A Mate's Cruel Rejection

Lyra's POV

"But I am your mate," I whispered, my voice trembling as hot tears rolled down my bruised cheeks.

I watched in sheer horror as his striking expression shifted. The heavy, suffocating lust that had darkened his features just moments ago vanished without a trace, replaced instantly by a chilling, merciless void. He looked at me not like a fated partner, but like a piece of rotting meat left out in the sun. The word he had spoken a second prior echoed in my head, a cruel taunt tearing through my skull. *Wife*. He had a wife.

The devastating realization hit me like a physical blow to the stomach. The breath vanished from my lungs. My mate was already mated to someone else.

The agonizing pain tearing through my chest was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It wasn't just a heartbreak; it was a visceral, biological severing. My inner wolf paced frantically inside my mind, scratching at the walls of my consciousness, whining in pure, unadulterated agony. The mate bond was supposed to be our salvation, a sacred tether weaving two souls together. Instead, it was a jagged, rusted blade carving me hollow from the inside out.

Fearing for my very life, my heart raced frantically against my ribs. The massive, terrifying man slowly knelt before me in the dirt. His sheer size blocked out the moonlight, casting me entirely in his dark, looming shadow. I stared up at him in panic, my breath hitching as I watched the deep brown of his eyes begin fading into a deadly, glowing shade of red. It was the undeniable mark of his inner beast taking over, a primal predator waking up to deal with a pest.

"I have heard that sentence quite a lot," he began, his deep voice dropping to a husky, lethal whisper. "So if I ever hear those words again from your dirty lips, I promise to rip you into shreds. Am I clear?"

His voice was heavily laced with a binding, suffocating dominance. It crashed over me like a tidal wave, commanding my muscles to lock, ordering my Omega nature to bow. I moved back slightly on the cold dirt, my naked skin scraping against rough stones. I instinctively bit down on my lower lip, tasting the metallic tang of my own blood. It was an act of raw defiance fueled by sheer terror. There was no way I would agree to such a cruel command. I could not blindly deny the truth of our bond, no matter how much my desperate inner wolf wanted to bare her neck and submit to his crushing Alpha power. Why was I forbidden to speak the truth? Why was my destiny a crime?

He noticed my hesitation. His jaw clenched tight.

"I said, am I clear?" he growled.

This time, he unleashed his pheromones into the night air. The scent of dark pine, iron, and blood exploded around me, heavy and oppressive. He forced his suffocating aura straight down upon me, a physical weight pressing onto my shoulders, demanding a lower rank to give in. My wolf whimpered louder, terrified of the monster we were supposed to call ours. I bit my busted lip even harder, trying to hold onto my sanity.

A loud, piercing scream escaped my throat as he suddenly reached out. His massive hand grabbed a fistful of my dark hair, twisting the strands tight. With a brutal upward jerk, he hauled me roughly to my feet. He ignored my naked vulnerability, ignored the way my bare breasts heaved in the freezing air, ignored the ugly purple bruises covering my dark skin.

"I guess I was too kind to you a while ago," he spat viciously, his glowing red eyes devoid of a single ounce of pity.

He turned on his heel and began walking toward the burning remains of the pack house, dragging me forcefully forward through the dirt.

"I'm sorry!" I cried out, my voice cracking as his iron grip tightened further. My scalp ached horribly, feeling as though the skin was going to rip straight off my skull with every long stride he took. I stumbled over roots and jagged rocks, fighting desperately to keep my footing.

My body was already battered, bruised, and sore from the men who had brutally tried to take me by force just moments earlier. Every jolt sent fresh waves of fiery pain shooting up my spine. My bare feet bled against the gravel, and my panicked cries quickly devolved into helpless, pathetic sobs.

As we approached the edge of the clearing, a wave of bitter irony washed over my mind, drowning out the physical pain. This was my life. This had always been my life.

I was born into misery. Because my father was unknown and my mother had bled to death on a makeshift bed giving birth to me, I was branded an Omega from my very first breath. I was the unloved, despised, and abused trash of the pack. I was a bastard child, a stain on their pristine bloodlines. My entire existence had been a waking nightmare. While the higher-ranking wolves feasted on fresh meat, I was deliberately starved by the cruel women in the kitchen, forced to survive on moldy scraps and dirty water. My days were spent on my bruised knees, scrubbing dirt from the stone floors and washing blood-soaked clothes for the very warriors who saw me as nothing more than a living toy to break.

My only escape from the relentless, cruel bullying and the gnawing hunger had been my fragile, pathetic dream of one day finding my true mate. I used to stare at the moon from the tiny window of my damp cellar, praying to the Moon Goddess for a strong, loving male who would swoop in, claim me, and protect me from the monsters I lived with.

When our pack was abruptly ambushed tonight, the scent of smoke and fresh blood filling the air, I had felt zero remorse. As the flames licked the sides of the pack house and the screams of my tormentors echoed in the dark, a twisted sense of joy had bloomed in my chest. I wanted my abusers to burn to the ground. I wanted the men who had cornered me in the laundry rooms and the women who had kicked me in the ribs to suffer.

Even when that enemy Delta and his men had pinned me down in the dirt, ripping my thin clothes apart to have their way with me, my only thought had been surviving long enough to find my mate. When this massive, terrifying Alpha had shown up, snapping necks and looking into my ocean-blue eyes with a glint of what I thought was concern, a beautiful illusion of salvation had sparked inside me. My wolf had howled in victory. He was an Alpha—strong, dominant, a leader born to rule. Pride had swelled in my shattered heart. I thought the Goddess had finally answered my prayers.

But it was all a lie. A sick, twisted joke played by fate.

