Rejection

Cara

“If you want to play tough, then I'm game.” He growls, tossing me onto his bed, a fierce hunger in his eyes. “I love a good challenge every once in a while. I prefer a mate who fights, than one who just cower and lays there like a sack. Undress yourself. Now.”

I bounce on the mattress and rush, dragging my knees forward as I curl myself close to the wall, far away from him, my heart pounding wildly against my chest for escape. Fear makes me rigid. Makes me slow and before I know it, he leans over and catches my arm, then drag me toward him. His hands fall in my gown, his nails digging through the thin fabric, ripping it even more.

Seized with fear, a scream wrenches out of my throat, and I tussle him off blindly, launching a well-targeted upper cut at his jaw. “Leave me alone, you monster!”

He barely stumbles back from the impact of my fist against his jaw. When I try to throw him a second punch, he catches my hand, his lips curling up into a manic smile, his eyes hovering over my exposed thighs as he licks his lips. “Look at those fine legs. That awesome body. All for me. You better start hoping that when I knot inside you, your beautiful body bears me equally beautiful pups or else...” He trails off, his left hand caressing my skin.

His words are like a blow to my stomach, and I'm suddenly gasping for air, tears free falling faster than a waterfall. I'm crying because my sisters. I'm crying because of myself. I'm crying because of what lays ahead for me. I'm crying because his words automatically destroys everything I've hoped for. He grabs my wrists again and yanks me forward. I collide against his solid chest, the smell of whiskey in his breath so pungent I almost vomit at the foul stench.

“Stop fighting this, my love. Can't you feel our wolves. Can't you hear them calling out for each other. Impatient to knot? Can't you. I know you do. You're not going anywhere, little mate. I can smell your arousal. I know you want this. You want me as much as I want you and I don't mind fucking you for a week if I have to.”

My fingers grasp onto his strong arms, my nails digging into his flesh as I fight harder to get him off. But my efforts are useless. Ronan is twice my size, and stronger. I can't fight him with my physical strength.

My she-wolf rises as if beckoned, and true to his words, we're soulmates. There's no denying the fact that the Moon Goddess made no mistake in pairing the both of us. But this isn't who I want. This isn't who I expected. I'd anticipated that the man my wolf would pick would be someone noble at least, or someone nice and attractive who I'm attracted to, both brain and body, and not just body as it's the case with Ronan. Everything about him repulses me. Everything about his scares me. He is meant to be my protector, my savior. A shield against this inhuman, cruel world, but now it feels as if he's the one I should be scared of and protect myself from.

“Yes, baby. I can taste the smell of your heat at the back of my throat. You have no idea how long I've waited for this. How well you drive me crazy with just the smell of your cunt.” He releases me abruptly, causing me to plop down on my butt on the bed, sweat trickling down my temples and my forehead. I snap my legs shut and draw them up to my chest, trying to cover them with what remains of my dress.

This isn't what I envisioned. This isn't how I wanted things to be.

Oh, fates.

Ronan tugs at his sweaty shirt, before pulling it over his head and tossing it behind him, revealing a smooth, flawless body, but I'm not moved in the slightest. Instead the sight of his bulge makes me want to pass out.

I wrap my arms tightly around me, shuddering. “P-Please. Can we go slower? This is all... fast. Oh, fates.”

He smiles at first, exposing sharp dentition before bursting into raucous laughter. The kind that feel like pins are being dumped on you. Sharp, needle-like pins.

“Shut the fuck up and get that rag off,” he demands, his eyes holding no tenderness, no compassion as he points at the messy remainder of my torn dress.

I dart my eyes about, searching for the nearest exit, the nearest window, which I find a few metres behind him. It's big enough for me to scale through without a hassle if I'm fast enough. I'm confident I'll survive the drop down if I shift into my wolf and then run back to the Omega quarters to get Leora and Hana. I don't care if we have to leave Red Moon Pack to be safe from the wrath of the Alphas.

But to what end?

We'll most likely be eaten up by rogues or killed one way or the other. This is for my family. For my sister's and our futures, but I don't know if I'll be able to go throw with it without crying and loathing myself afterwards. Sobs ripple through me as I stare at this devil. This big bully who's no way an understanding mate. Who cares for nothing but my body, and how to satisfy himself. Goosebumps fill my arms as I sit there hugging my knees, not obeying his command.

