Awakening Rejected Mate - Chapter #4 - Free To Read

Everything happens so fast that my head spins, and I can barely catch my breath. Our imprinting sends the ceremony into quick dispersal, and I’m dragged away by Santo’s pack and ushered into an awaiting car, my clothes thrown in my face and ordered to go to the packhouse and be quiet.

Everything is in uproar as though I committed the crime of the century, and it rippled through everyone present. Juan is exploding magnificently at the possibility that our future Alpha got betrothed to one of the lowliest of the packs, and I’m not exactly happy about it either.

I’ve kept my head down for ten years, stayed out of sight, in the shadows, and away from the drama the way others like me have not. Became almost invisible and made no real friends, all with my eye on the one goal of escaping this place with no noise. Only to be put on show on the most important night of my life, in front of the entire mountain, and have everything come crashing down on top of me.

This can’t be happening! Imprinting is for life; there is only one way out—and that’s death! I can barely breathe as the panic sets in that this is not goddamn reversible and not a tiny thing that can get brushed aside and me sent on my merry way.

That is NOT an option for me. We can choose to walk away and ignore it, but the bond won’t break, and the urge to bind us together will only grow stronger if we fight it. That’s how this works; everyone knows that. If I leave, I’ll crave for him for the rest of my life until it pushes me to insanity or even death from a broken soul. If I stay, I’ll never be able to fight the need to be with him, and Juan made that excruciatingly clear that it will never happen.

I’m bustled from car to dark alley and given only seconds to pull my clothes on under my blanket before I am forcibly pushed in a side door and almost fall flat on my face into a bright hallway. The men charged with bringing me here are being less than hospitable, shoving me around and shoving me cruelly. I feel covered in bruises, and I still have blood residue over my body and face. I ‘ooft’ at the impact of meeting hard floor, body already tired and weak from what I endured tonight.

I’m still reeling from the drugs and the first transformation of my life, on edge, hackles rising, and dealing with this new semi kidnapping trauma. I feel trapped in some sort of daymare and want to wake up before I have an all-out freakout.

A tall, familiar, attractive blonde meets us in the hall as she stalks towards me. Without missing a beat, she slaps me hard across the face and sends me flying off my feet and skidding into the wall. Burning pain engulfs my cheek and eye socket as I groan it out and spreads across my head and down my neck, rendering me senseless for a second. I am slightly dazed with the force of that bitch’s assault as I try to pick myself back up but fail when a foot stomps on my spine to force me back down.

“How dare you! How goddamn dare you, you whore! He’s mine! We have dated for two years, and you think you can sweep in and take him! You are a goddamn nothing, and you have no rights to him!” She’s livid. Puce with rage and comes bearing down on me, climbing on top of me while winding her fingers around my throat like a crazed psycho. I lash back to defend myself in my panic, but she’s bigger and stronger, and the glow of amber in her eyes tells me she’s on the verge of turning.

She’s another of the pack which turned young and has her gifts well under control, while I haven’t even begun to explore mine yet. “I’ll kill you before I see you take him from me.” Her grasp tightens, and I try to claw at her face, struggling for breath, panicking, momentarily blacking out before she is hauled from on top of me by two strong arms and lifted high into the air.

“Enough! She didn’t do this any more than I did!” Colton’s voice cuts through her hysterical squealing, and he drops her on her feet away from me. Standing between her and me as he turns to her and tries to reason and shut her up. His whole body is taut and alert as though he’s ready to take her on, and I’m not sure it won’t go that way. Females, when angry, tend to turn and attack even people they love. It’s how disputes are resolved most of the time among wolves. Physical fights are the norm, even between mates. “Go home, Carmen; let us deal with this. The elders and the Shaman are coming with my father. Just go and let us figure this out.” He sounds pissed, with a deep, commanding tone like his father’s, only with a boyish edge.

