Bloodthirsty Alpha’s 'Reject' Mate

Chapter 03

The night had been peaceful, unusually so, even with a newborn cradled among us. There was a rare stillness that settled over our cramped shelter—until a sharp, acrid scent invaded the air. The smell of burning wood, thick and overwhelming, clawed its way into my lungs and snapped me out of sleep.

Coughing, I bolted upright, my eyes frantically scanning the room now engulfed in a growing haze. “What’s going on?” Pamela croaked, her voice hoarse with panic. She stirred beside me, already clutching at her blanket. The others woke just as abruptly.

Lucy rushed to the window and yanked it open. A flood of smoke poured in as we all leaned toward the opening. Her gasp was immediate. “Oh my god,” she whispered.

From our view, we saw it: a wide-spread fire raging through the distant woods, stretching like a hungry beast toward our settlement. Panic rippled through our small group.

Mara cried out and swiftly scooped up her baby, wrapping the infant tightly in the nearest blanket. “Outside,” I managed to say through a thick cough, my heart hammering in my chest. “We have to get outside.”

The moment we stepped out, chaos awaited us. Other outcasts were already gathering, faces illuminated by the inferno’s orange glow. People stumbled about in confusion, eyes wide with fear. The heat licked at our skin, even from this distance, and the air buzzed with the scent of danger.

Men among us—few as they were—brandished makeshift weapons: rusted pipes, wooden clubs, anything they could find. “This is war,” one of them muttered grimly. “We must protect the young and the women. Form a circle. Shield them.”

It was all we could do. We had no walls, no warriors, no Alpha to protect us. Only each other. The young and the elderly stood at the center while the rest formed a ragged circle around them.

We waited—silent, breath held, anticipating what was coming. Tricia clung tightly to Lucy’s side, and Mara rocked her baby, trying to hush its cries. I stood among them, tense and useless, my palms clammy, heart racing.

Then came the sound of footsteps—heavy, deliberate. Wolves.

The tension cracked like a whip as figures emerged from the darkness. Half-shifted werewolves with gleaming eyes and snarling lips surrounded us. Fear ran cold through every soul in the clearing. Our so-called weapons felt like twigs in comparison.

One of the older men stepped forward, holding his hands up. “Please,” he said with a trembling voice. “We are the rejects. We have no power, no allegiance. Let us be. We will live quietly. As good as dead.”

But mercy was not etched into their snarling faces.

And then… the air changed.

A chill swept over us, sudden and unnatural. I felt it in my bones—a creeping, familiar cold that made my breath catch. The same air I’d felt once before, by the stream. My mind betrayed me and conjured the image of him. That stranger with the golden eyes.

Why was I thinking of him now?

Then, his voice cut through the tense night like a blade.

“There is one among you I seek,” he said, loud and clear, every word echoing. “Give her to me… and I will spare the rest.”

A hush fell. Confusion painted everyone’s face—but not mine.

I knew.

My stomach twisted. My breath shortened. I knew exactly who he meant.

Sara, one of the eldest among us, dared to step forward. “Who do you seek?” she asked with a calmness that belied her shaking hands.

“She didn’t give me a name,” the voice responded, “but I met her at the stream.” A pause. “If it’s you… come forward now. I’m not known for my patience. Your silence will cost them their lives.”

A collective gasp spread like a wave through the crowd. I closed my eyes, heart aching. I turned to look at the girls I had grown to love like sisters—Pamela, Mara, Lucy, and Tricia. We had built a life out of nothing, a fragile bond born out of rejection and pain. I had no real family anymore—but they were the closest thing I had.

Pamela’s eyes widened as she understood. The others followed, and the truth sank in. They didn’t try to stop me. They knew they couldn’t. Even their tears were silent.

Taking a breath, I stepped forward and said the words I never thought I’d say.

“It’s me. I am the one you’re looking for.”

The crowd parted slowly, making way for me like the sea retreating from the shore. I kept my head low, trying to steady the tremble in my hands, pushing aside fear for the sake of the ones I was leaving behind.

But what he said next stopped me cold.

“Here comes the bad kisser.”

My face flushed with heat and humiliation, even as my heart clenched tighter. Why the hell did he have to say such a thing? But what did he want now?

And why... did it feel like this was only the beginning?

The world fell into an eerie silence. Not a single soul stirred—even the wolves, once bristling with menace, now stood still as he stepped closer to me. Each of his footsteps felt like the toll of a bell counting down the seconds of my life. I didn’t lift my head. I couldn’t. Maybe if I stayed quiet, if I didn’t look him in the eye, he would end this quickly. I wouldn’t give him a reason to draw it out.

But he had other plans.

A rough, bloodstained hand reached out and lifted my chin, forcing my gaze to meet his. My breath hitched. His face, now illuminated by the moon and the faint flicker of burning embers behind him, was terrifying—his skin smeared with blood, fresh and crimson, some of it not his own. The sight sent a wave of nausea through me, but I held it back. I couldn’t show weakness, not now.

His fingers brushed across my lips gently, mockingly, as if savoring the memory of what had passed between us. Then he smiled—not kindly, but with that same devilish amusement that made my pulse race with fear... and something else I didn’t want to name.

He leaned closer, his breath brushing against the shell of my ear. “Now, bad kisser,” he whispered in a tone both intimate and mocking, “what is your name?”

I should’ve trembled. I should’ve been afraid, humiliated, or furious. But the only thing I felt was a strange, hot stirring low in my belly. His closeness set something alight in me—a yearning I didn't understand, something raw and unfamiliar.

I swallowed hard and answered in a soft, almost shameful whisper. “Karina.”

He drew in a slow breath, like my name was wine on his tongue. “Karina,” he repeated, savoring it. The way he said it made my knees weak.

For a moment, it felt like we were the only two people left in the world. The air between us was thick, and I wasn’t sure if it was hate or something far more dangerous binding us. I didn’t want anyone else to hear him say my name again. It felt... private. Forbidden.

Then he turned away from me, addressing the rest of the terrified crowd with a voice that held unquestionable authority. “As promised,” he announced, “you will be spared. But you now belong to me. You will be taken to my pack lands as slaves.”

Gasps erupted around me. My heart dropped.

He continued without a trace of emotion. “There is no one left in your pack but your Alpha and his family... and your Beta, who are now mine as well.”

My breath caught in my throat. My father. The Beta. My father.

He was alive—but as a slave?

My entire pack... gone?

It felt like the world shifted beneath my feet. My thoughts raced back to the bakery, to the whispers about Alpha Rican and the war. I had hoped Mr. Brandon had made it out. But deep down, I knew the truth. No one was safe from this man. Not my father. Not my past. Not even me.

And still, with all the chaos and horror around me... I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he said my name.