Without warning he reaches for my ankle and drag me closer with a grunt, my dress riding up to my breasts, my white torn panties exposed. I whimper, clawing savagely at the mattress, and manage to scramble out of his reach. He draws back for a minute, then leans even more forward and slides a hand up between my legs.

Sparks explode, my skin tingling from that single touch. I'm torn between my brain screaming at me to fight him with all I've got and run, and my wolf clamouring for him. My body betrays me, craving more of his touch. His bite. His tongue.

Oh, fuck.

“Ronan, please. I'm begging — ”

“Enough!” The bastard cuts me off with a resounding slap across my left cheek. He's got large hands, and an even larger palm and the unexpected strike has me jerking back on the bed, tears blurring my vision as I clutch my cheek, tasting blood. Tasting inhumanity.

My face burns as if someone rubbed hot coals on it. It takes all my willpower not to break down and wail at my cruel fate.

I've never seen my father hit my mother. I've never seen mates fight at all. Never.

Ronan's hand once again snakes up my legs, with twice as much urgency than the first time, before I can clench them shut. He hikes all five fingers around the loose white band and it takes just one pull to rip it off. I shout, but the sound dies in my throat, a stronger, unfamiliar feeling taking over.

Anger.

It jolts through me, first bursting up my stomach, then my throat, and I scream. With my scream comes sparks of power, surging through my veins, racing down my arms so fast, I'm too late to stop them.

Black tendrils like smoke dance out of palms and shoot outward, circling his arms and biting through his flesh like leeches.

He shouts from the pain and moves backward, clutching his arm. I stare at the injury, a feeling worse than pain slicing through my heart. “Fates, have mercy!” I cry out, frozen in fear.

He looks his arm over, biting his bottom lip, the fizzle of power still burning up his arm, draining the colour out of his face. Panic etched on his features.

I'm done for.

It's over.

He's going to ruin me. He's going to report me to Markus and I'll be executed.

Wolves aren't meant to possess magic. Bad bloods are treated like vermin and exterminated before they hurt the rest. It's a law. It's how things work.

“Who the fuck are you?” He speaks up at last, hastily scrambling to his feet as he tries to put some distance between us.

I wrench my gaze to the dark marks on his arm as he tries to rub it them off, groaning in pain. I've just harmed him. Those burn marks will never come off no matter how much he scrubs. They'll always be permanent. They'll always serve as some sort of reminder to him. That his mate is dangerous. That she's got magical powers.

“Shit, it's not coming off,” he's close to crying, practically scratching frantically. “What did you do to me?”

“It's nothing, Ronan! Nothing! I'm so sorry. I promise I'll cooperate this time. I'll do as you say, just calm down.”

He stares at me, his brows knotted together, raw fear swirling in his eyes. It's like he no longer sees me as his mate, but a demon. A dangerous creature. “Tell me the fucking truth,” he barks, curling his hand into a fist. “Who are you? What are you?”

I hurry off the bed on the other side, setting a safe distance between us. I know I'm a hybrid. A half-witch, half-shifter. But what I don't know is why I came out of the world like this. Why I can't seem to get a grip on my magic.

“Relax, Ronan. It's still me. Cara. Your mate. Your sweetheart,” I splutter in a rush, hoping I sound convincing enough to him. Hana had warned me. My parents had practically drummed it into my head while they were alive to hide this part of myself. To suppress my magic instead of learning how to control it. They didn't know that the more I sought to suppress my powers and identity as a witch, the more they grew. They blossomed.

“Like fuck you are,” he scoffs, turning to wench his shirt off the floor and rubbing his fingers on the fabric. “I don't know who you turned into, but you're not my mate. Fate forbid I have a witch as a mate. You're a Ruined, aren't you? A dirty, stinking bad blood!”

I hurry to his sides, clasping my hands together. If Markus finds out, he'll kill me and my sisters. Possessing magic is highly intolerant. “I'm a mere wolf like you Ronan,” I insist, fear making me choke. “I'm not a witch. I swear. Please don't go. Let's make this work. I promise I won't resist you.” I reach for his hand but he flips me off, his face scrunching up, lips twisting in disgust.

“Don't fucking touch me, you filthy witch. I, Ronan Astor reject you, Cara Archer as my mate. From this moment forward you cease to exist to me. Get out of my way!” He shoves me aside roughly, grabs his belt from the floor and storms out.