Rejected By the Disabled Alpha

Chapter 2

“Arrgh!” I bit my lip as I poured alcohol on the wounds on my elbow, the sharp sting almost enough to bring fresh tears to my eyes.

The skin was raw, scraped from where I’d hit the ground, and the edges of the cuts burned fiercely.

My father’s words echoed in my mind, each one slicing deeper than the physical pain.

Pathetic.

A mistake.

I gritted my teeth, refusing to cry again as I cleaned the rest of the bruises and cuts on my arms and knees. The small room I called mine was dimly lit, and the cracked mirror above the sink reflected the hollow look in my eyes.

When I was done, I rinsed the blood from my hands and bandaged the worst of the wounds. My body ached, but the thought of my mother lying alone in her room pushed me forward. I couldn’t leave her like that, not tonight.

I made my way down the narrow hallway, the scent of mildew and damp wood filling the air. The closer I got to her room, the heavier the air felt.

I heard her deep dry cough and my heart ached.

The door creaked as I pushed it open, revealing the shadowed figure of my mother on the bed. She was curled on her side, her once beautiful auburn hair now dull and tangled against the pillow. Her cheeks were sunken, her skin pale and waxy, with dark veins creeping up her neck, a cruel signature of the disease ravaging her body.

Lupine Decay Syndrome.

It was a rare illness among werewolves, one that stripped the body of its natural healing ability.

Slowly, painfully, it ate away at the strength of its host, leaving them weaker with each passing day.

No one knew where it came from or why it chose its victims, but once it took hold, it was relentless.

“Mother?” I whispered, stepping closer.

Her eyes fluttered open, their usual warmth dulled by exhaustion.

“Vanessa,” she murmured, her voice raspy and weak. “What’s wrong?”

I froze, my body trembling as I stood by her bedside. Her gaze drifted to the corner of my mouth, where a faint smear of blood still lingered. Her brow furrowed, and she struggled to sit up.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice firmer now, laced with concern.

“It’s nothing,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “You should rest.”

“Vanessa,” she said again, her tone gentle but insistent. “Come here.”

I hesitated for a moment before climbing onto the bed beside her. Her arms, thinner than they should have been, wrapped around me, pulling me close. She smelled faintly of lavender, though the scent was weaker now, faded like everything else about her.

She began to hum softly, the familiar tune of an old lullaby she used to sing when I was a child.

The melody wrapped around me like a warm blanket, and despite my best efforts to stay strong, I felt the tears spill over.

“I’m sorry,” I choked out, burying my face in her chest.

She stroked my hair, her fingers trembling but soothing all the same. “Shh, my darling. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

I wanted to believe her, but the words felt hollow. Nothing was okay. My mother was dying, my father despised me, my mate rejected me, and my life had been reduced to a cruel game I didn’t know how to play.

Her voice wavered as she continued to hum, but she didn’t stop, even when my sobs grew louder.

She held me until my cries subsided, her frail body offering more comfort than I thought possible.

I clung to her, wishing I could stay like this forever, safe in the arms of the one person who loved me unconditionally.

But deep down, I knew the truth.

Time was running out.

*****

The carriage rocked unsteadily as it trudged through the dense woods, the creaking of its wooden frame mingling with the howling wind outside.

I sat stiffly, my hands clenched in my lap.

The driver had been silent the entire journey, only glancing back once with an expression that made it clear I wasn’t worth his words.

I didn’t blame him.

I wasn’t worth much to anyone these days, except as a bargaining chip for my father.

The air grew colder as we neared the borders of the Dark Moon Pack.

Even through the thick coat I wore, I could feel the chill creeping into my bones.

This place wasn’t like the Crescent Moon Pack, with its open fields and warm sunlight. Here, the towering trees stood like sentinels, their branches clawing at the sky.

The shadows they cast seemed to shift and whisper, as though the forest itself was alive and watching.

When the carriage finally came to a halt, I hesitated before stepping out. The cold bit at my face as I looked up at the packhouse, a sprawling, gothic structure that seemed to rise from the earth.

Its windows glinted like eyes in the pale light, and the air around it was unwelcoming.

“Move,” the driver barked, his gruff voice startling me.

He didn’t bother to offer me a hand as I stepped down, my boots sinking slightly into the damp, frozen ground.

A pair of guards waited by the entrance, their expressions unreadable.

One of them gestured for me to follow, and I swallowed the lump in my throat as I trailed behind them.

My breath clouded in front of me.

The inside of the packhouse was just as cold as the outside, both in temperature and atmosphere.

The walls were lined with dark wood, the floors polished to an almost mirror-like shine. Despite its grandeur, the space felt empty, devoid of the warmth and liveliness that usually defined a packhouse.

I was led to a large, open room where several pack members had gathered. They whispered among themselves, their eyes darting toward me with barely concealed disdain.

“She’s the one?”

“Another weakling Crescent Moon sent to tie us down.”

“The alpha won’t like this.”

I kept my head down, my hands clenched at my sides. I was used to the whispers, but that didn’t make them hurt any less.

“Mara Ashbourne?” a voice called out.

Right, that was my name now.

I looked up to see a man approaching, his presence commanding despite his unassuming appearance. His graying hair and weathered face marked him as older.

“Yes,” I said quietly.

“I’m William, the pack beta,” he said, his tone brisk. “Follow me. The alpha is expecting you.”

The alpha.

My stomach churned at the thought of meeting the man I was now bound to.

The walk to his quarters felt like an eternity. When we finally stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, William knocked once before pushing it open.

“Alpha, your bride has arrived,” he announced, stepping aside to let me in.

I hesitated on the threshold, my eyes adjusting to the dimly lit room.

At first, all I saw was the massive fireplace at the far end, the flames casting flickering shadows on the walls. Then I saw him.

He sat in a large chair by the fire.

His dark hair was cropped short, and his green eyes seemed to glow in the firelight.

A face so handsome that one would say the goddess settled down to craft a man like him.

Those broad shoulders, his face chiseled at the right places.

But it wasn’t his face that held my attention, it was his scent.

Lavender and ocean breeze.

Unique and just to him.

Cyrus Tyrone was my second chance mate.