“Why can’t they kill her and be done with it? She’s nothing to the pack,” she wails at him desperately, the noise prickling at my ears, so I wince in reaction with an ‘ahh’ and grasp to cover them and wonder if this is a new thing with my senses … hearing things more painfully.

“Are you dense? Killing her will kill me. Hurting her hurts me! Even a slap! We are imprinted; we are one. Her soul, my soul ... did you never pay attention in class?” He sounds as mad as her now, and he throws a look at me crouching on the floor, dazed and in shock about the turn of events. Not mentally ready for any of this.

“Here.” He turns, a softness changing his handsome face slightly, making him more appealing, less cold, and he extends a hand to help me up. It’s the first time I ever saw any real humanity in this guy, and it renders me mute as I let him pull me to my feet. That heat and transference of sparks at his touch makes me jump, and that familiar urge and need for more of him, his touch, makes me pull my hand away quickly. Internally bristling and inhaling fast to cool the sudden heat that rides up my neck and face. Blushing, I look away to break contact.

He frowns at the sensation too and backs off as soon as he lets me go, obviously uneasy at how much chemistry is stirring up from something so simple. It’s not a secret he and Carmen have been a steady thing for a long time, so I guess he feels like this is somehow cheating on her. She watches like a hawk; I can feel her hatred burning through my soul and wishing harm on me. The sting on my face tells me she probably left a handprint, and I try not to glare her way and provoke another outburst.

“I swear to God, Cole …” Her voice breaks, and tears spring from her eyes, instantly dampening her cheeks. “If you leave me for this little reject ….” For a second, the pure heartbreak in her tone gets at me, cutting me in the chest, and I’m a little sorry for her. Not knowing what love feels like or what this would do to my heart if it were me. I guess a slap isn’t comparable to a devastated soul and the thought of losing someone you thought was your mate.

That stupid part of me that cares has me staring at the floor guiltily, as though somehow accepting I’ve done something wrong here. I feel ashamed.

“Be quiet. Go home, and I’ll talk to you later. Right now, we are nothing until this gets rectified. I can’t have two mates. You know the laws.” The edge in his tone signals him executing his dominance, and she recoils quickly, knowing when not to question or argue, even if her face gives away the pain in what he said. Alphas have a tone reserved for times when pack animals won’t obey. It renders us mute and makes us do what is asked of us, which is one of those times. Even I tremble at its effect on everyone present and have to stop myself from slinking back into the shadows. Not every male has the gift, only those born to lead.

“Alora? That’s your name, right?” Colton turns to me, surprising me with the change, those chocolate eyes melting me when we connect, and I have to look away again, too, pulled towards him for my liking and nod shyly. I have no control over his effect on me, and I don’t like this one bit. Freedom was calling to me, and now this annoying, undesirable need to be wrapped around the one guy I never wanted to know.

“Or Lorey ... I get called both.” It’s a feeble quiet mumble, and I inwardly curse myself for sounding as weak as his pack always labeled me. I’m no match for an Alpha. It’s no wonder they cast my bloodline into the reject pile.

Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.

It’s his voice in my head, and I flicker up, startled that he spoke to me inside my mind and not verbally. We’re not supposed to do that when both in human form and especially not when we’re not from the same pack.

How can you …?

I start to ask, replying in the same way without thinking, and then inhale sharply as I realize I did the same thing. I’ve no idea if that breaks the rules, considering who he is.

We imprinted. We have a link. We can hear each other even from miles away. No distance is too far. No one else can tap into this. It’s like our own personal telephone line with dampeners.

He isn’t looking at me. He’s watching Carmen walk down the hall crying into her own hands and creating a bleak picture. I can sense his pain from watching her go, and it pains me, too. Feeling what he feels is another downside to being connected to this guy. I don’t want to feel heartbreak or pain or any of this crap.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this.

The honesty and ache in my response bring his eyes to mine, and we do that weird thing where we lock eyes, get a tremor of something we can’t deny, and both look away again. Neither of us wants this; that much is clear.

