Rejecting the Mating Bond

TAMARA.

I was submerged in a deep sleep, the kind where the world fades away and your body becomes a canvas for dreams. I tossed and turned, limbs sprawled across the plush mattress, stretching my arms high above my head and yawning with the unrestrained enthusiasm of a hibernating bear just emerging from its winter slumber. Yes, I'm fully aware that I probably look quite unattractive while in the throes of such profound sleep, a tangled mess of limbs and hair, but honestly, who cares? When my nanny's insistent knocking echoed through the room, I instinctively burrowed deeper under the covers, choosing to ignore her summons as I typically did. It was far too early for any form of human interaction, especially since I had the glorious gift of a school-free day.

But, as was often the case, my nanny's persistence knew no bounds. She barged through the door, her footsteps heavy and resounding, like a miniature dinosaur on a rampage. With a swift, unceremonious yank, she ripped the blankets away, exposing my vulnerable, sleep-addled form to the shocking chill of the morning air. *Seriously? No school today, so what in the universe could possibly be so incredibly important that she felt the absolute necessity to drag me from the warm embrace of my bed?* I grumbled internally, gritting my teeth against the rising tide of annoyance. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, desperately clinging to the pretense of sleep, hoping she would take the hint and retreat.

With a frustrated huff, I finally succumbed to the inevitable, hopping out of bed with a theatrical groan. "What the hell? Can't you see I'm sleeping? I'm not a helpless pup anymore! I swear, I'll tell Mom about your incessant badgering!" I roared, the remnants of sleep clinging to my voice, making it sound even more childish than I intended. The threat, however, felt hollow even as I uttered it. *Mom, seriously? What good would complaining to her possibly do? She's perpetually engrossed in her own world, and if she even spared a moment to acknowledge my complaint, it would likely result in a lecture directed at me.*

My nanny merely shrugged, a knowing smirk playing on her lips, as if my outburst was nothing more than a predictable morning ritual, my words devoid of any real weight. Despite her intrusive methods, I truly adored her. My mother, a prominent figure in the werewolf community, was constantly consumed by her social circle, attending endless gatherings with other influential businesswomen and Alpha females. My father, the esteemed Alpha of our powerful pack, was a perpetually absent figure, either traveling abroad on business or immersed in the complex affairs of the pack and his various enterprises. My nanny was the sole constant in my life, the only one who genuinely cared for me, the one who had raised me, nurtured me, worried over me, and patiently listened to all my teenage woes and whispered secrets. A pang of guilt pierced through my irritation. I knew I shouldn't yell at her; she was, after all, the only one who truly listened, offering a comforting ear and unwavering support.

*But she's still incredibly annoying sometimes,* I mumbled under my breath, contorting my face into a pathetic puppy-dog expression, ashamed of my childish outburst. Thankfully, her heart was as vast as her patience, and she always forgave my transgressions, no matter how unreasonable.

"I'm so incredibly sorry, I'm just so irritable because—" I stammered, the apology catching in my throat. I felt genuinely awful for snapping at her, but the words seemed to evaporate before I could fully articulate them. Her warm, reassuring smile, as always, offered a glimmer of hope, a silent promise of forgiveness.

She closed the distance between us, her hand gently ruffling my hair, her eyes filled with a familiar affection. "It's perfectly okay, sweetheart. Just wake up. Your father and your mother are waiting for you downstairs." Her simple statement had the effect of a lightning bolt, rendering me speechless, utterly dumbfounded. A gathering? This early? With both my parents present? It was unheard of.

I mentally shook myself, attempting to dispel the lingering fog of sleep, clearing my throat and shaking my head slowly from side to side as if trying to physically dislodge the disbelief. "Huh? A gathering at this ungodly hour? That's truly extraordinary!" I gasped, my heart beginning to pound against my ribs, a nervous flutter erupting in my stomach. I strained my memory, searching for the last time we had all gathered for a meal, breakfast or dinner, but the memory eluded me. It had been so long. They were perpetually busy, their lives a whirlwind of meetings, engagements, and responsibilities. I often resorted to asking my nanny to join me for meals, simply to avoid the oppressive silence and the gnawing feeling of loneliness that crept in whenever I ate alone, a feeling akin to being an orphan in my own home. They seemed so utterly indifferent to my existence, their attention focused elsewhere. It was a strange, unsettling reality, but one I had reluctantly grown accustomed to over the eighteen years of my life.

She shrugged, her hand lightly tapping my head once more. "And your elder sister, Julia, is here as well. So, it would be in your best interest to hurry and put some clothes on. And I've told you repeatedly, don't sleep naked! You're a young woman now! Even if you are sleeping alone in your room, maintain some decorum! Be a decent young lady! You are not the daughter of a maid; you are the daughter of the Alpha and hail from one of the wealthiest, most respected royal werewolf families in the entire world!" she lectured, her gaze intense, her words a familiar refrain. She launched into her typical nagging, a well-worn path she often trod. *Oh, God, give me strength.*

"Okay, okay, I understand. I'll be down in just a second," I mumbled, nodding my head in acquiescence. I secretly hoped she would finally take her leave, allowing me to steal a few more precious moments of sleep, but luck, as usual, was not on my side. Her eyes remained fixed on me, sharp and unwavering, practically burning holes through my skin. Waves of barely suppressed anger radiated from her, her face flushed with a fiery hue.

"What? You're still here?" I questioned, my voice laced with incredulity. She crossed her arms over her chest, her expression one of disapproval. "I have explicit instructions to stay. Your father was crystal clear about that! He commanded me to personally ensure you got out of bed and drag you downstairs if necessary," she informed me, the sternness of her words slightly undermined by the small grin that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Sometimes, I felt utterly lost when attempting to decipher the nuances of her facial expressions. It was genuinely challenging to discern whether she was genuinely angry or merely amused, her unique grin unlike that of any other wolf I knew. I had to admit, though, she was the only person in the world who could tease and provoke me with such effortless ease.

Yes, I was undeniably the unruly, rebellious member of the family, the one who consistently flouted the rules, constantly testing boundaries, and perpetually being punished for my transgressions. But it was a part of who I was, woven into the fabric of my being, and I highly doubted I would ever truly change.