Rejected by Fate

The morning air was sharp with cold, and the faint glow of dawn spilled through the thin curtains of Christie's attic window. Her breath misted in the dim light as she pulled herself out of bed, wincing at the chill that bit into her bare feet when they touched the wooden floor.

The room was barely large enough to hold her narrow cot, let alone the old dresser that leaned against one wall. Its drawers stuck, the wood swollen from years of damp air, but Christie didn't need much from it. She owned two dresses, both worn so thin they barely held together. She grabbed one and slipped it over her head, shivering as the fabric clung to her skin.

The sound of footsteps pounding up the stairs sent a jolt of dread through her.

"Christie! Are you deaf?" Miriam's voice cracked through the stillness. "The house isn't going to clean itself!"

"I'm coming," Christie called back, her voice hoarse from disuse.

She hurried to tie her hair into a simple braid, not bothering to look in the mirror. There was no point. Her reflection always showed the same pale, tired face with dark circles beneath her eyes and a permanent crease of worry etched into her brow.

As she made her way downstairs, the familiar weight of her reality settled over her like a heavy cloak. This was her life: an endless loop of servitude, humiliation, and isolation.

The Unwanted Daughter

With her arms folded and her scowl fixed firmly, Miriam was waiting in the kitchen. She glanced up and down at Christie, her thin lips twisting in frustration.

"It's about time," Miriam yelled. In preparation for tonight's mating ceremony, Abigail needs her dress pressed. Make sure it's flawless, or assist me.

Christie hurriedly answered, "I'll take care of it," avoiding Miriam's sharp eyes.

"Remember the floors as well," Miriam said. As usual, they are filthy. To be honest, I have no idea why I keep you around.

Christie kept her head down, thinking, Because you need someone to clean up after you.

Christie was left to her task in the kitchen as Miriam pivoted on her heel and departed. Her hands trembled a little as she picked up the ironing board and heated the iron over the stove. At least not completely, it wasn't terror. It was fatigue.

A moment later, Abigail swept into the room, her lips painted a brilliant, cheery red, her golden hair gleaming like sunlight. She had the confidence, beauty, and untouchability that Christie lacked.

"Don't scorch it this time," Abigail said with a pointed glare as she handed over the emerald-green dress. "This fabric is worth more than your entire existence."

Christie didn't respond. She focused on the iron, carefully pressing the delicate fabric as Abigail perched on a nearby chair, scrolling through her phone.

"Tonight's going to be incredible," Abigail said, more to herself than to Christie. "The Alpha's son is coming, and everyone says he's looking for his mate. Can you imagine? Me, the Luna of the Crimson Moon Pack."

She let out a dreamy sigh before shooting a mocking glance at Christie. "Of course, you'll be lucky if anyone even looks at you. Who would want an omega for a mate?"

The words stung, though they shouldn't have. Christie had heard them so many times they should have lost their power, but they hadn't. They burrowed deep, finding the small, fragile part of her that still hoped for something better.

The Mating Ceremony

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, Christie's hands were raw and her legs ached from scrubbing floors and running errands. But as much as she dreaded the ceremony, she couldn't avoid it. Every unmated wolf was required to attend, regardless of rank.

Her dress was simple and plain, a stark contrast to the vibrant gowns worn by the other women in the pack. She didn't bother with makeup or jewelry, there was no point in trying to compete with the likes of Abigail.

The ceremony was held in the heart of the pack's territory, where strings of golden lights were draped between the towering oaks. The air buzzed with excitement as wolves gathered, their laughter and chatter filling the clearing.

Christie kept her arms firmly encircling herself at the periphery of the mob. She felt like a shadow among the bright stars, an intruder.

Alpha Gregory's strong voice cut down the commotion as he climbed onto the elevated platform to speak to the crowd.

"We honor the sacred bond of mates tonight," he declared. Finding our real spouses, or our other halves, is a blessing bestowed upon us by the Moon Goddess. May we be led to them by her light.

The audience started mingling as the speech came to a conclusion. Wolves that were not yet mated walked across the clearing, their gazes searching for the pull that would identify their mate.

Christie remained motionless as her heart raced.. She had dreamed of this moment for as long as she could remember, but now that it was here, she was terrified. What if no one chose her? What if her mate didn't exist?

And then she saw him.

A Cruel Rejection

Damien was impossible to miss. The Lycan prince of the Dunson Pack stood at the center of the clearing, his presence commanding and magnetic. His dark hair was swept back, and his sharp blue eyes seemed to perceive everything and nothing all at once.

Christie's wolf stirred, a quiet whisper in the back of her mind.

Mate.

She shuddered Her gaze locked with Damien's, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away.

But the moment shattered as quickly as it began. Damien's lips curled into a sneer, his expression hardening with disgust.

"You?" he said, his voice low and cold.

Christie's breath caught in her throat. "I... I think we're mates," she said, her voice trembling.

Damien laughed, the sound sharp and cruel. "An omega? Don't insult me."

The crowd fell silent, all eyes on them. Christie felt the weight of their stares, the whispers already starting to spread.

"I, Damien of the Dunson Pack, reject you, Christie, as my mate," he said, his words cutting through her like a blade.

Tears blurred her vision as she turned and fled, the sound of laughter and whispers following her into the night.

Running From the Pain

The forest closed in around her as she ran, her chest heaving with sobs. The cold air stung her cheeks, but she didn't stop. She couldn't.

"How could this happen?" she whispered to herself, her voice breaking. "Why me?"

She tripped over a root and fell to her knees, the damp earth soaking through her dress. She stayed there for a minute, her hands clutching the ground as though it might ground her in a world gone crazy.

She was cursed by the Moon Goddess. That was the only reason.

Christie struggled to her feet and staggered toward the forest's edge as the darkness became darker. She knew she couldn't stay here, but she didn't know where she was going. Not in a pack where she was considered a burden.

"Tonight, we celebrate the sacred bond of mates," he said. "The Moon Goddess has blessed us with the gift of finding our true partners, our other halves. May her light guide us to them."

As the speech ended, the crowd began to mingle. Unmated wolves moved through the clearing, their eyes scanning for that spark of recognition, that pull that would mark their mate.

Christie's heart pounded as she stayed rooted to her spot. She had dreamed of this moment for as long as she could remember, but now that it was here, she was terrified. What if no one chose her? What if her mate didn't exist?

And then she saw him.

Running From the Pain

The forest closed in around her as she ran, her chest heaving with sobs. The cold air stung her cheeks, but she didn't stop. She couldn't.

"How could this happen?" she whispered to herself, her voice breaking. "Why me?"

She tripped over a root and fell to her knees, the damp earth soaking through her dress. She stayed there for a minute, her hands clutching the ground as though it might ground her in a world gone crazy.

The Moon Goddess had cursed her. That was the only explanation.

As the night deepened, Christie forced herself to her feet and stumbled toward the edge of the forest. She didn't know where she was going,only that she couldn't stay here. Not in a pack that saw her as nothing more than a burden.

And certainly not in a world where her own mate had rejected her.