Saving the Rejected Luna

Artemis

As usual, my day began with me getting up at the crack of dawn when the sun hadn't even risen, and the sky was still painted with a deep violet hue.

The air was still cold. The pack was still asleep in their luxurious beds, while I was forced to sleep in a crappy, unserviced, cramped as hell attic; unfair.

My name's Artemis Terry- daughter of Lucias and Adeline Terry, the Alpha and Luna of Emerald Guardians Pack. My father and the rest of our pack were exiled when I was still in my mother's womb. We were banished from the ancient land of Romania, where werewolves could live and grow their packs in peace, harmony, and love—a land where all werewolves could build their home.

My father rejected his true mate Eurille, and my mother left her true mate, my uncle, Xavier, for my father. They mated. My uncle and Eurille both died. Lucille died of depression, and my uncle committed suicide as punishment for this heinous crime, my father and the rest of our pack were forced to live on Romania's edge, never to set foot on its borders again.

Although they loved me for the first five years, my parents never really considered me their daughter. More likely, the reason they were exiled. When I was old enough, they made me the pack's enslaved person—cooking, cleaning, maintaining the packhouse, and stuff like that.

I lived in the attic. That way, no visitors could see me and my parents won't be further humiliated. I always wore simple clothes, whereas the girls always had the nicest clothes; designer clothes were imported from expensive stores. My clothes were imported from the she-wolves who outgrew their old clothes. I inherited the hand-me-downs.

Despite being exiled and living in shame, my pack was vibrant. We afford to live a very lavish lifestyle due to my father allying with another powerful pack, The Shining Cosmos Pack. Their leader was Marcus Spencer. A heartless monster who was cruelly handsome—a literal demon in an angel's body.

He formed alliances with packs to take advantage of the she-wolves living there, and since he was one of the most powerful alphas in Romania, rivals and objections from other packs weren't an issue. He allied with my father's pack, and they were business partners and good friends from what I heard.

Suddenly I heard the first bird chirp, welcoming the morning. I yawned and stretched out my sore muscles, still aching from the previous day spent washing, cooking, cleaning, and bending over.

My back ached, and with great difficulty, I lay again on my scratchy but stable bed in the cold attic where I've resided since I was twelve years old.

Now eighteen, I was officially an adult. So why couldn't I leave the pack and strike out in my direction? Simple. Father loved having me around. Why, do you ask? So he could vent out his rage, anger, and frustration on me and remind me that I was the cause they were all suffering.

And I quote suffering. They weren't close to suffering. They had everything they could want; a pack, a lavish home, protection from rival packs, and their little heir, my adopted brother Alec. Father said he didn't want me to be his heir. He wanted a male. One could become Alpha, breed the females, and carry on the Emerald Guardians legacy.

I'm willing to bet my life that no one would remember us when we're gone. They all hate us. Hate us for getting Eurille and Xavier killed, hate us for our betrayal, hate us for shaming the Romanian Empire. After my uncle and Eurille died, no one wanted anything to do with us. They looked at us with contempt and disdain.

Climbing out of my bed, I walked across the wooden floor in my thin nightgown and went to the bathroom with a cramped shower stall, a sink, toilet, and a broken mirror. Striping out of the nightgown, I tied up my auburn curls and stepped in the shower.

I turned the water on and immediately cringed. It was freezing.

I waited patiently for the water to get hot. When it did, I hissed in pain as it traveled down my back, onto my cuts from last night, put there by my father when I tripped on someone's feet and spilled the red wine that I was carrying to the dinner table where my father, my mother, Alec and Alec's mate, Natalie and her parents were seated.

In a fit of rage, my father shot up from the table and slapped me across my face. He grabbed my hair, bent me over the table, and lashed me twelve times with his belt in front of everyone, making me scream and plead for mercy. When he was through with me, my clothes were torn, and my skin was bruised.

Father took me by my arm, dragged me to the attic, threw me on the floor, and left me with my wounds, crying my eyes out. Falling asleep with all those cuts and bruises on my body was sheer hell! I didn't have the luxury of fast werewolf healing, so I had to wait if it weren't for the fact that my title had been stripped.

