The Alpha's Rejected Mate

Three

Chapter 3

Una

As the guards forcefully escort me out of the hall, the wolves gathered around watch with scornful eyes, their disapproving whispers swirling around me like a venomous cyclone. Their judgment pierces through my already wounded spirit, intensifying the pain that throbs within my chest.

I stumble as they drag me out of the hall, my broken leg protesting against the rough treatment. The glares of the other wolves pierce through me, their judgmental eyes fueling the flames of my humiliation. Some look upon me with disdain, their loyalty unwavering towards the Alpha who has discarded me so callously. But within the sea of judgment, a few pairs of eyes meet mine, filled with pity and understanding. They see beyond the surface, recognizing the injustice that has befallen me.

Whispers ripple through the crowd, spreading like wildfire. The rumors were not unfounded; Killian truly is a heartless bastard, a man who toys with women's hearts, discarding them like mere playthings. The realization of the truth adds salt to the wounds of my shattered heart, deepening the ache within me.

"Wretched creature," one wolf sneers, casting a disdainful glance in my direction. "Why would Killian accept such a person?"

"Indeed," another replies, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "She's nothing but a burden to him."

I feel their gazes upon me, their eyes scanning me from head to toe, assessing every flaw and imperfection. Their scrutiny is suffocating, leaving me feeling exposed and stripped bare of my dignity. The weight of their judgment presses down upon me like an impenetrable darkness.

Amidst the sea of hostility, a voice emerges, cutting through the air with a hint of compassion. "She is still one of our own. Show some respect."

A few pairs of eyes meet mine with understanding and empathy, offering a glimmer of solace in this bleak moment. It is in those eyes that I find a sliver of hope, a reminder that not all wolves are consumed by the same callousness that has shattered my dreams.

"She's not worth our time," a voice retorts dismissively. "Killian made the right choice rejecting her."

The echoes of their ridicule follow me as I am cast aside, discarded like a worthless relic. Their cruel laughter reverberates in my ears, a haunting symphony of scorn that fuels the fire of determination within me. I refuse to be defined by their shallow judgments, by their narrow perception of what is acceptable and worthy.

With trembling steps, I move away from their accusing stares, my head held high in defiance. Each stride is an act of rebellion against their expectations, a declaration that I will not allow their disdain to diminish my worth.

"She's not even worth a second thought," a voice sneers behind me.

"Perhaps you should look beyond appearances," another voice interjects, a touch of frustration evident. "She has a strength you can't comprehend."

As the guards forcefully toss me onto the cold, unforgiving floor, a wave of sadness crashes over me, threatening to engulf me in its sorrowful embrace. My broken leg protests against the rough treatment, and to add insult to injury, one of the guards callously hurls my walking stick at me.

"Leave this premises," the guard commands, his voice filled with contempt, as if my presence is a stain upon their sanctuary. I pick myself up, my movements slow and heavy with the weight of despair, and begin to make my way towards the exit.

But just as I am about to disappear into the solitude of the surrounding woods, a familiar figure emerges from the shadows. It is Diane, the young woman who had entered my room earlier with the news of serving at the annual wolves gathering. Her eyes are filled with regret and sadness as she approaches, wrapping her arms around me in a comforting embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Una," Diane whispers, her voice laced with genuine remorse. "I can't believe Killian would treat you that way."

Tears stream down my face, mingling with the cascading sorrow that has overwhelmed me. "He was my mate," I manage to choke out between sobs. "How could he reject me so callously?"

Diane holds me tighter, her presence a flicker of solace amidst the darkness of my heartache. "I don't understand it either, Una. But know that you deserve better. Killian's actions are a reflection of his own flaws, not yours."

Her words seep into my wounded soul, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the desolation that threatens to consume me. I find solace in her embrace, knowing that in this moment, I am not alone. Together, we navigate the treacherous path of heartbreak, seeking strength in each other's presence.

As the moon casts its gentle glow upon us, I take a deep breath, attempting to gather the fragments of my shattered spirit. The pain still lingers, the rejection still stings, but in the depths of my despair, a seed of resilience begins to sprout.

Diane began with a heavy sigh. "I have to go back to the pack hall."

My eyes widened in disbelief, my heart sinking at the thought of losing Diane's support.

"I'll miss you, Come back as soon as you finish." I whispered, my voice filled with a mixture of sadness and gratitude.

Diane's gaze softened, her hand squeezing my shoulder reassuringly.

As I made my way through the dense woods towards the maid's house, my steps heavy with the weight of disappointment and loneliness, a figure caught my eye. There, on the path ahead, stood an old woman, her face weathered with age and wisdom. Intrigued, I approached her cautiously, unsure of what to expect.

Her eyes, though tired, held a glimmer of warmth as they met mine. The wrinkles etched on her face seemed to tell a thousand stories, and I couldn't help but be drawn to her presence.

"Excuse me, ma'am," I spoke softly, my voice laced with a mix of curiosity and vulnerability. "Do you need any assistance?"

The old woman smiled, her voice carrying a sense of wisdom and serenity. "Ah, my child, it is you who seeks assistance, isn't it? I can sense the pain in your heart."