rejected by my mate claimed by his Father

I stood outside the school gate, my body frozen as if cast in ice, my heart thudding wildly behind a cage of ribs that felt too tight to breathe in. Dread wrapped cold fingers around my insides, tightening with every tick of the second hand. The moment held the weight of a thousand storms—each promise of humiliation, each whisper aimed at me, pressing down like iron chains, heavy and inescapable. My feet refused to move. I tried to will myself backward, away from the gathering crowd, away from the school that had never felt like a home. Away from the whispered curses like poison dripping from every lip. I ached to fold myself beneath my blanket at home, shielded from the cold world that wanted to strip me bare. But instinct, or something darker, pushed me forward. Not today. Not anymore. I swallowed past the lump swelling in my throat, taking a breath so deep it burned my lungs, like breathing fire through grit and dust. Head bowed low, I stepped over the threshold of that gate and into a storm waiting to consume me. The moment my feet crushed the cracked concrete, a rolling wave of voices erupted, gnashing and snapping like a pack of wolves scenting weakness. “Look. The wolfless is coming.” “Complete disgrace to the pack. How does she even still walk among us?” “She’s nothing but a ghost. Hollow and empty.” Each word was a dagger sliding beneath my skin. Heat flushed my cheeks but no amount of blood would protect me from this. I felt like a spectacle, cursed and consumed with hatred. My muscles trembled as the crowd’s venom seeped through the air, settling in my bones. I caught a sharp breath, eyes instinctively dropping to the concrete, head swathed behind a veil of hair. Invisible. That was all I wanted. To disappear like I belonged nowhere. But the voices burrowed deeper, relentless. “I really feel sorry for her,” someone whispered, spitting the words like a curse, “Wish she’d vanish.” The tears I fought back throbbed behind my lids. A scream clawed at my throat but stayed muffled, swallowed by shame. I was broken long before I entered. And then— Out of nowhere, I hit something unyielding. A wall of warmth and strength. I stumbled back, my cheek brushing against a broad chest shrouded in a scent dark and wild. It was fierce, intoxicating—raw like wildfire, threatening to ignite something buried deep inside me, something I didn’t understand or want to understand. My eyes flickered upward, meeting a gaze colder than ice, sharper than a blade. Keal. Heir of Alpha Damon. His face carved from stone, his eyes twin glaciers burning with silent rage and unspoken fury. His jaw clenched tight, white-knuckled fists at his sides. His expression said one thing loud and clear: “You don’t belong.” My stomach lurched painfully, as if betrayed by my own blood — caught in a brutal twist I didn’t want to name. Was it fear? Or a maddening, aching craving I didn’t deserve? The crowd around us held its breath, words now barely whispers, but sharper than daggers. “Oh my God, she’s dead.” “She bumped into Keal, the heir.” “She’s begging for trouble.” “Does she have any luck or just nothing but misery?” I lowered my head, feeling the burn of shame scorch harder than pain. I wanted to disappear beneath the earth itself. Keal’s eyes locked onto mine like a predator zeroing in on prey. “You belong nowhere here,” he said, his voice low, cold enough to freeze the marrow in my bones. “Stay out of my way.” Before I could find any words—anything—but silence, the clicking of boots echoed sharply down the hall. I didn’t look back and yet knew immediately who was approaching. I had run from them for so long, but luck was never on my side. “Well, well, well…” The voice slithered through the air, coated in honey and barbed thorns. Cruel amusement danced in the tone, sharp and mocking like shattered glass. “If it isn’t the wolfless bitch.” Rihanna stepped forward, poised and cruel like a queen grinning before a conquered kingdom. Her thick curls bounced lightly as she smirked with dangerous sparkle in her eyes. Her voice cut through the tension, slicing the murmurs into silence. Behind her, her pack of snarling concubines closed in, their laughter cold and hungry — predators circling a wounded animal. Diana led the group, eyes narrowed into hateful slits, her sneer like a claw raking my soul. Rihanna’s fingers traced a possessive path along Keal’s arm, lips pressing to his mouth with new ownership. They didn’t even bother to hide it. Keal was hers, and here I was—the unwelcome shadow in their world. “Let me deal with this… thing,” Rihanna’s voice dropped to a silky hiss, thick with danger and promise. “She doesn’t deserve your time, Keal.” Keal stood like stone — tight jaw twitching, muscles taut and silent — battling something fierce under that calm exterior. My trembling breath escaped in a whisper, voice cracked with fear and pleading. “Please… please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. Just… let me go.” Rihanna’s laugh was a bitter silence breaker — soft but sharp enough to slice open skin. “Let you go?” She let her pen slip from her fingers, clattering to the floor with a hollow ring that echoed like a challenge. Slowly, she bent down to pick it up, eyes locked onto mine with a wicked grin. “Fine,” she said. “I will let you go—with a price.” Her smirk was a shadowstorm, dark and dangerous, filled with the promise of torment. Diana’s voice cut in, sharp and impatient, stepping menacingly closer. “What are you looking at?” she snarled. “Didn’t you hear her? Pick it up, wolfless.” I bent down, hands shaking uncontrollably, breath caught in my chest. And then— Without warning, something cold dripped, then poured down my cheek. I froze. Sticky. Humiliating. My eyes shot upward, heart hammering painfully in the sudden thunderous silence. It was spit. Their spit. Rihanna’s cruel mark—you can’t defeat me, I own this space, you’re nothing. I blinked back tears, raw and unbidden, but still I didn’t cry. My throat locked tight; words caught in a vise of brokenness. I gazed downward through blurred vision—watching the wet stains spread across my shirt, proof of everything they thought I was. I had no words to fight. Only shame, crushing and relentless. The flood of everything I’d tried to bury surged beneath my ribs, threatening to break through. Behind me, indistinct laughter rose and fell like waves crashing over a sunken ship. Tears streaked silently down my face, burning as they mixed with the spit. I felt small — a fragile weed beaten by the storm. The ground beneath me seemed to tremble, as if it longed to open and swallow me whole, to end this nightmare. But I stood there. Frozen. Exposed. Stripped of dignity. Because no matter how much I wanted to run— There was nowhere left to run.