When my shower was done, I gingerly wrapped myself in a towel, brushed my teeth, and eyed myself in the mirror. My skin was pale as milk, my eyes were emerald green, and I had freckles on the bridge of my nose. The bruises from where Father's fist was clenched around my neck made me visibly cringe.

Sighing at my ugly reflection, I left the bathroom and went to my chest of drawers, where I pulled out a pair of skinny black jeans, a grey turtleneck sweater to cover my bruises, a couple of panties, and a matching bra to cover my sorry excuse for breasts. They weren't flat, but they weren't as defined as they were supposed to be.

I changed quickly and slipped a pair of sandals on my un-manicured but slender feet. I never really used nail polish. My toes were cut and plain. Simple, I tell you. I brushed my hair till it shone and tied it into a ponytail. After tidying the room, I left after surveying my old but comfortable clothes.

"Just another day in the life of me. Don't get into trouble and keep the low show, and they won't bother you. You've got this, Artemis," I said to myself like I did every morning to boost my deflated self-esteem.

"Artemis, you've got to stop talking to yourself like this. People will start to think you're nuts," my wolf Caroline said in my head. It was the first time she's spoken to me since yesterday evening because I didn't leave the packhouse, and that deprived her of her daily run through the woods.

She was a beautiful wolf in reddish fur, cream underbelly, and emerald green eyes. She was my best friend. When I started to get abused by everyone, Caro always helped me get through it and was my shoulder to cry whenever I was miserable. I truly loved her.

"Well, look who finally decided to stop being a sourpuss," I teased. She scoffed, and I grinned. Caroline was so cute when she was like that. Her eyes would roll up in her head, and she would make the sweetest sound like a temperamental child who was told he could go outside because it was raining.

"Look, Caro, I promise we'll go for a run this evening. Just let me get through the day alive, and we'll go for a nice long run while Father is meeting with Marcus." I said in an attempt to appease my pouty wolf. To this, she howled and started to prance around in my head, a frequent reaction out of her.

"Stop it, you crazy wolf, you're giving me a headache!" I said in annoyance.

I opened the door with a groan, jogged down the two floors of stairs, and made my way down the long hallway, through the dining room, and into the kitchen. I started preparing breakfast for the pack, which would take me approximately an hour considering the size of the pack—about two hundred wolves.

I wasn't the only omega working the early shift. Two others, Tali Jerald and Barbara Sanders, were there too.

Tali was nineteen and Barbara seventeen. Tali, a brunette with fair skin, grey eyes, and a petite frame, was my best friend after Caroline. We've known each other since we were pups. Tali was the daughter of Gamma Kyle. Her mate Josh left her for her cousin Asha, and she was depressed for five months and counting.

Because Josh severed the bond instead of rejecting her, she was still alive. Wolves who get their mate bond severed stay depressed for a few months, then they forget about it and get on with their lives. The pain of losing your mate is something you can never get over.

It eats you alive and makes you do things that can either kill you or drive you insane. But thanks to me and Barbara's support, Tali got over the broken feelings, and now she's doing much better—at least.

Barbara hadn't found her mate yet. She had long blonde hair, orange eyes, and like mine, Barbara's skin was pale. She was rebellious and a little rowdy despite her age. Barbara was Delta Mario's daughter. She became an omega since she had no skills suited for any other job.

She couldn't fight, so a soldier wasn't appropriate. She wasn't responsible enough, so pup sitting was a no-no. Barbara couldn't cook to save her life, so she was terrible at being a chef. I ate spaghetti and meatballs from her once, and I almost died.

The spaghetti was half cooked, the sauce was too salty, and the meatballs tasted like they were weeks old. I had food poisoning and had to stay in bed for a good three days. I never ate anything at the hands of Barbara again, not even a sandwich.

Tali was an omega mainly because her parents didn't want to see her face—ever! She let Josh slip through her fingers, and for that, she was sent to be an omega even during her depression stage.

I glanced at the clock and saw that it was five fifteen. The pack would arise at seven, just enough time to make a huge breakfast, clean up, and get started on our chores. We would eat after the pack did—one of the curses of being an omega. We always got the short end of the stick. Always.