Filed To Story: Alpha's Regret: His Wrongful Rejection
We stop at the bluff where the river splits. I gaze down, and a silver-white wolf stares back, the ripples in the water ruffling her coat. Nia’s wolf trots over and collapses, panting. Bevan flops down beside her.
It’s not until they’re next to me that it finally sinks in, and I fully realize what I’m seeing.
I am the biggest wolf I have ever seen.
I am the biggest wolf anyone has ever seen.
My mate, the future alpha, rejected me in front of the entire school, and I could probably eat him in three bites.
Well, damn.
Ain’t Fate a bitch.
Chapter 3
3
CADOC
I want to pitch the males in my entourage over the hedge along the path to the Research and Technology Center. Aside from Seth, they run their mouths incessantly, flirting with the females who flock to me, trying to insinuate themselves into my orbit. I am walking status after all.
The scavenger has my earbuds, so I can’t block them out like usual.
My mate has my earbuds.
My chest warms, and my muscles itch. I’m walking in the wrong direction, away from where she disappeared. I have no choice but to force myself to keep going, but I’m trudging against a current—biology, Fate, both—I don’t know.
Rosie is the other way. She left with her friends. I felt her leave. The pain lifted, but not the feedback rattling my brain. My body’s primed to leap or bolt. I’m dropping the ball. I’m watching myself do it. I’m making myself do it.
Beads of sweat trickle down my spine.
Rosie was trembling under that bulky, ratty hoodie, but she was brave. A scavenger has never dared approach me before, let alone in front of a crowded room. I’m sure she was driven by heat, but all the same, she did it.
Brave doesn’t equal safe, though, and she’s out there alone.
No, not alone. She has the pierced female and the male with the gold teeth with her, and when I pulled myself together enough to leave the Commons, I had the wherewithal to send Derwyn to track them.
She was hurting, her deep, warm brown eyes shining, begging me to help her.
Vomit scores my throat. I swallow it down as a Powell opens the door to the lecture hall and I stride in, acknowledging the bowed heads with a slight nod.
Rosie was hurting, but she didn’t dissolve into hysterics. She didn’t beg or scream at me. She kept her chin up, and her mouth shut. She’s tough like all scavengers.
She’ll be fine. My heart slams against my sternum, but I take my seat in the front row. A Dee passes me my laptop. When I’m settled, the instructor begins. I feign attention, level my gaze at the podium and summon her up in my mind.
Rosie.
She made her way to me, wide-eyed and uncertain, her steps hesitant, reluctant. Her feet are so small. I bet they’re not much bigger than my hand.
I force my fingers to stay poised over my keyboard, and I stop myself from glancing down to compare.
The frayed cuffs of her jeans covered most of her worn sneakers. The rubber was peeling away from the canvas. She’d doodled on the toes. Rainbows arching between clouds.
She looks so young, but she’s eighteen. That’s the first thing I had Seth find out after the incident in the library. She’s in her twelfth year at the Academy. Her final year. Her kind don’t continue on to professional training.
The instructor wraps up the Q and A, looking to me for the signal that I’m good. I incline my head, and he dismisses the class.
My entourage surrounds me as we make for the parking lot to drive the half mile to the Tower. I inhale deeply on the way, chasing Rosie’s scent. She smells like the spice aisle at the grocery store, sweet and tangy. Even with my senses on overdrive, I can’t track her. It’s been too long, and the wind’s too strong.
It’s fine. Moon Lake territory is safe. We have no crime except theft and trespassing, and her people are the culprits.
She’s a terrible thief. Brynn didn’t need to track the phone. Rosie’s fear was wafting from her like smoke from a fire.
My muscles tense, adrenaline rising. I breathe through it. That was then, not now. She’s fine.
There’s a gentle humming inside my rib cage, and I know it’s her. It’s the thing connecting us. You’d think a bond lodged in your chest would be annoying, but it’s not. It’s like background music, a little emo, aching and raw, but not in crisis.
She’s fine.
She doesn’t need me.
I need to stay away.
Father and I talked it through after the library, when I began to suspect. Neither of us really believed it would happen. Mismatched pairs are rare, and there’s never been one as mismatched as a scavenger and a future alpha.
I get in my car, adjust the seat and the rearview, and refocus. I need to drive away from the Bogs and head for the Tower.
I have a meeting with my staff about quarterly projections, and I need to make a decision about our next acquisition. The performative part of my day is over. My entourage will scatter to their internships, and I’ll go to the C-suite to be surrounded with middle-aged shifters, half of whom kiss ass like it’s a core competency while the others silently resent the hell out of taking orders from a pup—when they’re not on the golf course bragging that they work for the alpha heir’s division.
I shake my head to clear it and start the engine. The fob slips from my sweaty hand and drops to my lap. I wipe my palms on my wool suit pants. This is just the beginning of rut. I’m not losing it. It’s natural. Normal. I won’t let it get too far.
I shift into first and drive.
Behind the wall between us, my wolf paces, agitated.
It’s not natural or normal to turn away from your mate. To let her leave.
My stomach clenches, and my temples throb.
Rosie is gutsy, but she’s soft—like the underbelly of a turtle or the inside of a clam. Her face reads like a book—or a roadside sign.
She’s vulnerable and far away, and I’m driving in the opposite direction to do what? Why?
I slam on the brakes and skid to a stop on the shoulder, gasping for air. Seth pulls over behind me. He flashes his headlights.
What am I doing?
I can’t lose it. I need to get to work. I’m going to chair a meeting, click send on some emails, and go home.
I flick the blinker and ease back into traffic. I drive twelve miles above the speed limit so that I don’t trip the camera Mother and her supporters on the Council bought to deter “status-seeking young males” from drag racing.
I do what I have to do.
By the time I reach the Tower, my pits are drenched. I shrug on my jacket and chug some water.
Rosie’s not actually that far away. I can sense through the bond—she’s maybe three miles as the crow flies.
I can run three miles in six minutes as a man. My wolf can do it in three.
He wants me to summon him. I can’t hear him, but I can feel him seethe. Behind his wall, he gnaws at his bit.
I stride purposefully through the screeners, tossing my keys in a basket, acknowledging the guards’ bent necks. A new, older entourage gathers in my wake, barking updates, darting forward to call the elevator, shoving a clipboard at me for my signature.
I bet Rosie’s never been in the Tower. We let scavengers work as cleaners in the High Rise, but we can’t afford for things to go missing from the offices.
Where is she now?
Who is she with?
The male with the gold teeth shared a similar scent. He’s a brother or cousin. Not a threat.
But she could have joined up with anyone.
I listen to the bond, but it hums and lilts, all melody, no lyrics.