Unwanted Rejection

Episode 1

A Guest House

Gabriella's POV

My heart raced like a war drum as I wrenched the nearest blanket over his face, buying precious seconds of escape. The thick carpet cushioned my bare-footed run as I escaped, designer heels clutched like weapons in my bloody-knuckled hands.

“Real good, Gabby,” I muttered under my breath. “Alpha’s daughter — seen doing the walk of shame from a guest house. Dad’s gonna definitely frame that headline for the living room.”

Darting into an alcove, I quickly dialed Jane’s number, my fingers shaking so much I almost dropped the phone twice.

"Jane!" I hissed when she picked up, muffling the club’s blaring music in the distance.

"Holy crap, Gabby! You Star Trekked out of here like my self-respect after tequila. Where—"

“I’m at that sleazy guest house near Club Lunar,” I interrupted, my voice barely a whisper as I turned the corner. “And before you say something seriously inappropriate, which I know you already are thinking, I need an extraction. Now."

"A guest house?" Jane’s voice went up an octave, half scandalized, half delighted. "Girl, you finally—"

"Not. Another. Word." Footsteps pounded down the hallway and I pressed myself against the wall. “On your collection of limited-edition lipsticks, if you don’t get me out of here in five minutes, I’ll tell everyone about the time with Steve’s brother and the whipped cream.”

“You can’t, would you?” Jane gasped before going into business mode. "Steve! We need to go NOW. “Operation Rescue the Princess is a go!”

Just as a door slammed nearby, the call ended. I froze, holding my breath as a deep voice called.

"Angel? Where did you go?"

That voice — smooth as old whiskey and just as intoxicating — had sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine. Last night, it had told me things that made me forget who I was, who he was.

I had to disappear before he discovered me. The walk of shame was bad enough without a fresh new failure of “fraternizing with the enemy.”

Looking through cheap lace curtains, I saw Steve’s black sedan squealing into the parking lot. I wasn’t waiting for them to park — I rushed through the lobby, almost diving into the backseat before the car had even come to a complete stop.

"Drive like you stole it!" I ordered, slouching down so I wouldn’t be detected.

“Technically, I did steal this car,” Steve deadpanned, registering my shocked face in the rearview mirror. "From my dad. When I was sixteen. He still doesn’t know I drove it joyriding.”

Jane spun around in her seat, her face a canvas of judgment and white-hot curiosity. “Tell me or I will start embellishing. And believe me, mine will include three wolves, a hot tub and body glitter.”

“I got drunk,” I babbled, attempting to wrangle my disastrous bed head. "Ended up in a random room."

"With a random person?" Jane pressed, eyebrows waggling lasciviously.

“With someone who was really great with his — ” I caught myself, mortified. "I mean, yes. Random. Very random. So random I don’t even remember his face.”

The car lurched to a screeching stop, and our bodies jerked forward. I barely missed the headrest with my forehead.

“What the actual —” Jane said.

“We have a situation,” Steve called, his normally relaxed face taut with anxiety. “That guy you were grinding up against all night? The one in the red suit with the blue dragon mask? That wasn’t some rando hottie.”

It felt like the temperature in the car dropped twenty degrees.

"Who was it?" “Sorry?” I said, although something deep within me already knew the answer.

In the mirror, Steve’s eyes locked with mine. "Dante Blackwood. The Moonblood Pack's lead is the Alpha.

“Well, shit,” I muttered eloquently.

Jane's mouth fell open. "The same Dante Blackwood, who is accused of murdering his own father to take Alpha? The one that’s been at war with your father for three years? That Dante Blackwood?"

“No, the other f*****g homicidal Alpha named Dante Blackwood,” I snapped, panic surging. "Of course that one!"

"But he was...” I left it hanging, picturing soft hands and surprisingly gentle words murmured over skin.

"He was what?" Jane pounced.

“Not what I expected,” I reluctantly admitted. "Almost... gentle."

"Gentle?" Jane’s eyebrows almost receded into her hairline. “Girl, did you just say The Alpha of the most infamous Heartblood Pack at the Blood Moon Official, known tragically also as The Crimson Terror, or The Wolf Who Brings Nothing But Death—

“That’s tabloid nicknames, and you know it,” I interrupted.

