THE MIDNIGHT MATE OF THE ALPHA HEIR

Chapter Three: The Cruelty Of The Morning

Morning came way too soon. The sun slashed through the curtains dragging me out of the beautiful sleep that I was currently having. I shifted beneath the sheets, groaning, and wishing I could melt back into the darkness.

I opened my eyes slowly, feeling very shy about what transpired between us last night. I wondered how he would react.

I couldn’t feel him beside me anymore so I sat up and saw him sitting down on the chair in the room, already dressed, and his expression was stone cold.

His eyes met mine, and I felt the blow before he even spoke.

“You can never be my mate.”

The words hit like claws to the chest, and my throat tightened, my chest burned, but he wasn’t finished.

“Don’t ever tell anyone about what happened last night. And don’t think this changes anything. I still hate you.”

Hate. The word cut deeper than any slap, and harsher than any insult. My chest was in pain, the sting of the rejection burning behind my eyes. I’d been marked and tied to him in ways I didn’t even fully understand and still, he rejected me.

I’d never felt more shattered. My pride crumbled, hope splintered, leaving only the raw ache of humiliation. My jaw clenched, my hands trembled, anger clawing its way up through the shame.

He stood up, every movement dripping with effortless arrogance. He didn’t say another word to me nor did he wait for me to speak, he just opened the door and walked out.

I heard the door close, leaving me alone with the unbearable pain. I buried my face in the pillow, letting out a frustrated scream that dissolved into quiet sobs. Anger burned through me, and shame filled my chest, heavy and suffocating, making me want to erase everything that had happened. How had I been so foolish to hope? How had I allowed myself to believe… even for a second that he would…. accept me?

Eventually, I forced myself to get dressed, moving mechanically as if my body belonged to someone else.

By the time I reached home, the anger and hurt had not diminished, they had only grown heavier.

I pushed open the door and found my father, Marcus sitting in the living room. He looked evidently pissed off.

His eyes looked at me, with irritation. “Where the hell have you been? Do you think you can vanish without a single word? You left without preparing what I asked for.”

I froze, my throat closing, but he wasn’t finished.

“You’re completely useless.” The word landed like a slap. His gaze raked over me with disgust, as though my very existence offended him. “A damn half-breed mistake that can’t even manage the simplest tasks.”

The pain inside me deepened, I stumbled past him, choking on the burn in my chest, and fled to my room. The door shut behind me, but the sobs broke free before I could stop them. I buried my face in my hands, trembling.

And in the pain I felt, memories found their way back. My mother’s smile was the only light I had ever known. The way she brushed my hair back when the pack children left me bruised and bloody, the way she would always tell me that I was important and special.

She was the only one I had in this world that truly cared for me, until the night her life was stolen.

I had only stepped out to do one of Father’s endless errands. When I came back, I called out her name but there was no answer until I went to look for her in the kitchen. I remember dropping the basket from my hands, the fruit rolling across the floor, when I saw her.

My mother…my delicate, gentle mother was on the ground, with blood everywhere, her body broken in ways I still couldn’t erase from my mind. The smell of blood choked me, and burned my throat. I could see claw marks, her murderer had been a werewolf, she stood no chance against him. She was only human.

Beside her, half-hidden in the mess, was a crest. A symbol I didn’t recognize, but something in me screamed it was important. I snatched it up and hid it, shoving it against my chest.

When Father finally came back, he didn’t get angry. He didn’t demand justice. He just hurriedly buried her like she was a mistake to be hidden away, not the only soul who had ever cared for me. I screamed at him, begged him to find her killer, and demanded answers. But my voice only earned me his fury. His hand nearly struck me, his words cut deeper than claws calling me an ungrateful, pathetic, half-breed who didn’t understand her place.

That was the night something in me broke and hardened.

I swore on her grave I would find her murderer myself and take revenge. No matter the cost. And no matter who it turned out to be.

I cleaned my tears and decided I wouldn’t cry anymore. If he didn’t want me, that’s fine, it’s not the end of the world.

I dressed quickly, pulling myself together with shaky hands, and forced my legs to carry me to school. Every step felt heavy, but I held my head high.

When I got to class, the usual chatter swirled around me, but it all felt distant, and muffled. I was halfway to my seat when the class head’s voice stopped me.

“Aria.”

I turned, feeling a little tense.

He was standing by his desk, his expression unreadable. “The principal is looking for you.”

My stomach dropped. “Oh no,” I whispered under my breath. Heat prickled my palms as my mind raced. I hope I’m not in trouble…