Reject Me

“Will you miss me?” Darius asked.

Amara nodded, a slight frown on her face. “Of course, I will miss you. You will be gone for five years,” she murmured, wondering how she was going to live five years of her life without the two boys she had known all her life.

“Don’t worry, I will make sure to communicate with you,” Darius assured her. But Amara knew he was trying to make her feel at ease. From what she had heard, no one in the Alpha Academy receives visitors or talks to anyone outside the Academy.

Only their fathers are allowed to see and speak to them. They believe allowing people to visit will cause distractions.

“I will call you.” Darius tried to speak, but his words were cut short by the low groan of Damon, who had just walked into the dining room.

Amara’s wolf howled loudly in her mind, but she ignored it. It had been a week since they got their wolves, and she had been avoiding Damon, and vice versa.

“What’s for dinner?” Damon asked, while pulling the seat beside Darius.

“Jambalaya,” Amara responded, her voice firm as she tried to hide her discomfort from the two brothers.

“Why jambalaya? Why didn’t you tell the cook to prepare something else for me? You know Darius loves this meal, but I don’t,” Damon spat, pulling out the seat and glaring at Amara.

“Get me something else for lunch—and be fast about it, bastard,” Damon cursed, causing Darius to flare up.

“Damon, what did you just call her?” Darius questioned, rising to his feet. “Did you just call Amara a bastard?” He repeated his question, doing his best to control his temper from exploding.

If Damon had been someone else, he would have thrown a few punches in his face.

Damon raised a brow and gave a loud chuckle before stepping closer to his brother. Now, their faces were just inches apart.

“I called her a bastard because that’s what she is. She’s a maid—a bastard. What will you do about that?”

His sentence was cut off when Darius’s anger flared up, and he grabbed Damon by the collar. Damon did the same, gripping Darius’s collar in return.

Darius and Damon glared at each other haughtily, their faces turning redder by the minute.

Amara watched, her heart pounding, knowing that if they continued this way, it would only escalate into something more dangerous.

“You always think you can talk down to her just because you’re the Alpha’s son,” Darius hissed through clenched teeth. “But that doesn’t give you the right to treat her like trash.”

Damon smirked, his eyes narrowing. “And you think playing the hero will change the fact that she’s still just a bastard? You’re fooling yourself, Darius. She’s beneath us, and deep down, you know it.”

Darius’s eyes lit up in anger, but he forced himself to stay composed. “You’re wrong. Amara is worth more than your pathetic insults. You’re just scared because you’re intimidated by her, and you can’t handle it.”

Damon’s expression darkened, the truth in Darius’s words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit.

“Intimidated,” he spat, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “I can never be intimidated by a bastard, and you’re a fool for thinking anything could come of this.”

Amara’s heart ached at Damon’s words, but she remained silent, feeling the tension between the brothers reaching its breaking point.

“Say whatever you want,” Darius said, his voice dangerously low, “but don’t ever call her a bastard again. You might be my brother, but I won’t tolerate you disrespecting Amara.”

Before Damon could respond, the door to the dining room swung open, and their father, Alpha Richardson, strode in. His presence was commanding, his gaze instantly taking in the scene before him.

“What is going on here?” Alpha Richardson demanded, his voice a deep growl that silenced both brothers.

Darius quickly released Damon’s collar, taking a step back, while Damon straightened up, trying to regain his composure.

“Nothing, Father,” Damon muttered, avoiding his father’s gaze.

Alpha Richardson’s eyes narrowed as he looked between his sons, and then at Amara, who stood quietly, her discomfort evident. The brothers, who loved each other dearly and had never fought, were now at each other’s throats because of her.

“I won’t tolerate such behaviour in my house,” he said sternly. “Whatever this is, it ends now.”

Darius nodded, anger still bubbling inside him. Damon, on the other hand, merely grunted in acknowledgement, refusing to meet his father’s eyes.

“We will talk about this later. For now, both of you need to cool off.”

With that, he turned and left, leaving the two brothers seething in anger.

Then Damon grunted, kicked a stool, and walked out of the dining room too.

Damon stormed into his room and slammed the door. Different emotions were tugging at his heart—anger, pain, and jealousy—tearing him apart.

Grabbing his phone, he called Benita, urging her to come to the mansion. An excited Benita assured him she was on her way.

Throwing the phone on the bed, Damon paced around his room, his hand running through his hair as he tried to control himself, especially the constant howling of his wolf urging him to go to Amara.

“Stop it! Can you just stop it? You know I can’t be with her! Why can’t you just understand?” Damon yelled at his wolf, who paid no heed to his pleas.

“She’s ours, Damon, and there’s nothing you or anyone can do about it,” his wolf muttered, causing him to groan.

Moments later, there was a knock on his door. Damon opened it to find Benita standing there, her eyes filled with desire for him.

He didn’t waste any time pulling her inside and shutting the door behind them. Without a word, he captured her lips in a rough kiss, his need to escape the turmoil inside him overpowering everything else.

Benita responded eagerly, her hands tangling in his hair as she pressed herself closer to him. She was just a distraction, a means to forget his feelings, even if only for a moment.

Their kiss deepened, becoming more intense as Damon tried to lose himself in the sensation, pushing away the thoughts of Amara and his wolf’s relentless howling.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t completely silence the voice inside him—the one that whispered that this wasn’t what he truly wanted.

Damon broke the kiss, stepping away from Benita, who understood, and began taking off her clothes. She had done this several times before, so she knew what Damon liked.

Without wasting any time, she climbed on the bed and, like a seasoned seductress, positioned herself according to Damon’s preference.

Damon, on the other hand, didn’t wait any longer. He had to get away from Amara, her presence, and the constant thought of her that was driving him mad every waking hour of the day.

He climbed on the bed and looked at Benita’s face again. It was nowhere close to being as beautiful as Amara’s.

“Don’t do it,” his wolf growled.

“This is the only way,” he muttered to himself.

Benita was a little concerned because Damon did not seem like himself of late. She thought it must be something to do with her.

She said, pulling Damon by the arm towards herself. “Tell me what you want, Damon. What can I do to satisfy you?”

Damon’s quivering heart was tempted with throngs of desire. Soon they were engaged in having sex.

Just then, the door to Damon’s room swung open, and Amara entered, looking like she was in extreme pain.

“What the hell?” Damon blurted, jumping out of bed and trying to cover himself from Amara. But it was already too late. She had seen everything.

Right before her was her mate—Damon, the man she loved—in bed with another woman. It was a big blow to her, having caught them red-handed like this, and she felt like bursting into tears.

But she swallowed her pain, inhaled deeply, and prepared herself for what she was about to say.

“Reject me, Damon. Let’s do it now,” she demanded, tears blurring her vision.