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Rise Of The Rejected Omega

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“I don't want to be your mate,” I whisper so only him and those around him up there can hear me.

His eyes narrow into slits. “What did you just say?”

“You obviously don't want me as your mate, Alpha. Or do you?”

His jaw clenches. He looks surprised, like he wasn't expecting me to say those words.

But I don't f*****g care.

I know I am just a lowly worthless Omega, but I refuse to accept a bond that will make me suffer for the rest of my life.

“Very well then,” he says angrily. “I, Xander Blackstone and Alpha of the Redmoon pack, reject you, Ariadne Ellis, as my fated mate. You are rejected here and now before the Moon Goddess and my pack. You are not my Luna.”

A ripping pain swells inside my chest where the fated bond, raw and new, connects me to him. My legs are trembling so much I think I might collapse.

The agony of the breaking bond is so excruciating, and I feel like I am being torn in half.

This is far worse than any hunger or cold I have ever known.

“Accept my rejection, Ariadne.” He smirks, “Or do you want to beg me to—”

“I, Ariadne Ellis, accept your rejection, Alpha Xander Blackstone,” I glare at him, “I will never be your Luna.”

~

Following the rejection, Ariadne vows to survive and rise from the ashes, fueled by the determination to keep living and never accept defeat.

However, in a world full of secrets, dangerous enemies, and the constant bloodthirst for power, survival is easier imagined than achieved.

~

#StrongFemaleLead

#HerSecondChanceMateIsTheLycanKing

#SlowBurnRomance

#PossesiveMaleLead

#TouchHerAndDie

#BetrayalAndSecrets

#UnderdogToQueen

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A Scrawny Thing.
ARIADNE The air here in the omega dormitory always stinks like a mixture of wet stone, spirogyra mold, and hopelessness. It is nothing like the clean mountain wind that blows around the Pack House where Alpha Xander lives. No. We, the omegas, get the last dregs of that air. Already used and dumped on us by better lungs. You breathe shallowly here, or not at all. Worse for me, my corner by the dripping pipe that never stops dripping, is the final place where the air dies after I get the absolute last of it. My punishment, maybe. For being Ariadne. For being the worst Omega in this pack. “f**k,” I cuss under my breath as my stomach whines quietly. We had a “meal” yesterday. A few splinters of bone and tasteless soup given to us after the pack warriors had picked the bones clean and left us with barely nothing. I had licked my portion until I nearly scraped the metal off my plate, and yet, I wasn't satisfied. I was still hungry by the end of my meal, but it didn't matter. Here in the Redmoon Pack, as an omega, you have to learn to live with an empty stomach most of the time. I am hungry now, but I can endure it. This whining inside my belly isn't just hunger. It is also something else that has been bugging me for months now. However, it grew worse a week ago, right after I found a dead cat and did something I never expected I could ever do. The flashback memory of that day rises in my mind and I hold my belly tight to stop myself from purging both from hunger and the thought of that memory. My throat burns as I pull my knees to my chest, burying my face in my threadbare blanket while trying not to think of the atrocity I committed. But I can't forget it. The cat. A week ago, just beyond the dormitory site, I saw a stray calico cat. Scrawny thing. The poor animal was dragging one of its bloody hind legs possibly after a chase gone wrong, caused probably by one of the elite stupid kids of this wretched pack. Right before my eyes, the cat slumped down to the dirt and stared me straight in the eyes before it jerked to stillness and stopped breathing. That was when I also saw the deep s***h wound on its neck and the blood dripping from the wound. The cat's death should have been just another death. I always minded my damn business and never meddled in things that didn't concern me. However, the cat somehow reminded me that we aren't so different from each other. I am also a scrawny thing too. A scrawny thing hoping that one day, my life will be better than picking up scraps and having my brain filled with wormy insults always thrown at me. That thought alone made me feel connected to the cat and right then, that was exactly when I felt a strong twisting sensation inside my stomach and it grew and surged through my blood like an unquenchable fire. The feeling wasn't gentle at all because I felt like something was tearing open inside me and trying to force its way out of my body. Something stubborn and begging to be released. My dirt stained hands turned red, and I felt my fingers tingling like they were about to all pop off. Regardless of the feeling, I ran to the dead cat and dropped down to my knees before I could stop myself. My fingers reached for the cat’s lifeless body to carry it up into my arms. But instantly, dark smoke exploded from my fingers and shot straight into the cat's dead body. The cat jerked. Whined. And right before my very eyes, the cat’s eyes popped open and blinked. Alive. Before I could do anything else, the cat scrambled to its feet, all wounds gone, and I watched the healed animal running away from me, heading straight into the bushy undergrowth near the dormitory’s abandoned storehouse. That day, I saved a dead cat. But at the same time, I found myself wondering how the hell I got into meddling with life and death. “What was that?!” I had looked up instantly and saw Dan and Keisha, the son and daughter of the pack's Gamma staring back at me with their wide eyes filled with fear. Whatever that had brought them to the dormitory didn't matter at that moment because as usual, they always tormented me. But then, I bet they saw what I had done to the cat and I am sure the two of them would land me in big trouble.

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