"—was gentle?" Jane finished, undeterred.

“I never said that,” I backpedaled. “And I’m going to need both of you to have sudden, tragic amnesia about this whole conversation.”

Steve clutched the steering wheel, knuckles pale. "If your father finds out—"

“My father never will,” I said, with much more certainty than I felt. "Because nothing happened. I danced with a stranger and got drunk and passed out alone and you two found me. That’s our story and we’re sticking to it.”

We drove the rest of the way in tense silence. When we finally arrived at my house, I tried to smile and only succeeded at grimacing.

"Thank you for the rescue. “Your vow of silence shall be rewarded with my everlasting gratitude and a fine bottle of whatever poison Jane favors.”

Tequila, Jane said automatically. "The good kind. And I want to know details later.”

I climbed out of the car and ran to the side entrance. If I was lucky, Father would be deep into his morning training session with Tracy, blissfully unaware I wasn’t in my room.

I was three steps away from freedom when his voice landed on me like a physical blow.

"GABRIELLA!"

I froze, slapping on my best innocent smile before turning. "Good morning, Father. Beautiful day for—"

“Silence,” he growled, his eyes disgustedly raking over my rumpled dress. "Look at yourself. Dressed like a common whore."

I stifled a comeback about his antiquated views on female attire. "It's just a dress, Father. Jane lent it to me and—"

The slap surprised me — not only because of its suddenness but also because the force of it knocked my head to one side. I tasted blood, and something more vile — familiar shame.

“There’s a disgrace, and you are it,” he spat. “Why can’t you be more like your sister? At least Tracy has value on this pack.

Tracy, the golden child. Tracy, the warrior. Tracy, who’d manifested her wolf at thirteen while I had resolutely, embarrassingly remained human at twenty-two.

“I’m trying,” I said softly, hating that weakness in my voice. "Every day, I'm trying."

"Try harder," he sneered. Stop flirting with boys, manifest your wolf.” Until then, you're useless."

Something—something that had bent and bent and bent over the years—finally snapped inside me.

"You know what?" I do, I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “I didn’t choose to be an omega. I didn’t choose not to shift. But you decided to be a horrible dad.”

His expression darkened dangerously. “What did you say to me?”

I should have backed down. Should have apologized. Instead, I met his gaze. And then I got him on the phone, and I said, why do you hate me so much? What have I ever done except cease to exist in a way that you’re comfortable with?”

Something flickered in his eyes for a second — something like pain — before hardening back to stone.

“Clean the training room,” he said coldly. “No food until it’s clean.”

He stalked off leaving me hollow-eyed and trembling.

I staggered to my room and closed the door, sliding down until I hit the floor. Only then did I let the tears flow.

“Mugged ya, Gabby,” I whispered to my deserted dwelling. “Slept with the enemy, caught breaking in, and talked back to the Alpha. So he hits the triple crown of stupidity.

My phone buzzed with a text from Jane: *You alive? *

I replied: *Physically, yes. Emotionally, I died either in between the slap or being compared to Tracy for the billionth time.” *

Jane’s reply was instantaneous: *Your dad’s a jerk. You're worth ten Tracys. *

I smiled despite everything. At least I had Jane. And Steve, I guess, but he was more Jane’s friend than mine.

After a quick shower to scrub away last night’s evidence of wrong-doing, I proceeded to my punishment, inwardly practicing my “nothing happened” story. If Father ever learned who I had been with…

I was mopping the training room floor when I thought of the mysterious Alpha again. The rumors depicted him as a monster; the man I met had been anything but. His touch felt reverent, his words surprisingly lyrical.

“Cut it out,” I said, scrubbing more vigorously. “One night doesn’t define who he is.”

But no matter how much I tried to assure myself, there was something gnawing inside. The gap between the terrifying Alpha that had inspired fear from everyone whose path he crossed, and the man who’d shown me more kindness than I’d known in yea

rs.

It wasn’t the fact that I’d slept with the enemy that scared me the most.

It was that I couldn’t help but not regret it, despite all.