The day before the Lunar Gala, Eric pulled me aside and said, Tomorrow at the ceremony, I want to reject you as my mate. You’ve already been rejected twice a third time shouldn’t scare you, right? I had been rejected by two werewolves before him.

Before Eric and I ever got together, I’d explained it all to him. The first time was Blake my childhood best friend. He was competing for the Beta position and needed a high-status mate to shore up support. I paused, then continued. The second was Alan. He was the one who saved my life, and he needed a mate of noble standing to deflect an arranged mating from a rival pack.

I’m descended from werewolf royalty. All I had to do was say yes, and I could help them. Once their crises passed, I let them reject me to end things cleanly. I held out my wrists, showing Eric the two scars leaf-shaped burns left behind by moonlight the moment each rejection was spoken.