I Rejected You

Chapter 1

Aila Coraline

"For goodness’ sake, hit the target, Coraline!" Anastasia shouted in frustration after I missed the mark for the fifth consecutive time.

I couldn’t focus. My mind was a tangled mess, drifting back to the strange, vivid dream I had last night. It had felt too real, like I had truly died in a cold, dark place and been brought back to life, resurrected by some force I couldn't name. The phantom sensation of a blade in my side left me unsettled and shivering despite the afternoon heat.

"Sorry, okay? I just don’t feel well," I mumbled in my own defense, wiping sweat from my brow with the back of my hand.

Anastasia rolled her eyes in exasperation, her blonde ponytail whipping as she turned toward me. "Excuses! The competition is only a week away, and you’re still shooting like a decaying archer! If you perform like this in front of the elders, you’ll be the laughingstock of the entire pack."

Her words were harsh, slicing through my lingering lethargy. Determined to prove her wrong, I picked up a fresh arrow and notched it onto the bowstring. I tried to push the memories of the dark prison from my mind, focusing as hard as I could on the distant wooden target.

"Watch this," I whispered under my breath.

I drew the bow back, feeling the familiar tension in my shoulders and the strain in my biceps as I aimed. I held my breath, waiting for the perfect moment of stillness. I released the string, watching the arrow soar through the air. I expected it to finally thud into the bullseye, but instead of flying true, it veered sharply to the right, caught by a sudden, treacherous gust of wind.

A loud, pained yelp echoed from the tall grass in the nearby field.

My heart dropped into my stomach as I realized the arrow hadn’t just missed the target. It had found a living one. A figure stumbled out of the brush, clutching an arm where my arrow was buried deep in the muscle.

"Oh my God!" I gasped, my eyes widening in horror as the bow slipped from my nerveless fingers.

Anastasia’s face turned deathly pale as she looked at the scene. "Coraline, what did you just do?"

I didn't answer. I dropped the bow and rushed toward the man. "I’m so sorry! Are you okay?" I called out, my heart racing with a panic that made my hands shake.

The man was tall, with hair as dark as a raven’s wing and a frame that suggested he was a warrior. He glared at me, his jaw set in a hard line as he reached down and brutally yanked the arrow out of his arm. He didn't even flinch at the sound of the flesh tearing.

"Do I look okay?" he snapped. His eyes were a piercing, stormy gray, but his tone softened just a fraction when he saw the genuine terror etched across my face.

"I... I didn’t mean to! I was aiming for the target, I swear! The wind caught it, I didn't see you there," I stammered, my words tumbling over each other.

He sighed heavily, shaking his head as he pressed a hand over the bleeding puncture wound. "Next time, try to aim a little further from where people are walking, yeah? Unless you're trying to thin out the pack's numbers."

Anastasia appeared beside me, pinching the bridge of her nose in deep frustration. "Well," she said, her voice dripping with irony, "at least you hit something this time."

I shot Anastasia a fierce glare. "Seriously? Now is not the time for sarcasm!" Couldn’t she see how badly the man was bleeding?

Ignoring her, I turned back to the guy I’d accidentally shot. I could see the dark blood staining his tunic, spreading rapidly. "Look, I’m really sorry. Let me help you. At least let me check the wound and bind it. I have some medical supplies in my bag."

I reached out to him, but he took a quick step back, holding up his uninjured hand to stop me. "Just get lost," he said flatly. His voice wasn’t screaming with rage, but there was a sharp, authoritative edge to it that made my blood run cold. "I don’t need your help. What I do need is for you to practice your archery better so you don’t end up killing someone next time."

His words stung, but I knew I deserved the rebuke. I opened my mouth to apologize again, to beg for his forgiveness, but he cut me off with a stare so cold it felt like ice against my skin.

"Seriously, just go. You’ve done enough for one day," he muttered, brushing past me with a limp in his stride.

I stood there frozen, guilt crashing down on me in suffocating waves as I watched him walk away. Anastasia sighed behind me, the sound of her clicking her tongue echoing in the quiet field.

"Well," she said dryly, "at least now you’ve got a real reason to practice. You nearly killed a man, Coraline."

My eyes lingered on his fading figure. I watched as he held his arm, his fingers turning red as he tried to stop the flow of blood. The guilt gnawed at my insides. I thought about how lucky I was that the arrow hit his arm and not his throat or his heart. If I had hit something vital, I’d be facing a tribunal. My father would never forgive me.

