Rejected but Unbroken: Fated for the Cruel Alpha
- Genre: Werewolf
- Age: 18+
- Status: Completed
- Language: English
- Author: Winnergirl.
- Uploaded by user516915
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Rejected Under The moonlight At The Mating Ritual
At times, the treatment I receive within my pack sparks doubts about my belongingness. As an Omega, the lowest rank, I've observed how they treat others of my kind, but their issue with me feels more personal. Despite working diligently at the park beta's house, tending to every need, I recognize the less-than-ideal treatment I endure.
This has persisted for years, and though I've stayed silent, considering it a learning experience, I've harbored a persistent hope. A hope to meet my mate, someone who will rescue me from this situation. As time passes, I sense the urgency, realizing that if it doesn't happen soon, it might not happen at all.
Suddenly, my name echoes through the air, a signal that there's assigned work awaiting my attention.
"Layla!"
"Coming!" I respond, hastily brushing a hand over my face. Assigned to do laundry, I suspect my prolonged absence has been noticed. Letting out another sigh, I ascended the stairs swiftly, covering two steps at a time.
"You were sent out with the laundry almost an hour ago!" It was a clear exaggeration, not even half an hour had passed. "Come and take these clothes to be smoothed. There's an event tonight, and if you finish on time, you may join."
Excitement tinged my cheeks as I accepted the clothing. Amidst everyone seemingly forgetting or not caring, today marked my 18th birthday—the time to find my mate. I had fervently prayed to the moon goddess for guidance, envisioning resolution on this special night, and it appeared to be unfolding.
In that moment, as I left the room, thoughts swirled about who my mate might be within the pack. Alphas, Betas, Omegas—beautiful men abounded, and at this point, rank didn't matter. I simply yearned for someone to rescue me from my misery. Turning away, a single teardrop rolled down my face, landing on the garment I held.
Did any of it truly matter? Every pack member had insulted me without exception. None showed any regard, and their closest semblance to love was steeped in pity.
This meant my mate had likely faced the same insults as everyone else. The thought was draining, but I shook my head, choosing to focus on tonight's events. Having been in the pack since losing my parents, every year around this time, the Beta I worked for would leave and return. Even fellow slaves treated me with disdain, making it pointless to ask them. However, I considered it a potential mating ritual, a chance to gain something or, if fate smiled upon me, someone.
As I pressed out wrinkles on the garment, I pondered what to wear to avoid ridicule. A new dress seemed perfect for the occasion. Sneaking down to the servant's quarters, I grabbed my dress, pressing out its creases. The upcoming night felt magical, and I wanted to look good.
After two hours of work, I finished and took a shower, anticipating the bell signaling our departure with our master. Though he would ride in a carriage ahead, being surrounded by people like me mattered more. Thirty minutes later, the journey began to the pack square, where stations were already filled. Despite snickers from fellow slaves, I kept my head outside the window to avoid dwelling on it. Soon, we arrived, and the bustling pack members brought an unwilling smile to my face.
Amidst the festivities, I found a secluded spot to avoid ridicule that often accompanied such gatherings. Fellow pack members cared little about my feelings, readily using me as a punching bag. If it meant steering clear of both festivities and insults, I was content to stay away.
Not long after, the annual mating ritual was announced. Excited, I stood with other pack members, maintaining distance to sidestep potential insults.
The first person in the queue was swiftly matched with Terry, a kind Omega from the pack, causing a pang of envy in my heart.
Next in line was the lady beside me, a beta with long hair, clearly hoping for a significant role like Luna. However, she ended up matched with an Omega slave. Voicing her discontent about the perceived unfairness, she stormed out of the festival, her new mate in tow.
Finally, it was my turn. I closed my eyes, anticipating the supposed thrum of heat that would signify finding my mate. Moving around, I stopped in front of the Alpha of my pack, a smile on my face.
"I think—sorry, sir, but I believe I am your mate."