Brutally Rejected: A Rejected Mate Werewolf Romance, page 1
Brutally Rejected:
A Rejected Mate Werewolf Romance
Betty Levy
Copyright © 2022 by Betty Levy
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter One
Ella
Chapter Two
Ella
Chapter Three
Connor
Chapter Four
Ella
Chapter Five
Ella
Chapter Six
Connor
Chapter Seven
Ella
Chapter Eight
Ella
Chapter Nine
Ella
Chapter Ten
Connor
Chapter Eleven
Ella
Chapter Twelve
Ella
Chapter Thirteen
Connor
Chapter Fourteen
Ella
Chapter Fifteen
Connor
Chapter Sixteen
Ella
Chapter Seventeen
Connor
Chapter Eighteen
Ella
Chapter Nineteen
Connor
Chapter Twenty
Ella
Chapter Twenty-One
Connor
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ella
Chapter Twenty-Three
Connor
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ella
Chapter Twenty-Five
Connor
Chapter One
Ella
The thick pulse of my racing heart ripples in waves around my svelte body. It’s so loud it sounds like claps of thunder. I whip my head around every few seconds, looking for them.
I break into a rhythmic jog, the underbrush of crumpled leaves crunching underfoot. If I don’t run, they’ll catch me. Somehow, despite taking alternate forest routes, they always seem to track me.
I can’t let them catch me this time.
I’m a damn quick runner, but when they corner me, I’m helpless. It’s five to one. Bad odds by anyone’s standards. They’re too powerful as a group, and I can’t take the pain anymore.
I stride forward; feels good to stretch my legs out. I scale fallen logs deep in the woodland of Hunter Forest, but I’m only a couple of miles from pack headquarters. If I can make it past the clearing, I’ll be home free.
Tiny beads of sweat coat my brow, and my thick golden braid isn’t holding tight. I swing my head around swiftly. A sharp, acute pain shoots down my forearm, and I call out.
“Shit!” A protruding branch snags against my arm, raising a superficial wound and opening the flesh. Minor, but enough blood for Thorn to track me, and then…
I shake off the pain, knowing I’m a quick healer, pushing forward; my lungs are burning from exertion. This will be the first time I’ve made it back from school without interference. Sucking in deeply, I scooch down, dipping under an elongated tree branch. I look back once more. Bad fucking move. Massively. I hit a brick wall in front, my face squishing against a hard, muscular chest. I rebound off, landing with a sickening thud on my backpack.
Oof.
A swirl of nausea washes through my stomach. My eyes widen as I look up at him, fear breaking my body into involuntary shivers. His eyes. They’re the worst. Two black holes of pure carnal evil. Thorn is the one pack member I desperately avoid, yet I’m the pack pariah. I gulp hard, heat flushing my cheeks. His arms are crossed, his ebony hair flopping over his right eye. Farah - his evil bitch girlfriend stands with her bone straight, hair the color of a raven, and skin white like snow, side by side with him. Three others, Max, Alastair, and Silver, round out his vicious gang.
“Hey, Nerdo. Whatcha running for? Scared of the dark?” Thorn taunts.
I brush off the leaves, some of them sticking to the fresh wound on my forearm. “Shut up, Thorn, and leave me alone. Just fuck off,” I snarl, knowing my weak verbal defense won’t stand up.
Thorn’s expression shifts to darkness as I attempt to get on my feet. At least he gives me that grace. “What did you say? You’re getting cocky, bitch,” he spits, his jaw flexing in and out.
He pushes me in the chest with force as I face my head forward, scuttling sideways. There’s light, dim, but enough for me to see my way to it. I think I can run.
“Thorn, what is your problem? Why won’t you leave me alone? Honestly!” I protest in vain.
The pack sneers as Farah-evil bitch face mimics me. “Why won’t you leave me alone, Thorn? Wah, wah, wah. Shut up. How the fuck you’re heir to the Moon Hunter throne is beyond me. Your mother’s dead anyway; you should join her, you scraggly dog,” Farah states coldly, her envious eyes scorching my skin.