You didn’t do this. Fate did. Now we have to figure out how to undo it, if that’s even possible.

The hesitation in his tone catches me off guard, and I look at him properly despite myself. His side profile of chiseled square jawline. Sallow skin and dark hair to match those dark eyes and brows. Colton is tall, muscular, and fit, which is only enhanced by being among the giant wolves in the pack, even at his age. His family originated from Colombia, and you can see his heritage, in the best way, despite his mother being Caucasian. Me, I’m a good old country white. Dull hair, plain girl, and nothing unique or beautiful that I know of. Carmen is a goddess compared to me.

The atmosphere turns cold as a troop of men come marching in from the same door we did, and I’m pushed out of the way ungraciously by one of them. I get knocked sideways, unable to stop myself, and spiral down as I lose footing. Still on unsure legs after tonight’s ceremony and unable to stop myself.

Colton's low growl and quick reflexes as he jolts in beside me and catches me sends my head spinning. His arms lasso me and stop my body from colliding with the concrete wall, hitting his chest instead as I grasp on impulsively. His eyes glow amber over my head as he death glares his displeasure at the men, unconcealed as that flash of warning oozes from him. That fierce mate protection is coming out instinctively, and I honestly don’t know how to react.

Becoming someone’s mate is as much about instinct as anything else. It changes you and makes you feel and do things you didn’t before. Even if he hated me before this, that need to protect me and look after me will become his mission in life and vice versa. It’s completely crazy, and I can’t believe it’s happening to me.

His father, however, almost takes his head off with the rage-filled bellow he aims his way. I realize that’s who shoved me out of the way so forcefully right then.

“Did you just growl at me?” He snarls our way, and Colton firmly curls his fingers around my waist and arm. Juan lowers his brows severely and glares at his son furiously, moving into his head link to continue his chastisement; the way Colton stiffens around me tells me so.

Locked eye to eye, an intense standoff as the air thickens and his energy bristles. Captured in a tight embrace, I know I shouldn’t try to break free from it, although my body responds quite happily to the contact. Feeling his anger radiating from him and the anxious, uptight bubbling inside me as I sense what he’s feeling.

I was never good with aggression and rage. And now the overwhelming amount he can spit out, as my mood takes on his, has me recoiling. Colton has a sea of dominant fury inside him, and his hostility knows no bounds. I try to blot out the projections I’m getting and close my eyes to focus on my breathing instead. Combatting growing heat and pulsing need from his touch and fear and faintness from all the negative emotions flying between these two terrifying men. I feel like a piece of raw meat hung between two ferocious beasts. It’s like I don’t have complete control of my mind or feelings anymore, and try as I might; Colton now lives in my body as much as I do.

They argue inwardly, silent on the surface, but all in the hallway remain still and patient as they are meant to when their Alpha demands. Juan is one of the most intimidating pack leaders, and I guess it’s why he moved so quickly to the prime position.

Colton’s father finally spins on his heel, signaling they are done, and marches into a nearby doorway, clicking his fingers and gesturing for us to follow. It’s so hostile and terrifying that I cringe, my heart erupting into hammering thuds.

“If people could keep their hands to themselves and off my mate, that would be great! Thanks.” Colton mumbles it under his breath, not meaning for me to hear, and I throw him an awkward glance. My heart flipping over, and my stomach churning uneasily at his words.

He called me his mate.

I can hear you, and it’s what you are for the time being. We imprinted. We don’t exactly have a choice.

Colton throws me a look that translates to ‘relax and follow me,’ I mutely do so, cheeks burning from stupidly letting him read my thoughts. I'm embarrassed that I’m stupid enough not to remember that thirty seconds after figuring it out. He lets me go, and my body cools a little, somehow suddenly cold from his loss, and a weird emptiness fills me instead.

