You Rejected Me Remember Novels & Stories

The weight of the girl's rejection as his Mate pressed down upon him, a bitter pill to swallow. "I reject you as my Mate," she declared, her words piercing the silence. Adam's gaze dropped to his feet, a mix of sadness and resignation etched upon his face. The pain of the rejection seared through his heart, but he knew that accepting it was the only path forward. His voice steady, Adam replied, "I accept the rejection." It was a solemn affirmation, an acknowledgment of the love that would forever remain unfulfilled. The girl's smile, though tinged with a touch of sadness, spoke volumes of her gratitude for his understanding.

Not when this anger inside me is still living and breathing. He didn't care either. Because the bastard only let out a laugh before boring his eyes into mine. “Ohhh. Did I crush your ego? Making you feel less of yourself? Did you actually want to be seen as useful? It must be hard being a reject all the time?” Reject. Reject. Reject. A sea of memories flooded my mind. Everything I endured years ago came back to me at the mention of that word. My other hand was fisted by my side. And streaks of red flicked through my line of sight. I was about to submit to my anger. And I wouldn't stop it this time.

I never imagined it would come to this. Fern, the woman who had made my heart race and driven me to distraction—the woman I had once viewed as a tool for revenge—had rejected me so decisively. I closed my eyes and recalled that moment—her icy words cutting through my heart like a sharp blade: "I'm going to REJECT you." Those words echoed in my mind, piercing every nerve and filling me with a storm of rage, stripping away her freedom altogether.

But because he was a high-ranking son of a beta, I decided to reject him. It was a painful rejection that I made sure Omnibus would forget about me. I tampered with his memories. Someone did it for me to completely erase me from his memories. I wanted him to forget the memory of being rejected. The memory of my existence.

"My turn… Do you want to reject me?" "Yes and no. You hurt me, I won't deny that. That moment… The one that every girl dreams of. That we’ll find our mate and it’ll be a beautiful moment, the way Mom used to tell me about hers and Dads… but mine is just this dark… painful… agonising memory. My mate who’s meant to love me told another woman to just ignore me and carried on making out. I will never forget that... Yet at the same time…I don’t know… I don’t think in my heart I can reject you right now..." I nibbled at the brownie, not wanting my emotions to surface.

"If you hate me so much why don't you reject me? " " I can not reject you even if I want to. If I reject you then you will be dead and if you reject me then you will feel severe pain that you can not handle. You got your answer.Now get out of my room.I do not want to see your face anymore.Your face is giving me a headache".

[Anything you want. [Including you?] The memory of his touch—possessive, primal, yet strangely reverent—flashed through my mind. I typed back: [That’s an option.] I waited, my heart thudding, expecting the sound of a luxury engine in the street below. [I have pack business tonight. Perhaps another time.] The rejection was like a douse of ice water. I stared at the screen, the realization hitting me: it was over. He was done with his "Mercer experiment."

He had no right. “Don’t you dare" I started slowly. “Don’t you fucking dare say a word. Let me refresh your fucking memory; you rejected me, Damien Creed. You rejected me like I was nothing!” I snapped, and he shut his eyes. I suppose he had forgotten, and I will gladly remind him.

"That's a lot of mystery for a man who claims to be honest." "I'm being as honest as I can without telling you things you're not ready to hear." "Try me," she said. "I just got publicly discarded by the man the universe decided was my fated match. My capacity for bad news is at an all-time high." That did get a reaction — brief, almost involuntary. Something shifted in his expression. It wasn't pity. It was something more complex than pity and considerably less comfortable to look at. "The rejection," he said. "Did it hurt?"

His fingers dig in hard enough that I know there'll be a bruise by tonight. "My mate isn't going anywhere." The words hang in the cold morning air, ugly and possessive, and every single person in that clearing goes still. "You rejected me," I say, voice shaking despite everything I do to steady it. "Last night. In front of everyone. You don't get to grab me the morning after and pretend that didn't happen." "Doesn't matter what I said." His grip tightens. "You're still mine. That doesn't change just because I was angry."