Chapter 3
Julia's POV
Nathan stared at me, clearly caught off guard. I could see the calculations behind his eyes—he wanted to be free of our mate bond, but he also hated the idea of me escaping his control.
"You can go to college," he finally said. "But you'll return to the pack after graduation."
"I need complete freedom," I countered. "Including where I work afterward."
"Absolutely not." His voice hardened. "You return after graduation. That's my final offer."
I weighed my options. Four years of freedom might be enough time to figure out a more permanent escape. And I desperately needed to get away from this place, from him.
"Fine," I conceded. "I'll return after graduation."
Nathan nodded, his expression unreadable. "Then we do this now."
He extended his hand, palm up—the traditional start of the rejection ceremony. My heart hammered in my chest as I placed my trembling hand in his. Our skin touched for the first time in years, sending an unwelcome tingle up my arm.
"I, Nathan Reynolds, reject you, Julia White, as my fated mate," he began, his voice formal and emotionless. "I release you from all mate obligations and responsibilities."
The bond between us quivered at his words. Pain bloomed in my chest, sharper than I'd expected. My wolf whined mournfully, but I forced myself to respond.
"I, Julia White, accept this rejection," I said, my voice surprisingly steady despite the tears threatening to spill. "I release you from all mate obligations and responsibilities."
A strange coldness spread from our joined hands throughout my body. The constant awareness of Nathan that had lingered at the edge of my consciousness since my Awakening dimmed, though it didn't disappear entirely.
Nathan dropped my hand as if it burned him. "It's done."
I nodded, clutching my college acceptance letter like a lifeline. "It's done."
Three months later.
I folded a stack of nursing textbooks into my small dorm bookshelf, smiling at the sight of my organized space.
State University's nursing program. I'd actually made it.
I ran my fingers along the spines of my books, feeling a sense of belonging I'd never experienced back home. My small dorm room was nothing special—just standard-issue furniture, two twin beds with one sporting my new blue bedding while the other was already covered with a bright yellow comforter and several stuffed animals.
Two simple desks faced the window, one bare except for my neatly stacked textbooks, the other cluttered with makeup, photos, and what looked like a half-unpacked box of decorative fairy lights. It was only half mine, but even that felt luxurious. No family members barging in with judgmental comments, no pack politics infiltrating every conversation.
No Nathan.
I paused, my hand instinctively moving to my chest where a dull ache still lingered. The formal rejection had severed our bond three months ago, but it had left an echo of pain that never quite disappeared. Kaia remained unusually quiet most days, as if nursing her own wounds.
"Worth it," I whispered to myself, straightening up and surveying my nearly-unpacked belongings. The pain was the price of my freedom, a reminder of what I'd escaped.
Back in Star Shadow, I'd been the freak, the girl obsessed with herbs and healing who wasn't worth a second glance. The girl whose own fated mate had rejected her publicly.
A knock at my door interrupted my thoughts.
"Hello?" A friendly male voice called from the hallway. "First-year move-in check?"
I opened the door to find a tall guy with sandy blond hair and a clipboard. His welcoming smile seemed genuine, nothing like the forced politeness I'd grown accustomed to back home.
"I'm Daniel Wright, the north quad dorm RA for the medical programs," he said, extending his hand. "You must be Julia White?"
"That's me," I replied, shaking his hand. "Just finished unpacking."
"Awesome! How's everything going? Any issues with the room?" He glanced past me, checking the space with what seemed like real concern for my comfort.
"Everything's fine, thanks."
"Great! I wanted to let you know we're having a welcome mixer in the common area at six tonight. Nothing fancy, just pizza and a chance to meet your neighbors." His smile was warm, his gaze direct but kind. "Nursing program, right?"
"Yes," I confirmed, waiting for the usual dismissive reaction I got whenever I mentioned my interest in medicine back home.
Instead, Daniel's eyes lit up. "That's fantastic! We have several nursing students in this building. The program here is really strong." He handed me a campus map and orientation schedule. "The blue section highlights all the resources for nursing students—study groups, tutorial labs, and the simulation facilities."
