Rejection Pays A Price

Chapter Two

_______________________________________

Chapter Two:

_______________________________________

~Tamara Rose

_______________________________________

Everything inside of me ached. As the kitchen slowly cleared out, several people shot me a few confused looks. I’m sure they were puzzled. They had the right to be, after all. Why would Dylan banish a pack member for simply breaking a dish?

My lips trembled as tears began welling up in my eyes. His words repeated over and over in my head, a constant reminder of the most torturous moment I’d ever had to stand through up until this point of my life.

“And I reject you as my mate.”

Of course he wanted me gone. It may not make sense to the rest of the pack, but it was clearer than water to me. Dylan had ignored our bond since the day I discovered he was my mate. His rejection hadn’t hurt as much then because I had always consoled myself with the thought that he was perhaps waiting for the right day to declare our bond official.

But now it was over. He needed me to leave the house because it would be easier that way for him to pretend I didn’t exist. For him to pretend I wasn’t his soulmate.

For him to pretend I was nothing.

My wolf howled deep inside of me, clawing at my mind. She was devastated. How could our mate reject us so easily? It was unheard of.

I pushed her gently to the back of my mind, where she could mourn in peace. Slowly, the way a zombie would walk, I made my way up the stairs to my bedroom. My hands dug out an old duffel bag and placed a few items in it. I didn’t own much, so the process took several minutes at most.

There was no one to be seen as I climbed back down the stairs. The door was already open, and my heart jerked in pain at the sight. How eager was he for me to leave?

Very, it would appear. No goodbye—nothing. I stepped through the threshold with a final lingering wisp of misery.

And then something inside of me snapped.

Anger crept to the surface of my brain, boiling over in no time at all. I felt my face twist into a scowl and ferocious snarl ripped past my lips. It was loud—enough for every wolf in the pack house to hear.

I didn’t care. Lifting my chin, I allowed the last few tears leaking from my eyes to slide down my cheeks as I walked confidently into the woods.

________________________________________

Being a werewolf was risky business. Being a werewolf who didn’t belong to a pack—otherwise known as a rogue—was deadly.

I had passed the boundaries marking the Sierra County pack territory and was now trekking unfamiliar ground. The scents of other wolves lifted to my nostrils, and it was difficult to avoid cringing.