One Hundred Eight Times Rejected, Never Coming Back

Sunniva's POV

Alpha Geirolf once fought his entire Ulvarr Pack just to mate me.

But Anniken's arrival turned all his sweeping vows to ash.

He let her take over the manor, shatter my mother’s moonstone bracelet, and lock me—burning with a high fever—in the dungeon to be thrown into freezing water.

The biting cold silently stole the baby in my womb. He saw the crimson pooling on the floor, yet turned his back to comfort that woman and her fake tears.

And on the 108th time I handed him the rejection papers, he finally snapped our mate bond...

—

"Geirolf, this is the 108th time."

I slammed the papers onto the ebony table in the Pack Hall. "Sign the rejection agreement."

"Are you ever going to stop?!" He crushed his silver goblet with one bare hand. His Alpha aura exploded, draining the color from everyone’s faces. "I told you, the pipes in Anniken’s apartment burst. She’s only staying for a few weeks!"

"Staying?" I stepped closer, my voice trembling from the sheer humiliation. "Wearing my custom silk nightgowns, taking over my master suite, leaving her perfume on our bed—you call that 'staying'?"

"Geirolf, please don’t fight because of me..." Anniken peeked out from behind him, her eyes shining with tears, her voice fragile enough to break. "Maybe I should just sleep on the streets tonight. The Luna clearly doesn't want me here."

"You aren't going anywhere!" He pulled her protectively into his arms and glared at me. In his eyes, there was absolutely nothing left of the man from three years ago.

Three years ago, to marry me, he defied the pack’s threat to strip his heirship. He knelt on a cliff in a blizzard for three days just to put his eternal mark on my neck.

The first time I handed him rejection papers, he fell to his knees, clutching my legs, his voice broken: "Sunniva, please don't leave me. It's just for show, you’re the only one in my heart." By the 50th time, he just ripped off his tie, snapped, "Stop being unreasonable," and didn't come home all night. Today, the 108th time, there was nothing but disgust and impatience in his eyes.

"Sign it." Ignoring the whispers of our pack members, I slapped a pen against his chest.

"Pathetic." He swatted my hand away. "Trying to force my head down with this trick? You’re acting like a lunatic!"

But then, out of pure spite, he snatched the papers and scrawled his name.

A second later, he stepped onto the dais. Ignoring my deathly pale face, he announced to the entire Pack:

"I, Geirolf Silverpelt, Alpha of the Ulvarr Pack, hereby sever the mate bond with Sunniva Bracken. I reject you."

It didn't feel like pain. It felt like someone had reached barehanded into my chest and violently ripped out the soul-deep tether between us. Before I could even make a sound, I spat a mouthful of black blood onto the marble floor.

"Sunniva—" Someone gasped.

My knees crashed to the ground. In the final second before darkness consumed me, the last thing I saw was Geirolf's retreating back, his arm wrapped around Anniken’s shoulders.

The smell of alcohol pulled me back to reality.

VIP ward, Ulvarr Hospital. The hollow void left by a forcibly severed mate link kept my body violently shivering. It wasn't cold on the skin; it was freezing from the bone marrow out.

Voices drifted from outside the door.

"Thank God, the results are in! It's just normal palpitations. The doctor says you can go home and rest." It was Geirolf. Clear, steady, and so obviously relieved.

Anniken hummed softly, then deliberately lowered her voice with feigned concern, "Geirolf... Sunniva threw up so much blood. Are you really not going in to check on her?"

"Let her be," he replied without a second of hesitation. "It's just a trick for pity. She can't live without me. Give it three days tops, she won't be able to handle losing her Luna title and will come crawling back on her knees."

Their footsteps faded away.

Anniken just had "palpitations," yet he personally escorted her to the hospital to make sure she was okay. We were in the same hospital, in the exact same hallway, but he never even opened my door to look at me once.

I didn't shed a single tear. The moment he severed our bond in front of the pack, my heart had burned to ashes.

Feeling nothing, I ripped the IV needle from the back of my hand, leaving a bloody trail across my skin.

Taking out my phone, I dialed a number in Clar City.

Two rings, and it picked up.

"Halle," my voice was much calmer than I expected. "Book me a flight to Clar City. I'm leaving in three days."

Dead silence for three seconds—followed by a burst of uncontainable joy: "Say less! Honey, you should have done this ages ago!"

Hanging up, a sudden wave of nausea made me cover my mouth.

There was still one thing I needed to double-check. Since I was leaving, I needed to leave with total clarity.