Chapter 7: Rejection Symptoms

Ragnor's POV

The image lingered in my mind—a small, fragile figure that stood defiant even when she had no right.

Valkyrie.

Her reckless actions grated on me. How could someone so insignificant invite so much trouble?

A knock disrupted my thoughts.

“Alpha,” Gamma Dwayne’s voice came before the door opened. He entered, his expression tense.

“What is it?” My tone was clipped, betraying my exhaustion. My body felt strangely weak, a heaviness that was uncharacteristic.

“You don’t look well,” Dwayne remarked cautiously.

“I need rest. Handle anything else yourself.” I waved him off, turning toward the chair by the window.

“Alpha, the Madam is here.”

I paused mid-step. Of course, she would come. She always appeared when I least wanted company.

“Let her in.”

The door opened wider, and my mother stepped in, her heels clicking against the stone floor with deliberate precision. Her eyes immediately scanned me, narrowing when they caught sight of the faint cut across my cheek.

“You’re bleeding,” she noted, her hand reaching out to inspect it.

I stepped back, keeping my expression neutral. “It’s nothing, Mother. A mere scratch.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t argue. Instead, her gaze turned calculating. “I’ve heard whispers… about the servant girl.”

I didn’t respond. Silence was often the best defense against her probing.

“She’s your mate?” she pressed, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“Her name is Valkyrie,” I said, my tone even but cold.

“Names won’t change her station, Ragnor. She is—was—a servant, nothing more.”

“Do not speak like that, Mother. That's not pleased to hear,” I said quietly, my gaze fixed on hers.

She raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, so it’s true. And yet, I hear you’ve rejected her. A wise decision. The pack deserves better than a mate who cannot stand at your side.”

I folded my arms, maintaining my composure. “With all due respect, I make decisions for this pack, not you.”

“Perhaps,” she allowed, though her tone remained sharp. “But the rejection ceremony tomorrow will ensure the matter is put to rest. Then we can proceed with Tasya—”

“I will choose my own mate, Mother,” I interrupted, my voice firm but respectful.

Her smile faltered, replaced by a steely expression. “You are the Alpha, but your responsibility is to the pack, not to your whims. Tasya will strengthen our alliances. This is not a debate.”

I held her gaze, letting the silence stretch. “Mother, I’ve already made my position clear.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Do you know why the Moon Goddess spared me during the Great Battle? Why I survived when others fell?”

“It’s not my place to question the Goddess,” I replied evenly.

“She spared me to protect this pack, to protect YOU! To ensure it didn’t crumble under the weight of your grandfather’s madness. You inherited his strength, Ragnor, but also his flaws. Valkyrie—that girl! We only need her for your healing, not to be your mate!”

I inhaled sharply, my patience wearing thin. “Enough, Mother. Please... let me rest.”

The name Valkyrie echoed in my mind, a whisper that refused to quiet. How many times had I allowed her to be used? To endure the weight of this family's demands?

I would not let it continue, not after my reign as Alpha.

Mother’s piercing gaze lingered, studying me as though she could see the cracks forming beneath my cold exterior. Then her hand shot out, her icy palm landing on my forehead. I stiffened at the touch.

“Your face is flushed. Oh, my goodness!” Her voice turned shrill, and she stepped back with a dramatic gasp. “You’ve got a fever! The rejection symptoms, Ragnor. You're weak.”

The words hung in the air, chilling and heavy.

Rejection symptoms?

The ache in my chest, the fatigue pulling at my limbs—it all made sense now.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice colder than before, though it betrayed the faintest hint of unease.

Her lips twisted into a cruel smile. “It’s common, my dear boy. After rejecting or being rejected, the bond takes its toll. Valkyrie must be suffering too.” She laughed—a hollow, joyless sound that churned my stomach. “I wonder how she’s faring. Poor thing.”

The thought of that little girl struck me like a dagger.

Valkyrie. Suffering.

I had been too consumed with my own torment to consider hers. The mere idea of her enduring this pain—a girl so fragile she could barely stand against the world—was unbearable.

“Gamma!” I barked, and Dwayne appeared at once, his expression alarmed at my tone.

“Yes, Alpha?”

I lowered my voice, leaning toward him as I gave the order. “Send a doctor to Valkyrie immediately. Make sure she is tended to.”

He hesitated, his brows furrowing in confusion, but he bowed swiftly. “At once, my lord.”

As he disappeared, Mother’s sharp gaze followed him.

“What have you done?” she demanded, her voice laced with suspicion.

I straightened, my expression unreadable. “I called the doctor to attend to me. Surely, you wouldn't deny your only son the care he requires?”

Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing, watching me with that unnerving scrutiny she always wielded.

“Good,” she finally said, turning on her heel. “Weakness doesn’t suit you, Ragnor. Remember that.”

As the door clicked shut behind her, I exhaled, my chest tightening further. Weakness didn’t suit me? Perhaps not. But weakness wasn’t the pain I felt—it was the knowledge that Valkyrie was enduring this alone, and I had been the one to cast her into the fire.

My hand clenched into a fist as I sank into the chair. I would not allow this to go on. Whatever the cost, I would ensure that Valkyrie survived.

The fever burned hotter, my vision blurring at the edges. And as my world began to tilt, a single thought echoed through the haze:

She must be suffering more than I ever will.

I shoved the thought aside, willing myself to focus. She was no longer my concern—or so I tried to convince myself.

But then, a hesitant knock shattered the silence.

“What is it now?” I asked, irritation creeping into my tone.

The door creaked open, and there she was.

Valkyrie.

She stood there, pale and unsteady, her eyes dull and lifeless.

“What ... are you doing here?” I asked in disbelief, masking the unease that stirred in my chest.

Her lips parted as if to reply, but then she faltered, gripping the doorframe for support.

“I didn’t… know where else to go,” she whispered.

I clenched my jaw, my gaze hardening. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Before I could say more, her knees buckled.

Without thinking, I moved, catching her before she hit the ground. Her body was alarmingly light, her skin cold against my hands.

For a moment, I stared down at her, my grip tightening involuntarily. Then, with a grim expression, I carried her to the bed, placing her down carefully.

“Gamma!” I barked, and Dwayne appeared almost instantly.

“Bring the doctor. Now!"

He hesitated for the briefest moment before nodding and disappearing down the hall.

I turned back to Valkyrie, my heart... I couldn't even describe it but the tense was so real. She was nothing to me—a mistake I had already corrected.

And yet, as I watched her pale, trembling form, I couldn’t shake the tightening in my chest.

A soft groan escaped her lips, and I found myself leaning closer despite myself.

"Alpha, the doctor is on the way!" Dwayne’s voice cut through the silence, but I didn’t turn.

Instead, my gaze stayed fixed on her.

Why did she always make everything so complicated?