Thorn walks in step with me, his dirty, dark energy ruining my chance for escape. I hold on tight to the edges of my backpack for false security, the pain of Farah’s comment cutting deep.
My mother’s dead. The only one who cared about me at all. The Dark Eclipse killed her senselessly years ago. A piercing chill rips through the fabric of my heart chamber. One and a half miles to go, I know, because I’ve marked my favorite Red Oak tree with a pale pink ribbon as an encouragement marker. One that lets me know no matter how many times my own blood tries to leave me at death’s door, I can crawl home.
Thorn juts out his elbow, knocking me forward. I stumble on a pebble. How’d that get there? Max and Alastair laugh, but I recover, quickening my pace, hurtling forward.
“She’s right. You’re not strong enough to run the Moon Hunter pack. You think by going to school, you’re going to impress the elders? Face it, nobody cares about you here. You must be adopted,” he hisses. I drop my head, tendrils of my hair sticking to my forehead.
Damn, it’s too hot in this forest. Isn’t it supposed to be coming into winter?
A thing happens to my body. It turns into a heat pack, no matter what the weather, when I’m on the verge of attack. I wish I knew what causes it. Kind of irritating, but at the same time, I think it helps me in healing so quickly. I’ve always had a smart, rebellious mouth. Can’t help it. Sometimes syllables just drift out of my mouth, and I can’t stuff them back in. This is one of those times.
“Are you jealous, Thorn? Didn’t you fail your mid-terms?” I stab at him, taking the one shred of dignity I have left and using it against him.
“Shut up, bitch!” he curses as Silver stifles a laugh. “Silver, fuck off.” Shards of dimmed daylight seep through.
Steps closer. Better than none. Keep him talking, redirect his energy. There’s still daylight. I adjust my fingers around my backpack, ready to run. Thorn obstructs my path, blocking me off from running. It’s too late to level myself out. I hit the ground to wicked rounds of laughter.
“On the ground where you belong. You can’t run the Moon Hunter pack. You haven’t got the right blood. You’re not even a full fucking wolf,” he shouts, his booted foot smashing down on the back of my spine. My face meshes into the fresh sludgy mud, a hot, searing pain shooting through my back. I wail out loud from the pain. I can’t help it.
He’s broken my spine. I heard it crunch. Must be broken.
Right blood? I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about. I never have. He never answers when I ask him. I’m doomed. Utterly cursed and eternally doomed. Yep, that’s me. Only keeping my head in my books has saved me.
Great, broken bones right before my birthday. Just what I need.
“And stay down, bitch, before I snap your arm in two places,” Farah compliments. Yes, that’s a compliment from the dark, evil one. Closest thing I’ll ever get from the likes of her.
I stay face down, not daring to move. The pain is excruciating, and I sob. Why don’t they want me in the pack? Why are they treating me like this?
I asked my father too, amongst other things. “Thorn is horrible to me. I need your help. He bullies me, sometimes, he hurts me physically. Can’t you get him and his crew to stop? Why do they keep calling me impure? I’m a Moon Hunter, like everyone else here!” I would plead. He would look over at me with the same tired, barren stare he’d adopted since my mother’s death. My father, Roman - the astute, conservative businessman, and alpha pack leader of the New Jersey Moon Hunters, condoned violence, which was ironic since we were at constant loggerheads with The Dark Eclipse Pack.
“It’s a rite of passage. At your current level, I don’t think you have what it takes. You’re heir to the throne. You need to start acting like it, Ella. I suspect Thorn will lay off you once you shift.” Then he would avert his eyes to the paperwork, hoping to dissipate my presence. Since my mother’s death, he’s shunned me, and I don’t know exactly why. Maybe it’s because I have her refined nose or her bow-shaped lips. Either way, I’m in as much pain as him, if not more, but he can’t see…
I sob, face in the mud. I ball up my fists, crying in frustration, rage, sorrow, and whatever dark emotion there is.
