The Price of Rejection

(Kaelen’s POV)

The heavy metal doors of the hallway swung open, and the chatter died on the spot. Neva walked through, and every wolf froze in their tracks. She wore a short skirt, knee-high boots, and a black blouse so tight the outline of her lace bra pressed through the thin fabric. Her dark hair fell in loose waves down her back.

Lockers hung half-open as students forgot whatever they were doing. Unmated males stared with open hunger in their eyes, their chests rising and falling as their instincts flared to the surface. A low whistle cut through the hall, followed by a wolfish howl from the back of the crowd.

The girls reacted just as fast, their faces twisting with bitter envy.

A girl near the trophy case sneered loud enough for the hall to hear. "Desperate much?"

"She looks like a pick-me," another scoffed from behind her locker.

None of it touched Neva. She didn't flinch. She kept her chin high, shoulders square, her stride steady and deliberate. An ancient, heavy presence rolled off her in waves, pressing against my skin. It was an aura I had never felt from her before—commanding, regal, and dangerous. She walked like she owned the ground beneath her boots.

My chest tightened until breathing turned to agony. Ever since I stood on that dais last night and named Sloane my mate, a hollow ache had been gnawing through my ribs. Inside my head, Torin was losing his mind. My hybrid beast clawed at my skull, snarling, cursing me for hurting the female who belonged to us.

I had waited by the lockers all morning just to catch her eye. I didn't know how to fix what I broke. I just needed to hear her voice and see some trace of the girl who used to smile at me.

As she drew near, the urge to reach out pushed me to the brink.

"Neva." I called her name.

She walked straight past me like I did not exist.

Cold dread punched into my gut. I spun around, fists clenched, tracking where she went. She stopped right in front of Silas.

Silas leaned against his locker, hands in his pockets. He had avoided my calls since the gala, furious that I had pushed Neva toward him last night. Only Sloane, Ryker, and their circle had stood beside me this morning.

When Neva stopped before him, Silas pushed off the metal door. A slow grin spread across his face. He caught my eye over her shoulder and gave me a deliberate, mocking wink. Then he turned his charming, crooked smile on her.

Neva smiled back. It was a real, bright smile.

A vicious growl rose in my throat. I clamped my jaw shut before it broke out into the hall. My vision edged in red. Torin lunged against the cage of my ribs. *Tear his throat out. Spill his blood. Take our mate back.*

I swayed on my feet, fighting the shift. Silas was my royal cousin. He hid his bloodline because he hated palace politics and royal privilege, but he carried the same deadly hybrid blood. If Torin broke free here, neither of us would back down until the hall was soaked in blood. My father always warned that Torin was the deadliest beast our royal line had ever produced, strong enough to break a kingdom.

Silas reached out and took Neva’s hand, lacing his fingers through hers.

The sight burned behind my eyes. If I stayed another second, a massacre would erupt. I turned on my heel and walked away. Sloane called my name, but I shut her out and kept moving.

I shoved through the doors of my private training room and ripped off my shirt, tossing it onto the floor. Sweat was already slick on my skin as I drove my fist into the leather bag.

The bag groaned on its chains.

I struck it again. And again.

Fist after fist slammed into the leather, knuckles splitting, but the physical sting did nothing to cool the fire under my ribs. Torin surged forward with a burst of raw hybrid power. My next hook tore through the steel mount. The heavy bag flew across the room, crashing through the window and showering glass onto the floor outside.

I stood in the wreckage, chest heaving. My muscles burned, but none of it was enough.

I hated this weakness. I hated what she did to me.

For years, I had forced myself to bury every desire. I had repeated the lie until my throat burned with ash: *She is just your sister. You grew up together. Do not touch her.*

Yet none of those lies held up the night I finally had her.

My mind dragged me back to the dark cabin, to the heat radiating off her skin. She had been soft beneath me, her curves fitting against my body as if made for my touch alone. I remembered the hitch in her breath when my cock pushed against her wet folds, and the small whimper she made when I sank inside her for the first time.

She was tight, gripping around me so hard it nearly broke my control.

I had taken her with raw desperation, without gentleness or patience. Guilt had chewed through my skull the whole time, and that shame made me rough. I drove my cock deep into her, pumping between her thighs with hard thrusts, chasing her breathless gasps as if I could fuck the guilt out of my veins. Her nails dug into my shoulders, clinging to me as if she feared I would vanish.

Even with my cock buried deep inside her, drowning in the hot pulse of her pussy, the torment remained. It drove me to take her like a starving beast, trying to wipe away years of denial and silence the ache in my chest.

And now, she smiled at another male.

I hung another bag on the spare chain and slammed my fists into it over and over until sweat streamed off my chin like rain.

My watch beeped. Two periods had passed. Lunch had started.

I washed the sweat and blood off my skin, pulled on a fresh shirt, and marched toward the cafeteria.

The roar of voices hit me as I pushed into the cafeteria, but my gaze cut straight to one table near the center.

Silas was leaning in, murmuring something that made Neva laugh. Her hand rested on his forearm, her body angled close to his, easy and familiar.

Then Silas lifted his hand. With slow fingers, he brushed a stray strand of hair away from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.

Something snapped in my head.

The room blurred. Crossing the space in two long strides, I fisted both hands into Silas's collar. I hauled him off the bench and slammed him onto the floor.

A loud gasp rippled through the room. Chairs scraped back against the tiles. Trays clattered as people jumped out of the way.

Silas hit the tile with a dull thud, surging to his feet in an instant with teeth bared in a snarl. His irises bled into pitch black as he fought to hold back his hybrid beast, knowing a clash between us would tear the room apart.

Neva stepped between us before our fists met.

She faced me, chest rising and falling, eyes blazing with fury.

I parted my lips to speak.

Whack!

Her palm whipped across my face before a single word could leave my mouth.

The crack echoed through the cafeteria like a whip.

My head jerked to the side. The sting flared hot and raw against my skin, sending a shockwave through my jaw.

The room went dead silent.