Chapter 3 - Rejected

Ava's POV

Horland had never seen me before, and it could only mean one of two things.

One, I might have come to town in search of supernatural creatures. After all, rumors about this place ran rampant beyond its borders, and the name of the town only fueled them.

Two, I was new here, and judging by his guarded expression, the latter was more likely.

The town rarely had new people, but I’d heard there were a few. A male from the Commoners pack, a wandering werewolf taken in, and then… the weird Goldington girl. The one who was me.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice deep, measured, though there was something else behind it. A strange pull that mirrored my own. My heart was beating faster now, and I could tell his senses were just as heightened as mine.

I took a step forward, trying to steady myself, and looked at the gun still aimed in my direction. "Can you drop the gun, please? It’s kind of scary," I asked, forcing a boldness into my voice that I didn’t quite feel.

He didn't answer at first, hiding the gun behind his back. His eyes swept over me, his expression cautious, as if he were evaluating something. He could probably tell I was one of them by my scent, though I knew it was faint. I wasn’t sure why, but I had always struggled to hide or control my wolf’s essence.

His heart seemed to race, and I could sense it. His wolf, just like mine, was threatening to break free. That’s when I realized what this was.

The sudden realization hit me as his animalistic growl echoed in the clearing.

‘Mate!’ My wolf howled inside me, and I could feel the bond, as confusing as it was. I barely knew him, and yet, my entire being yearned for him.

"I... I just realized—" I began, trying to make sense of the pull.

"That we are mates?" he finished for me, stepping forward with a knowing glint in his eyes. There was no denying it now, the connection was undeniable. His presence pulled at something deep within me.

He introduced himself, "Horland Green."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling the pressure of the moment. "Ava Goldington," I replied, trying to remain composed.

At the mention of my name, he froze, his demeanor instantly changing. His gaze darkened, and any softness or curiosity that had been there moments ago disappeared.

"The abomination?" he spat the words, his voice dripping with disgust, and I felt my heart shatter in that single breath.

"No, that’s not true! I can explain—" I tried to defend myself, but he raised his hand, silencing me before I could finish.

"I’d rather be mateless than be tied to someone like you," he sneered, taking a step back, his entire body radiating rejection.

The pain of his words hit me harder than I expected. It was a cruel slap from reality, and all the hope I had been clinging to since finding out he was my mate crumbled before me.

Desperate, I took a step forward, trying to make him see—feel—what I was feeling, but he pulled the gun back out, aiming it at me with cold eyes.

"One more step, and I won’t hesitate to shoot. These bullets are silver," he said, his voice cold, the warning clear.

My heart ached, my mind reeled, and for the first time in a long time, I felt truly, utterly rejected. Without a word, I turned and ran, leaving behind the possibility of any connection.

But I wasn’t one to give up easily.

I decided I would visit him every day, force him to see me, understand me. I knew the mate bond was strong, stronger than myths or prejudice. So, I cooked for him, dressed up, and made my way back to the forest, determined to win him over.

When I reached the clearing, he was standing with a group of men. They stopped talking the moment they noticed me, and Horland immediately facepalmed, as though I were nothing but an annoying nuisance.

"Hello," I greeted him, hoping for a small chance to break through.

"I told you not to come here again," he replied, his tone as hard as ever.

I ignored it and stepped forward, holding out the lunchbox I had prepared. "You haven’t even given us a chance yet."

The men with him looked between us, clearly confused by my persistence.

Horland waved them off dismissively. "She thinks she’s my mate," he explained to them with a sigh. Without warning, he grabbed the lunchbox from my hands and threw it deep into the forest. "I made myself clear. Never come here again."

The rejection hit harder than before, but I held back my tears, refusing to be seen as weak. I turned around and left, my heart heavier with each step.

Over the next few days, I tried again. And again. But no matter what I did, Horland despised me more with each attempt. Eventually, I gave up. I couldn’t force him to accept me. All I could do was hope for a quiet existence in this pack, despite the constant rejection and the whispers of "abomination" that followed me.

Then the second full moon came. I had spent the entire week preparing for my second transition, determined to show everyone I was not what they thought. The pain was unbearable, but I succeeded. I shifted, howling at the moon, only for the other wolves to back away, their eyes filled with the same disgust I had come to expect.

After shifting back, weak and exhausted, I heard the screams.

I barely had the strength to move, but I knew something was wrong. Crawling toward the sounds, I saw chaos unfolding. Wolves were tearing into each other, bodies littered the ground, and those still in human form were being slaughtered before they could shift.

Realizing I was in danger, I ran, my body too weak to fight, my mind too clouded to think clearly. I grabbed my father’s journal from my room and fled through the northern gate into the forest, the sound of growls closing in behind me.

I knew I couldn’t outrun them. A wolf caught up to me, throwing me against a tree with brutal force. My vision blurred as I tried to stand, my body too weak to respond.

This was it. I was going to die.

But then, something happened.

The wolf attacking me was suddenly thrown aside by a powerful force, and through my fading vision, I saw a pair of white eyes. I couldn’t make out the face, but the aura surrounding the figure was comforting, familiar, and warm.

A hand reached out, gently touching my forehead, and before I succumbed to unconsciousness, I managed a small smile.

Maybe I had found my light in the darkness after all.