Dusk drops its violet curtain over the forest corridor, and any light I’ve been searching for to move towards is gone. I wiggle my hips, checking if my spinal cord is still intact. Yes, but these incredible spikes of unbearable pain laye
I’m not sure I can rise, but I know I have to. The only saving grace I have is that I’m going to school in New York, away from this cesspool of a pack in New Jersey. I’m counting down the weeks. I pick myself up, my back crunching and tears streaming down my face. My vertebrae are still locked in place. Pulses of heat run through my body, and I feel a ball of hot right around the area Thorn kicked. I don’t get why my body does this, but hey, it seems to work.
To push through the pain and make it the last mile, I think of my sweet, sweet wolf mother. So gentle, so kind, she was a beautiful luminescent pearl and gray wolf, and boy could she run. I want to be like her when I grow up.
Here’s hoping my wolf is some big, snarly gangster that can protect me from the barrage of constant bullying and harassment. My tears dry up as I limp lopsidedly back onto pack grounds. Nobody is out, and there’s a gloomy mist covering the grounds. I make it inside, not even looking to see if there will be a second attack. I headed for the shower, relishing the cascade of hot water over my bruised limbs, particularly my back. In the mirror, there are sunken emerald green eyes staring back at me. On some days, the dejection is too much to bear. I turn to study the crevice of my back aching, but I have a routine for the beating. Into the Epsom salts next and then to the small attic I’ve been relegated to.
After a toss and turn sleep, I wake up moving freely. My mouth opens as I stare in the mirror, bending to touch my toes. “Wow, it’s like it never happened.” I’m as perplexed as everyone else about my healing abilities.
I meander to the kitchen quarters where my father stands. “Morning,” he tosses out.
“You got in later than expected. Extra schoolwork?” Instantly, my belly clinches. Thorn is one of the few wolves of the pack that are granted access to the main quarters of my father’s house. He’s the protégé of my alpha father. Ever since he was a cub, he’s been a bully wolf. My father took a shine to him then, and my mother stopped Thorn from mauling the weaker wolves.
“Ah, leave him Ferna; he’s exerting his dominance. I like the fight. That’s a potential leader of our pack,” he would state proudly.
“No, he’s a pack thug, and that’s not what Moon Hunters promote,” my mother would retort. Looks like my mother won.
Thorn double takes at my upright, healed form. Shock overrides his dominant features. I see the twitch on the side of his mouth. His jaw flexes, but when my father switches his focus to him, he delivers a tight smile to me, not reaching his eyes.
It’s my own mark of revenge in an unexplained way. I’m healed from the physical beating, but mental scars remain. I shiver but hold my arm in close, so Thorn can’t see the terror he invokes in me. My father smiles dutifully, oblivious to the palpable tension.
I cast my emerald eyes downward, opening the fridge, avoiding both at all costs.
“Something like that,” I mumble.
“Hmpf,” he says, and Thorn’s eyes burn a hole of disgust through me.
“Morning, Ella,” he taunts in a sing-song voice.
“Morning Thorn,” I reply in a clipped tone, desperate to get away. A part of me is dying on the inside.
Run, run, move before he follows you to school. You have to catch the bus this morning. Quick!
My rapid-fire thoughts take over, my eyes darting around. I grab a couple of snacks, scuttling out.
“Should be careful walking through those woods; you never know who’s in there,” Thorn says to my back, walking out with my father.
I wish my mother were here to save me. She would have kept me safe…
Chapter Two
Ella
I get through two days without bullying from Thorn and his crew. It’s a minor miracle, but this morning’s pack meeting is set to change all that. I enter the pack hall where meetings are conducted, sitting at the back, rolling my shoulders in, hoping not to be seen.
Wolves of all assortments bustle in, scraping chairs and sitting around the table while some stand. My father, six feet in height, steps up to the podium to speak. The Moon Hunter elders sit closest to him as I observe nervously fumbling with my fingers, waiting for Thorn and his crew to enter.
