The Scapegoat: When the Rains Don’t Come

Chapter 2

CLARA

“She’s cursed.”

Sage’s voice carried across the pack meeting, sweet as honey but deadly as poison. I sat in the back corner where I always did, trying to make myself invisible, but every eye in the room turned to me.

“The Moon Goddess is punishing us because of her,” Sage continued. “Think about it, when did the drought start? Right after she tried to claim Alpha Damien as her mate.”

Three weeks. Three weeks since the rejection that had shattered my world, and not a single drop of rain had fallen. The wells were running dry. Crops were withering. Animals were dying.

And now they wanted someone to blame.

“That’s ridiculous,” my mother’s voice cracked from somewhere in the crowd. “Clara hasn’t done anything wrong!”

Elder Morrison stood slowly, his weathered face grave. “The signs are clear, Margaret. Your daughter was rejected by her mate, a sign from the Moon Goddess herself that she is unworthy. And now we suffer.”

“She angered the goddess by reaching above her station,” Sage said, tears glistening in her blue eyes like she actually cared. “By thinking she deserved someone like Damien. The drought won’t end until the source of her anger is removed.”

My chest felt like it was caving in. The broken mate bond still ached constantly, a dull throb that never went away, but this was different. This was the pack I’d grown up with, lived with, bled for, turning against me completely.

“Please,” Dad’s voice broke. “She’s just a child. Our child.”

“A cursed child,” Elder Marek spat. “Look around you, Thomas. The land dies while she remains.”

I wanted to scream that it wasn’t my fault. That I hadn’t asked for any of this. That I was hurting just as much as they were. But the words died in my throat as I saw the hatred in their faces.

“What are you suggesting?” Mom whispered.

Elder Morrison’s voice was final. “Banishment. She must leave pack lands immediately. Only then might the Moon Goddess’s anger be appeased.”

“No!” Mom’s scream pierced the air. “You can’t! She’ll die out there alone!”

“Then perhaps the goddess will finally be satisfied,” Elder Thompson said coldly.

I stood on shaking legs, my voice barely a whisper. “I’ll go.”

The room fell silent except for Mom’s sobbing.

“Clara, no,” Dad begged, reaching for me. “We’ll fight this. We’ll—”

“There’s nothing to fight.” The words tasted like ash. “They’ve made their decision.”

Sage smiled, the expression so beautiful and terrible it made my stomach turn. She’d won. Completely and utterly. First she’d taken Damien—not that he’d ever really been mine—and now she was taking everything else.

“You have until dawn,” Elder Morrison announced. “Then you will be escorted to the border and forbidden from returning, that’s the Alpha’s order.”

The meeting dissolved into murmurs and whispers, but I couldn’t hear them anymore. Everything sounded muffled, distant, like I was underwater. I walked toward the door on unsteady legs, my parents trailing behind me, their pleas and protests falling on deaf ears.

At home, I packed my few belongings while Mom wept and Dad paced like a caged animal. They kept saying they’d come with me, that we’d leave together, but I couldn’t let them sacrifice everything for me. Not when this was all my fault.

“Maybe they’re right,” I whispered as I folded my last clean shirt. “Maybe I am cursed.”

“Don’t you dare,” Mom grabbed my hands, her grip desperate. “Don’t you dare believe their lies.”

But how could I not? Everything I touched seemed to die. My friendship with Damien had been poisoned from the start. The mate bond had shattered within minutes. And now the very land was rejecting me.

Dawn came too quickly and not quickly enough. The pack escort—five warriors who wouldn’t meet my eyes—stood waiting at our door. Behind them, I could see other pack members gathering to watch. Some looked sad, others relieved, but most just looked eager to see the source of their problems finally removed.

“Time to go,” the lead warrior said gruffly.

Mom collapsed against Dad, her sobs echoing through the morning air. “My baby,” she kept saying. “My baby.”

I hugged them one last time, memorizing the feeling of being loved, because I knew I’d never feel it again.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “For everything.”

Then I was walking away from the only home I’d ever known, my small pack on my back, the warriors flanking me like I was a criminal.

At the boundary stones, the warriors stopped.

“You cross that line, you can never come back,” the leader said. “You understand?”

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.

“Any last words?”

I looked back one more time at the pack lands, at the people who’d raised me and then cast me out, at the life I was leaving behind forever.

“I hope the rains come,” I said quietly.

Then I stepped across the boundary, and the world I’d known vanished behind me.

The forest was darker than I’d imagined, older, wilder.

I walked deeper into the woods, my feet following no particular path. What was the point of having a destination when you had nowhere to go? I was exiled, alone, probably going to die out here just like Mom had said.

Maybe that was for the best. Maybe the world would be better without me in it.