REJECTED
Evelyn Stones felt the smile erasing from her face and her hands shakily clenched the sheets.
“What…” she stopped, struggling to breathe. She wasn’t claustrophobic so why was she struggling so hard to breathe? Why did the room suddenly feel so suffocating? Or was it just the aftereffect of those harsh, life-altering words?
“What did you just say?” she finally asked, shutting her eyes in tears, praying to the moon goddess that he wouldn’t repeat it.
“I said I wanna end this. Let’s go our separate ways, Evelyn.” Damon, her mate for two years, repeated ever so coldly, staring disdainfully into the crib where the son she had just given birth to an hour ago was lying.
“You-you can’t possibly mean that,” Evelyn struggled between tears, breathing, and getting the words out. Her distressed gaze looked around the hospital room.
She just f*****g gave birth! It hadn't even been a day! She was exhausted. Mentally displaced. In pain. This was neither the right place nor the right moment to play such a sick joke on her.
Except, it didn’t sound like a joke. She knew him well enough to know when he was kidding and this wasn’t it. Which was why she was instantly panicking at his words.
She was itching to go over to him, but with those fisted hands of his, she knew deep down it was safer for her to maintain a good distance from him. Just until the mood cleared.
Damon might be the most handsome and breathtaking man she’s ever seen. He could be f*****g sexy but he undeniably had a crappy temper, which made him get abusive sometimes - physically abusive. She still had the gashes from the times he got carried away. She didn’t wanna go through that agony now, so yeah, she stayed put on the bed.
“But-but why?” her voice faltered with tears. Damon shot her a dead look that made her quiver in fear.
“Why? You just f*****g gave birth to a defective child! This thing!” he bellowed, pointing at the baby in the crib, “will bring me so much agony, and I’m never letting that happen. So while it’s early, I’m cutting ties with it, and I’m cutting ties with you.”
Evelyn could no longer hold back the tears choking her. He hadn’t just hurt her verbally; he was also hurting their child. In their two years of being married, she’d wanted nothing more than to bear his child. It was pathetic but she’d hoped it would make him love her even more.
How over the moon she’d been when the doctor gave her the news of her pregnancy. How fulfilled she’d felt a while back after successfully pushing the child out of her. And then her world had shattered before her eyes when the doctor examined her child and said he was defective, something about a weak immune system and needing a bone marrow transplant.
It was the saddest news of her life, but at the very least, she gave birth to a child, right? A male child. Damon wouldn’t feel so disappointed, or so she’d hoped. Because right now, he wasn’t just disappointed; he was raging.
“Damon, please…” she slowly took the courage and left the bed. She took a few steps closer to him and she paused. “Please, don't do this. Our child will get treated. The doctors promised—”
“Damn the doctors!! And damn those stupid tears of yours!” He snapped, growing more aggressive. “Don't you get it? Do I gotta f*****g spell it out for you?”
“Get what?” Evelyn was a sobbing mess, quivering hard at the pain from his words and the tears fighting for their way out.
“I can't do this anymore,” Damon seethed in a harsh whisper with an exhausted sigh. “I can't put up with you anymore. I'm f*****g exhausted. I need you out of my damn life so I could breathe a little. Do you understand that or not?!”
It was too daring for her to challenge him with questions. But she was itchy to do it.
She needed to know which one of her actions was his final straw. She needed to know what point he got to and made that decision.
Was it after seeing this child, or was it something he calculated beforehand? She needed to know that little. She deserved to know that little. But how would she find the courage to ask?
Instead, she resorted to more pleading. "Damon, please. Please don't do this. I know you're upset. You have every reason to be but don't make rash decisions. Don't do this to us, please..."
“I don't wanna make this messier than it already is. So this is what you're gonna do, yeah?” Damon got closer like he didn't want to be in earshot.
But his proximity only made this moment more torturous for Evelyn. His alluring scent. His whiff. Every bit of him that her hands explored in their rough lovemaking session. Having him this close exploded those memories in her head.
They weren't the best memories but they were her memories with him, and she’d never trade them for anything. She'd never wanna recreate them with another either.
She could never love another. How couldn't he see that and have a bit of compassion for her?
“You'll take this child of yours and you'll quietly leave this Pack. You'll never step foot in my house again. If you try to fight your way back, you leave me no choice but to ruin you…”
Evelyn shuddered at his cold, livid threats. Looking up, she felt chills running down her spine at the iciness in his eyes. He meant every word. He was carelessly discarding her and he wasn't kidding about it.
“I, Damon Blackwood, Alpha of Crimson Moon Pack, reject you as my mate and Luna.” He gritted out, sucking in a wince.
The pain from his rejection crawled into her heart. Made her realize he was feeling the sting but trying to keep it down with just an inaudible wince.
“Accept my rejection,” he bellowed impatiently, grabbing her arms and digging his fingers into her skin.
“Damon!” she cried out in pain.
“Accept it, goddammit!” He lashed a slap to her face, numbing it hard.
She gasped at the impact but he was still holding her arm. Tighter.
“If the doctors walk in here and you're yet to accept my rejection, then you leave me no choice but to ask them to kill that child. It's better off dead anyway.”
“Wh-what?” Her eyes popped in alarm. He wouldn't do that, would he?
Yeah, he would! Because he was that much of a cold-hearted monster. He wouldn't bat a lash if he chose to hurt her son.
“What's it gonna be, Evelyn? Are you gonna get the f**k out of my life or do I make it even more miserable?” His words echoed raw venom.
She gulped, fighting to get the words out. She still wanted to plead and cry, but she knew that wouldn't solve anything.
So, with her heart smashed into pieces, she said the words. “I…I accept your rejection.”
“Good.” He pushed her aside and walked out. And then she smelled it. An extra whiff on him. Strong, dominating, and feminine.
Her heart ached even more as she realized It wasn't hers. Who owned that scent?