A couple of Moon Hunters slide in beside me, but I don’t know them well enough to strike up a conversation. Moon Hunters, collectively, are peaceful wolves, but boring to me. Another reason I’ve elected to go to New York. There I can be someone else. I can start with a clean slate.
Other Moon Hunters give me a wide berth as they stare at me like a rogue wolf. Like I’m not one of them. The whispers are constant through the halls, but if I study hard enough, I’m thinking my father will let me take over the business reins of the pack and stay behind the scenes, giving me some reprieve. Thorn bursts through the door with his cruel taskmasters, and I tighten up. He sweeps past the back of me.
“Hey bitch,” Farah lashes out in my ear, whipping my ponytail forward. I push it back, rolling my eyes. A deep ache in my core rumbles as my eyes connect with Thorn’s.
Thorn snickers, his glossy dark tousled mop hanging over his face. Moon Hunter’s close by, saying nothing. “Morning Ella, Bella. Somebody’s birthday soon. Got a treat for ya,” he snorts, gliding past his crew sitting close by.
What the fuck? I wriggle uncomfortably in my seat. A crease forms between Thorn’s eyes. Can he feel what I’m feeling? Heat simmers like boiling water through my veins, wanting to escape the dirty, sexual pull I’m experiencing. His broad shoulders and rippling triceps flexing as he walks suddenly seem appealing. Farah glances backward, her eyes narrowing at my lingering stare. Snapping out of the trance, I gulp, staring forward.
Shit. This is a bad day already. My birthday. A bone of contention for me. Never used to be. If my mother were here, she would have made a cupcake tower for me.
“Happy birthday Ella! You’re five now. You’re so big.” I can hear her melodic voice drifting in and out of my mind sometimes. Roman was different back then, happier, joyful, a smile always on his face. Now we’re like strangers under the same roof. His voice breaks through, catapulting me back to my current reality.
“Take a seat, Moon Hunters. This meeting is going to be relatively quick. We have a few matters of interest for the week. As most of you know, it’s Ella’s birthday on Sunday, and, as per pack tradition, we will organize a shifter party for her eighteenth. All, please be in attendance to support her. The festivities will kick off at four pm and run into the night.” Clare and Susan, who’ve been appointed to the social committee, throw a blank stare my way. Great. Great. I sink down a little lower into the chair. Nobody cared about my birthday before, and now my father’s announcing it in front of everyone?
Thorn claps, and Farah parrots him. “Whoo hoo! Shifter party for Ella,” he calls out sarcastically. His crew joins in the mocking antics, making me feel two feet tall. My father stupidly grins, not understanding their making fun of me.
“Yes, that’s the spirit of the Moon Hunter pack! Excellent Thorn. Other Moon Hunters are puzzled by his outburst, but I’m not. Now we have commercial property investments which…” his voice dulls out after that as I hyperventilate, and the odd tug of attraction to Thorn continues. I can feel him now. Why? Probably a thing that occurs before the shift is that you’re attracted to all males.
I leave, running out to get to school, annoyed that I will have to dress up for Sunday. Two days away…
***
I review the messy bun style I picked up from the internet, thinking it’s enough for the night. I choose a midnight blue dress that I treat myself to with the savings I’ve collected from Jersey Store, a small cafe I’ve worked at for many years. I’ve saved every penny from there, but if I could trade it for a pack friend, I would.
My green, emerald eyes always sparkle, even when in pain. They shine brightly, and my pale skin takes well to a fine coat of makeup. I coat my lips with clear gloss and cut across the courtyard to the pack hall, anticipating the night happenings.
It’s lined with crepe streamers against the wall, and my heart jackhammers through my chest. Everybody’s here, but not a head turns when I enter. I hitch up the bottom of my long dress, scared on so many levels. I know nothing about shifting other than the stories I’ve heard amongst the pack.
