Rejected From False Mate Bond

The machines beeped erratically as my mother's eyelids fluttered open. I wasn't there to see it—I was in Reese's office, begging him to allow outside medical intervention. But I heard about it later from Healer Diane, who said my mother had awakened in unimaginable agony.

"The mystical poisoning is everywhere," Diane had explained to her, her voice breaking. "It's not just your body—it's your spirit. I've never seen anything like it."

My mother had writhed in pain, her body convulsing as the black veins spread across her skin. "How long?" she'd asked, her voice barely audible.

Diane hesitated before answering honestly. "Hours, maybe less. And it will only get worse."

That's when my mother had called for a pack member—not me, not my father. Someone else entirely. Someone who could witness her final words.

"I cannot bear to burden my worthless omega daughter any longer," she'd whispered, each word a dagger I would never hear directly. "Tell her I'm sorry I failed her."

By the time I returned from Reese's office, where I'd been met with nothing but cold dismissal and Alpha commands, it was too late. My mother had dragged herself from the hospital bed, her body broken but determined. Somehow, she'd made it to the roof of the pack house.

I found her in the courtyard below.

Her body lay twisted and broken on the concrete, blood pooling beneath her like a crimson halo. A small crowd had gathered, their faces blurred through my tears as I pushed through them.

"Mom!" The word tore from my throat as I fell to my knees beside her. Her body was still warm, but the light had already faded from her eyes.

Something white fluttered in the breeze nearby—a piece of paper caught beneath a stone. With trembling hands, I retrieved it.

"I cannot live with what I've become," her familiar handwriting began. "The pain is too great, but more than that, I cannot bear the shame of raising a daughter too weak to protect her own family. Forgive me, Camila. Perhaps in death, I can find peace from this curse."

The paper crumpled in my fist as a primal scream built in my chest. "No! No! NO!"

Reese appeared at the edge of the crowd, his face impassive as he surveyed the scene. "Clean this up," he ordered the pack members. "And take Camila to my office."

I was still clutching the note when I confronted him. "She killed herself because of what Zara did!" I screamed, throwing the crumpled paper at his feet. "This is murder! You let this happen!"

Reese's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You dare accuse me? After everything I've done for you?"

"You've done nothing!" My voice broke as I sobbed. "You stood by while she tortured my mother! You used your Alpha power to protect her instead of us!"

Something dark flashed across his face. "Enough."

The word hit me like a physical blow as he unleashed his full Alpha authority. My body seized control from my mind as he commanded, "Come with me."

I followed him through the pack house, down flights of stairs I'd never descended before. The air grew colder, damper with each step until we reached a heavy metal door.

"Inside," he ordered, pushing me forward.

I stumbled into darkness that smelled of antiseptic and death. The pack morgue. My mother's body would be brought here soon.

"You will contemplate your disrespectful behavior toward your betters," Reese said coldly from the doorway. "Perhaps a night here will remind you of your place."

The door slammed shut with the finality of a tomb closing. I heard the lock click into place as darkness enveloped me completely.

Hours passed in that cold, dark space. I huddled in a corner, trying not to look at the empty tables where bodies would soon lie. The silence was broken only by the occasional drip of water somewhere in the distance.

Then footsteps echoed outside the door.

It creaked open slowly, revealing Zara's silhouette against the hallway light. In her hand gleamed a silver blade that glowed orange at its tip—heated in flame.

"Hello, Camila," she said softly, stepping inside. "I thought you might need some... comfort."

She closed the door behind her, plunging us back into near-darkness. Only the faint glow of her blade illuminated her face—beautiful and terrible in its cruelty.

"On your knees," she commanded.

I tried to run, but the morgue offered nowhere to hide. Zara caught me easily, her strength surprising as she forced me down.

"Hold still," she whispered, pressing the heated blade against my back. "This won't take long."

The first touch of metal to flesh sent agony shooting through me as she began carving. Each letter burned worse than the last as she etched "WORTHLESS OMEGA" across my skin.

"Why?" I gasped through tears and smoke from my burning flesh. "Why are you doing this?"

Zara laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Some she-wolves are born to suffer so others can rise."

The door opened again, and Reese stood watching, his expression unreadable as I screamed in agony.

"Reese, please!" I begged through the pain. "Make her stop!"

He stepped forward slowly, his eyes meeting mine with something I couldn't decipher. Then his hand flew up and struck me across the face with Alpha-enhanced strength.

The blow sent me crashing into the morgue wall as darkness claimed me once more.