I follow behind him quickly into a large room that looks like a study with extra couches. The men all file in and sit down in random places, and Colton ushers me to a nearby chair, padded and semi shadowed in the corner, out of the direct line of the men. He stands close by and waits as his father circles a bookcase and comes to perch in the chair at the desk, looking out at all of us in his position as leader.

“I need solutions. This …” He points at Colton and me. “Happens over my dead body. My son is destined to be Alpha one day, and I will be damned if a mongrel with bad breeding dilutes his lineage. She will not be our Luna. Fix this. Find a way! I don’t care what the history books say. There has to be a way to break the bond and sever the connection, so he is free to mate up with a chosen female.” The stern tone of a man who doesn’t want to hear excuses, yet a tiny ounce of hope fills my chest. That there might still be a chance I can get out of this and here and follow my plan to get the hell away from Radstone once and for all. It’s even weirder that, at the same time, though, a desolate pain cuts me in the heart at the thought of leaving him. Winding me, blindsiding me for a second.

“You cannot fight fate. There are consequences if you ignore destiny. Imprinting does not happen to us all, and when it does ... you do not question it.” The Shaman is quick to verbalize, but Juan slamming his hand on his desk, sending a loud thud through all of us, brings silence once more. I stare at my feet and will the ground to open up and take me. Crushing pressure on my chest as anxiety envelops me.

“Did you not hear me when I said, THIS is NOT happening! She will NOT be my son’s mate. I will kill her before I let that happen.”

Silence befalls the room as his biting tone echoes in the air, although I swear I hear the subtlest of growls come from Colton’s way, so close beside me, and make sure I don’t look at him. Instead, I stare at my hands in my lap and pray for this to be over. Shaking internally and genuinely fearful for my life. Never have I wanted to be left to go back to the orphanage to spend time in my room with Vanka, but now it’s so calling to me.

I don’t want anything as much as I want that right now. Well, except maybe this weird primal urge for the guy at my left to calm down a bit and stop plaguing me. I can feel him, overly so. Way too in tune and aware of him, even if he is three feet away. My body and mind are doing weird things concerning him, and as terrified as I should be right now, I don’t feel it when he moves closer and somehow calms me without even looking my way. One backward step of maybe a foot, and he soothes my nerves back into warm gooey submission, that inner heat spreading as he gets close enough that his scent sparks some internal fire in me.

“Then your son will die too, and we lose our future leader. You cannot break the bond without severe consequences. The choice has been made. Fate has chosen for him, and you must obey.” The Shaman comes back, undeterred by Juan’s anger, and stands as though to press the point. He’s low-toned and confident in his wisdom and does not seem intimidated in any way. “He can choose to sever the bond if he wishes, but history has shown us that mates who do ... both die! The only other option is denial to consummate. They choose to walk away; no mark is made, no union at all, and they deny the bond completely. It will never die, and they will live lives craving what the other can give them, no matter who they end up with. Is that what you want for your son?”

All eyes turn on Juan. So much tension in this room as the elders talk internally, so I cannot hear them. Colton paces, and I can tell he is privy to what is being said. They are his pack, after all, and two are his blood. Father and Uncle. He doesn’t seem happy, and the waves of his anger are all lapping over me and affecting my sanity. Dampening the heat, replacing it with his rage.

I can’t take it anymore. As the minutes' tick by and my nerves fray, I feel like I may scream, an internal burst of nervous crazy whooshes out.

“I’ll leave. I don’t want this either.” I blurt it out into the deathly silence as hysteria gets the better of me, and every single face turns to me in shocked response, like they suddenly remembered I was here in this corner.

I know I just spoke out of turn and disrespected everyone in this room, but I’m sitting here, wearing my own dried blood, shredded emotions, and exhaustion pushing through. My head is a mess, and in the space of thirty minutes, I discovered that being a virgin doesn’t mean you cannot get crazy urges to strip naked and jump someone’s bones, even if you previously avoided that someone like the plague. I’ve pictured him naked at least twice, without even meaning to, since he gave me every one of his intimate memories, and some of those are him showering.

What?