I shook my head, trying to push the dark thoughts away. I couldn’t let my fear paralyze me now.

"Come on," Anastasia called out, already heading back toward the archery line. "You’re not done yet. If anything, you need to work twice as hard now to make up for that disaster."

I hesitated for a moment, still feeling the phantom weight of the bow in my hand, but then I followed her. This time, I was determined to take things seriously. No more distractions. No more dreams of shadow prisons.

We returned to the field, and Anastasia handed me another arrow with a stern look. "Focus this time, Coraline. Block out the wind, block out the man, and just hit the target."

I nodded, taking a deep, shuddering breath. I drew the bowstring, narrowing my focus until the world consisted only of the gold circle in the distance. The afternoon breeze seemed to quiet down, and for the first time today, I felt a flicker of control. I released the arrow. It soared straight and landed just off-center.

"Better," Anastasia said with a sharp nod. "Now, do it again. Fifty more times."

I spent the rest of the day in a blur of repetition. Over and over, I pulled back the string until my fingers felt raw and my shoulders ached with a dull, throbbing heat. The afternoon sun slowly sank lower, casting long, skeletal shadows across the grass.

It wasn’t until the sun was nearly touching the horizon, painting the sky in bruised purples and oranges, that everything finally clicked. I drew back the bow, aimed with a clarity I hadn't felt all day, and released. The arrow flew perfectly straight, thudding into the very center of the bullseye.

A sense of immense relief flooded me as I stared at the target, my chest heaving from the physical effort.

"Finally," I muttered to myself.

Anastasia, standing nearby with her arms crossed, gave a satisfied nod. "Took you long enough. Maybe there’s hope for you yet."

I didn’t respond, too exhausted to even muster a witty comeback. I gathered my things in silence, the weight of the day pressing down on me as the first stars began to twinkle in the twilight.

"How was your practice?" Father asked later that evening as we sat down for dinner. The room was warm, filled with the scent of roasted meat, but I felt a chill. He knew archery wasn’t my strong suit, but I had spent weeks trying to convince him I was making progress.

"I’ve improved," I replied shortly, keeping my eyes fixed on my plate.

I felt his heavy gaze on me, and my heart skipped a beat. "I heard a rumor today," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "I heard someone was shot by a stray arrow in the practice field earlier. Was it you, Coraline?"

The silver spoon slipped from my fingers and clattered loudly against the porcelain plate. My body stiffened as I forced myself to meet his stare. The memory of the man clutching his bleeding arm flashed through my mind, and I felt the color drain from my face until I was sure I looked like a ghost.

Father raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable and stern. "Well? I am waiting for an answer."

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like it was filled with sand. "It… it was an accident," I stammered, my voice barely audible. "I didn’t mean to, I swear. The wind took it."

He let out a heavy, disappointed sigh, leaning back in his carved wooden chair. "You need to be more careful, Coraline. Archery is not a game. One wrong shot, and it could’ve been far worse than a flesh wound."

"I know," I muttered, my head lowering in shame.

He stayed silent for a long moment, the only sound in the room being the crackle of the hearth. "Just make sure it doesn’t happen again. You cannot afford mistakes like that in this pack. Especially not now."

He paused, leaning forward until he was in the light of the candles. "More especially when the person you hit was the Alpha's son."

My heart didn't just sink; it felt like it stopped beating entirely. My stomach twisted into painful knots. Of course, it wasn’t just a random guard I had hit. It was Zayn, the Alpha’s heir. The most dangerous and high-ranking man in our territory.

"I didn’t know it was him…" I whispered, my voice trembling.

"You didn’t think," Father corrected, his eyes sharp and unforgiving. "You have to be aware of your surroundings, Coraline. One mistake like that, and the consequences could be much worse than a stern talking-to. The Alpha does not take kindly to people who draw the blood of his kin."

I nodded, feeling the guilt gnaw at me until it felt like a physical pain. I remembered the man’s cold gray eyes and the way he had looked at me not with rage, but with a chilling sort of disdain.

"I won’t let it happen again," I promised quietly.

Father didn’t say anything more. He gave me one last, hard look before turning back to his meal. The rest of the dinner was spent in a suffocating silence, but the weight of his words lingered long after the candles had burned down to nothing.