That beautiful dream was now my worst nightmare. My own fated mate was treating me with the very same cruelty, dragging me by my hair like a slaughtered animal, proving that my existence meant nothing.

"No, you aren't," he whispered back, his cold voice slicing through my sobbing thoughts.

We reached the front of the pack house. Several of his heavily armed warriors stood near the burning porch. They were laughing hard, a deep, cruel sound that turned my stomach. I looked past my mate's broad shoulders and saw a naked, bleeding woman crawling on her belly through the mud, desperately trying to get away from them.

The men quickly snapped to attention when they saw him. They gave him a respectful, deep bow, ignoring my naked, bruised, and weeping form entirely, before turning right back to mocking the crawling woman.

I stumbled hard on the bottom step of the porch, hissing in pain as my aching toe smashed into the wood. He didn't slow down. He dragged me inside the ruined pack house, pulling me up the grand wooden staircase. My knees slammed against the hard edges of the steps. The stench of smoke, spilled liquor, and raw sexual sweat filled my nose, making my empty stomach churn.

He marched straight down the second-floor hallway and approached the heavy oak door of my former Alpha's office. Without breaking stride, he kicked the door open with a brutal force that shattered the lock, the wood splintering loudly into the room.

He threw me inside.

I flew through the air, crying out as I crashed hard onto the cold hardwood floor. My hip bone and ass took the brunt of the impact, a sharp, stinging pain radiating up my spine. I stayed on the floor for a moment, gasping for air, clutching my bare chest as I looked up to meet his dark, unfeeling eyes.

"Turns out this slut wants to have fun as well," he announced loudly to the room, his voice booming with authority. A terrifying, wicked smirk painted his handsome face, making the blood freeze in my veins.

I slowly turned around from the hard floor, my breath catching in my throat. I had to forcefully bite my tongue and swallow a scream of pure horror.

The sight in the center of the office was straight out of hell. Three huge warriors stood towering in the middle of the room. They were completely naked, their massive, sweat-slicked bodies coated in dirt and the blood of my fallen pack members. Their aroused, thick cocks jutted out aggressively, hard and heavy with predatory intent.

Surrounded by these hulking men was a badly bruised, heavily weeping woman. She was forced onto her knees on the expensive rug. One of the naked warriors stood directly behind her, his thick fingers twisted ruthlessly into her long hair, jerking her head back. He was forcing her mouth wide open, preparing to shove himself inside. Her face was soaked in tears, her lips busted, and her once-flawless body was covered in dark, ugly bruises. She was trembling uncontrollably, a pathetic, broken shell of a person.

When she shifted her eyes and met my terrified gaze, a fresh wave of shock hit me.

It was Morwen.

She was the daughter of our former Alpha, the untouchable princess of the pack. Morwen was the pride and joy of our territory, the gorgeous, tall female with the perfect hourglass figure and large breasts that all the men worshipped. Her long, silky hair and arrogant smirk used to define her beauty. She was the talk of everyone.

And she was my absolute greatest tormenter.

Morwen’s sole purpose in life had seemed to be making sure I died by her hand, or at least suffered every waking second. She was the one who instructed the kitchen staff to throw my food in the dirt. She was the one who made sure to stand in the doorway, laughing her cold, mocking laugh, while the pack men cornered me, harassed me, and hit me whenever I rejected their demands to fuck me. There were times when the beatings got so bad, when their hands were tearing at my clothes and pinning my legs apart, that I had to use my brain to survive. I had been forced to offer my mouth to them, gagging and sobbing as they took their release, just so they wouldn't have their way with my body. Morwen had watched it all, sipping her wine, treating my degradation like a theatrical performance.

Now, the tables had turned in the most horrific way imaginable. The arrogant Alpha’s daughter was stripped bare, beaten, and forced to her knees, about to endure the very nightmare she used to orchestrate for me.

Seeing her broken like this didn't bring me peace. It brought sheer, paralyzing terror. Because if they could do this to the Alpha's daughter, what in the Goddess's name were they going to do to a despised Omega?

My beautiful, lifelong dream completely shattered into a million irreparable pieces on that hardwood floor. My mate didn't want me at all. He didn't see a fated partner. He saw me as nothing but trash, a disposable toy to toss to his bloodthirsty soldiers.

The warrior standing in front of Morwen paused. He turned his head, his dark, hungry eyes locking onto my naked, bruised body shivering on the floor. He let out a low, rough growl, his gaze raking over my full breasts and down to the junction of my thighs.

"Should we take turns on her or do we all fuck her together?" the naked warrior asked loudly, licking his lips hungrily as his thick erection twitched with renewed anticipation.

I whipped my head around to look up at my mate, my fated Alpha, tears streaming down my face. I stared up at him with widened, desperate blue eyes, silently begging him to stop this. Begging him to claim me, to protect me, to be the man the moon had destined him to be.

He looked down at me. His face was a mask of stone.

"Take her together," my mate answered simply.

His voice was entirely devoid of any emotion, any hesitation, any care. The venomous words left his lips so casually, carelessly sealing my horrific fate without a second thought.

"She needs to learn never to talk back to me," he added coldly, crossing his massive arms over his chest as he stood by the door, ready to watch his men tear me apart.

I hated him.

The realization hit me harder than the physical pain of his grip or the burning ache in my muscles. With every single fiber of my shattered being, every drop of blood rushing through my veins, I hated him. I hated the heartless, cruel bastard who was supposed to be my so-called mate. I hated the Moon Goddess for tying my soul to a monster. And I knew, as the heavy footsteps of the naked warriors began moving toward me, that this nightmare was only just beginning.