gasoline.

The stench was overpowering, but all I could think about was her face.

Her eyes.

I paused with the matchbox in my hand. My heart was thudding. This was it. The end of Drew Cavanaugh. I lit a match, the flame flickering like doubt in the wind.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

To Ruby. To myself. Faking my death meant to stay dead to her, to us. I tossed the match. The explosion ripped through the silence, a violent burst of orange and red lighting up the night like a final goodbye.

I didn't look back.

I shifted into my wolf form and vanished into the trees.

Drew Cavanaugh died that night.

But in this cabin, surrounded by the crackling of old wood and the howling of wind outside, I felt more alive than ever and more haunted. The world believed I was gone.

I wondered if Ruby did too.

Did she cry? Did she scream? Did she throw something at the wall and curse my name until her voice went raw? Or did she sit in silence, staring at the screen, whispering my name like a prayer or a curse? Or worse, did she feel relieved? I wouldn't blame her after what I had done.

The sound of her heels still echoed in my mind. Click. Click. Click. Sharp, angry, and hurried.

Each step was like a blade dragging across my soul, carving her departure into my bones. She had walked away with her spine straight and her heart bleeding. And I let her go.

Goddess, I should've gone after her. Every nerve in my body had screamed at me to stop her, grab her wrist, and say something. But I didn't. I stood there, a coward, stone-cold, watching her walk away like she meant nothing and like I hadn't just tied my soul to hers.

And she turned, her eyes blazing, her voice trembling with pain and fury.

"I hate you."

I flinched then as I flinch now.

The second she was gone, I lost it. Rage poured from me like wildfire.

I destroyed the room. I pushed files from the table and punched the mirror on the wall until blood ran down my knuckles, but none of it hurt as much as the pain I felt within and what I saw in her eyes: betrayal, disbelief, heartbreak.

She had trusted me, and I had torn that trust to shreds. I didn't just reject her. I shattered her. I told myself it was for her own good. That it was to protect her from the war I was fighting, that it was better she hated me than get caught in the crossfire.

But the truth?

I broke her because I couldn't bear to believe she was real.

For a fleeting moment, she made me want something other than revenge, and that terrified me more than anything else.

I hadn't planned to fall for her. She was supposed to be a means to an end and a pawn in the war I'd been waging since the night my pack was slaughtered.

But from the first moment I looked into her eyes, I knew she wasn't a pawn.

She was the whole damn board.

Her presence lit up something in me that I thought was long dead, a warmth I didn't know how to hold.

When she stared at me with those emerald eyes, unguarded and searching, it was like someone opened a window in a room I'd sealed shut years ago.

I tasted peace and warmth when she held me, her hands pulling me into her embrace.

I found myself wanting to lose myself in her warmth and the invitation and promise of a life I didn't deserve.

So, I did what I've always done.

I destroyed it.

The moment I marked her, I knew I had crossed a line.

The moment I rejected her, I told myself it was strength and that I was shielding her.

But deep down, I knew the truth. I wasn't protecting her.

I was snuffing out the only light left in my life before it could show me everything I could never have.

I rubbed a hand over my face, staring into the fire, watching the flames twist like the guilt I couldn't shake. My fingers brushed over the scars on my knuckles. My jaw clenched.

"You deserved better, Ruby," I whispered. "Better than me. Better than a man too broken to choose you over his demons."

But it was too late.

The news was out. Drew was dead. At least, that's what I let them believe. Maybe death was the only thing I could offer now. A clean break and a chance to burn the wreckage behind me. Let the ashes fall where they may.

Still, when I closed my eyes, all I could see was her.

The night I marked her, her soft gasp, the way her fingers dug into my shoulders, and her scent flooded my senses like a drug I'd never recover from. The bond was raw, sacred, and unshakable. Her soul had touched mine, and I threw it away.

Letting the world think I was dead was supposed to free us both. It didn't. The bond was still there, faint, but unbroken.

All that was left was to bring down the man who started it all, not to win her back, but to become someone worthy of facing her again.