I accepted the papers, surprised by his enthusiasm. "Thanks."
"No problem. If you need anything at all, I'm in room 112. Welcome to State!" With a final smile, Daniel moved on to the next door.
I closed my door, staring at the papers in my hand. No judgment. No questioning my abilities or interests. Just straightforward information and a heartfelt welcome.
This was going to take some getting used to.
The residence hall common area was buzzing with activity when I ventured downstairs that evening. Students lounged on mismatched furniture, pizza boxes scattered across tables, and the air filled with conversation and laughter.
"Julia!" A voice called out. A petite girl with curly red hair bounded toward me, her energy almost overwhelming. "You're Julia, right? I'm Amber! Your roommate!"
"Oh, hi," I replied, suddenly self-conscious. "Sorry I wasn't there when you arrived."
"No worries!" She linked her arm through mine with an easy familiarity that would have been unthinkable in pack hierarchy. "Come on, I saved us seats with some other nursing students!"
Before I could respond, Amber was pulling me toward a cluster of students near the windows. She introduced me rapidly to a blur of names and faces, all of whom smiled genuinely as they made room in their circle.
"Julia's from Northern California," Amber announced to the group. "Near the redwoods!"
"That's so cool," said a guy named Trevor. "Must be beautiful there."
"It is. Very peaceful." I nodded. At least, the landscape had been. The people were another story.
"So what made you choose nursing?" asked a girl named Lisa, her eyes curious rather than judgmental.
"I've always been interested in healing," I explained, gradually relaxing. "When I was about eight, I noticed this stray dog that kept eating specific plants whenever it seemed sick. I got curious and started watching which herbs it chose. Then one day, I found this injured squirrel with an infected paw. I remembered the plants the dog had eaten, so I gathered some and offered them to the squirrel. I kept feeding it those herbs for three days, and by the fourth day, the infection was completely gone."
I paused, suddenly aware of the wide eyes around me.
"Wait, you seriously healed a wild squirrel when you were a kid?" Trevor asked, leaning forward. "That's incredible!"
Lisa nodded enthusiastically. "That's not just interest, that's like... natural talent. You were basically a tiny forest doctor!"
Everyone laughed, and I found myself smiling at the memory. No one was calling me weird or making fun of my story—they actually thought it was impressive.
"That's amazing," Amber said. "I wish I had that kind of background. My mom's a real estate agent—the closest I got to medicine was when she gave me cough syrup!"
The group laughed, and to my surprise, so did I.
For the next hour, we talked about classes, professors, clinical rotations, and campus life. Not once did anyone call me weird or question my interests. These people wanted to know what I thought, valued what I knew. The realization was both strange and wonderfully liberating.
"Tomorrow's the big welcome ceremony," Amber chattered as we walked back to our dorm building under a star-filled sky. "The dean will talk forever, but then there's this super impressive alumni speaker."
"Oh?" I replied, my mind still processing the evening's easy camaraderie.
"Yeah! Matthew Collins—he's like, insanely accomplished. Graduated in three years instead of four. He started here when he was just sixteen, some kind of prodigy." Amber's eyes sparkled with excitement. "And now at barely twenty, he's already the Alpha of Spring Valley pack in southern Oregon!"
I nearly stumbled on the sidewalk. "He's a—" I caught myself. "An Alpha? Already?"
"Yep! And totally single!" Amber wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Apparently he hasn't found his fated mate yet. Talk about perfect boyfriend material!"
"Sounds impressive," I said flatly. Amber didn't notice my lack of enthusiasm, too caught up in her romantic fantasies about this Alpha she'd never even met.
How could she understand? Just three months ago, I'd been formally rejected by my own fated mate. The last thing I cared about was some prodigy Alpha's relationship status. My new textbooks on advanced pharmacology and patient care ethics sitting on my desk looked infinitely more appealing than any potential romance.
