Fated but Forsaken

I woke up screaming, my body drenched in sweat. The silver-haired woman from my dream was still laughing, her violet eyes burning into my mind.

"Give me your pain," she had whispered, her cold fingers reaching for my heart. "Feed me your broken bond."

I clutched my chest, the rejection pain throbbing worse than before. The digital clock read 3:17 AM. Too early to start work, too late to fall back asleep.

*Something's wrong with me.*

As I stumbled to the bathroom to splash water on my face, a strange sensation rippled through my body. Like an itch beneath my skin that I couldn't scratch.

*Wake up,* a voice whispered inside my mind.

I froze, staring at my reflection. For a split second, my green eyes flashed gold.

"No," I whispered, backing away from the mirror. "You're gone. You left me ten years ago."

My wolf had abandoned me the day Elena died. The day my father blamed me for her death. The day I went rogue.

Another ripple, stronger this time. I doubled over, gasping.

*Danger,* the voice whispered. *She's coming.*

A soft knock at my door made me jump. I opened it to find Beta Caleb, concern etched on his face.

"I heard you scream," he said quietly. "The rejection is getting worse, isn't it?"

I nodded, unable to tell him about my wolf. About Elena's note. About any of it.

"Come with me," he said, checking the hallway to make sure no one was watching. "There's something you need to know."

I followed him through the silent packhouse, down stairs I'd never seen before, into a small library filled with ancient books.

"What is this place?" I asked, running my fingers along leather-bound spines.

"The Beta's private collection," Caleb said, pulling a thick volume from a shelf. "Every pack secret is recorded here, including the truth about mate rejections."

He opened the book to a marked page. An illustration showed two wolves, one standing tall, the other crumpled in pain.

"When an Alpha rejects their true mate," Caleb explained, "the consequences go beyond physical pain. The rejection becomes a beacon."

"A beacon for what?"

"For those who feed on broken bonds." His eyes met mine. "There's a reason Rowan's behavior doesn't match his words. Something isn't right."

My hand trembled as I touched the illustration. "The silver-haired woman," I whispered.

Caleb's head snapped up. "What did you say?"

"I've been dreaming of a woman with silver hair and violet eyes. She wants my pain."

The color drained from his face. "A witch," he whispered. "Mara."

"Who's Mara?"

Before he could answer, footsteps echoed from the hallway. Caleb quickly returned the book to its shelf.2

"We can't talk here," he whispered. "Be careful today. Watch for anyone new, anyone showing too much interest in you."

"What about Elena?" I asked quickly. "Is it possible she's alive?"

Shock registered on his face. "Elena? Your sister?"

"I saw her last night. She left me a note to meet her tonight."

Caleb gripped my shoulders. "Don't go alone. Promise me."

"But she said—"

"Promise me, Aria."

I nodded reluctantly, just as the door swung open. Trish stood there, glaring at us.

"There you are," she snapped. "Your duties start now. The Alpha wants his breakfast in his quarters."

My first day serving Rowan directly. The thought sent both dread and anticipation through me.

"Go," Caleb murmured. "We'll talk later."

Thirty minutes later, I stood outside Rowan's door, balancing a tray of food. I knocked softly.

"Enter," his deep voice commanded.

I pushed the door open with my shoulder and stepped inside. Rowan sat at his desk, papers spread before him. He wore a simple black t-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders. Our eyes met, and the bond between us flared like a live wire.

His nostrils flared, and I knew he felt it too.

"Set it there," he said gruffly, pointing to a small table.

As I placed the tray down, my hand brushed his. A jolt of electricity shot through me, and images flashed in my mind—Rowan holding me, Rowan protecting me, Rowan as my mate.

He jerked back as if burned. "What was that?" he demanded.

"The bond," I whispered. "It's fighting the rejection."

His eyes darkened. "There is no bond anymore."

"Then why can't you stop looking at me?" I challenged, emboldened by what Caleb had told me.

Rowan stood so quickly his chair toppled over. In two strides, he was in front of me, his face inches from mine.

"You think I want this?" he growled. "You think I enjoy feeling torn in half? Lyra is who I chose. Lyra is what's best for the pack."

"But not what's best for you," I said softly.

Something broke in his expression. For a moment, I saw the real Rowan—conflicted, confused, almost fearful.

"You don't understand," he whispered, his fingers grazing my cheek. "I can't—"

The door burst open. Lyra stood there, her face contorting with rage at the sight of us standing so close.

"What is this?" she hissed.

Rowan stepped away from me immediately. "Breakfast," he said coolly.

Lyra's eyes narrowed. "Out," she ordered me. "Now."

As I hurried past her, she grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. "You'll regret this," she whispered for only me to hear.

I spent the rest of the morning cleaning the packhouse, my mind racing with everything that had happened. Caleb's warnings, Rowan's conflict, Elena's note, my stirring wolf.

While dusting the main hall, I noticed an unfamiliar woman speaking with the pack guards. Her gray cloak concealed most of her features, but when she turned, I caught a glimpse of silver hair beneath her hood.

My blood ran cold. The woman from my dreams.

She spotted me watching and smiled. Not a friendly smile—a predator's smile. She raised her hand slightly, and a wave of dizziness washed over me. I stumbled, catching myself on a nearby table.

When I looked up, she was gone.

But the rippling under my skin had intensified. My wolf was pushing against the barriers I'd built around her ten years ago.

Let me out, she growled. She'll kill us both if you don't.

I pressed my hand against my chest, feeling something I hadn't felt in years—my wolf's heartbeat alongside my own.

"Not yet," I whispered. "Not until I find Elena."

As the clock struck noon, a piercing pain shot through my head. I collapsed to my knees, vision blurring. A voice—not my wolf's, not my own—spoke directly into my mind.

*Your sister waits under the willow tree, little rogue. But so do I. Come tonight and learn the truth. About Elena. About Rowan. About what you really are.*

When my vision cleared, I found myself on the floor with pack members staring down at me. And there, at the edge of the crowd, stood Elena—older, changed, but unmistakably my sister.

She put a finger to her lips, then vanished into the crowd.

My wolf howled inside me, louder than ever before.

She's not what she seems, my wolf warned. Nothing is.