Chapter 2

Three days had passed since the rejection, and my body still felt like it was betraying me at every turn. The mate bond sickness came in waves—sometimes a dull ache that made my bones feel hollow, other times sharp spikes of pain that left me gasping for breath. But I had to keep going. I had to pretend I was fine.

The dining hall buzzed with its usual morning chatter as I slipped inside, hoping to grab something quick and escape before anyone noticed me. My plan crumbled the moment I heard her laugh.

Sophia's melodic voice cut through the noise like a blade, drawing every eye in the room. She glided between the tables with the grace of someone who had never doubted her place in the world, her golden hair catching the morning light streaming through the tall windows. When she spotted me, her lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Zane, darling," she called out, her voice carrying just enough volume to ensure everyone heard. "Come sit with me."

I should have left. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but my feet remained rooted to the floor as Zane appeared from the serving line, his tray balanced in one hand. He moved with that fluid Alpha grace that made my traitorous heart skip, his dark hair still damp from his morning run. When his eyes briefly met mine across the room, something flickered there—too quick to identify before his expression hardened into that familiar mask of indifference.

Sophia deliberately chose a table directly across from where I stood frozen, patting the bench beside her with theatrical enthusiasm. "Right here, my love. I've missed you."

The endearment hit me like a physical blow. My wolf, already weak from the rejection, whimpered deep in my chest. I forced myself to move to a corner table, my hands shaking as I set down my barely-touched breakfast.

That's when Sophia struck.

"Zane," she purred, her manicured fingers trailing along his jaw as he sat beside her. "You look tense. Let me help with that."

Before he could respond, she pulled him down into a kiss that was anything but chaste. Her tongue slid against his, her body arching into him with practiced seduction. But it was her eyes that destroyed me—wide open over his shoulder, staring directly at me with triumphant malice as she claimed what she believed was hers.

The fork in my hand bent under the pressure of my grip, my knuckles turning white as I watched the man who was supposed to be my mate respond to another woman's touch. His hands came up to frame her face, and even from across the room, I could see the way his body reacted to her proximity.

But his eyes... his eyes burned into mine over her shoulder, dark and intense and filled with something I couldn't name. Pain? Anger? The same torment that was eating me alive from the inside?

A single tear escaped before I could stop it, rolling down my cheek as the mate bond that should have been severed continued to pulse with phantom pain. The sight of them together was like watching someone torture my soul while forcing me to smile.

I fled.

The next few hours passed in a blur of humiliation and physical agony. By the time combat training rolled around, I was running on pure stubbornness and the desperate need to prove I wasn't completely broken.

The training grounds buzzed with aggressive energy as pairs of wolves sparred under the afternoon sun. I tried to focus on the instructor's commands, but waves of bond-sickness kept washing over me, making my vision blur and my hands tremble.

"Focus, Rivers!" Instructor Kane barked as I stumbled during a basic defensive sequence. "This isn't a tea party!"

Snickers erupted from the other trainees, particularly the group of young Alphas who had always looked down on me. Now, with my rejection public knowledge, their disdain had transformed into open cruelty.

"What did you expect?" sneered Derek, a broad-shouldered Alpha whose father served on the pack council. "She's a rejected Omega. Her wolf is probably too weak to function properly now."

"Maybe she should stick to kitchen duty," added another, his words drawing harsh laughter from his friends.

I tried to block them out, tried to focus on the training dummy in front of me, but another wave of sickness hit me like a sledgehammer. My knees buckled, and I tasted copper as I bit down hard on my tongue to keep from crying out.

That's when Derek decided to push his luck.

"Look at her," he said, circling me like a predator. "Can't even stand up straight. Rejected Omegas don't belong here, Rivers. You're just taking up space that real wolves could use."

He shoved me hard, his Alpha strength sending me crashing to the ground. Pain exploded through my shoulder as I hit the packed earth, dirt grinding into my palms as I tried to push myself up.

"Stay down," Derek commanded, his voice carrying that Alpha authority that was supposed to make Omegas submit. "Know your place."

But as I struggled to my hands and knees, my vision swimming with pain and humiliation, something inside me refused to break. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was spite. Or maybe it was the faint echo of power I'd always felt thrumming beneath my skin, the strange energy that had never made sense for an Omega.

I made it halfway to my feet before the world tilted sideways again. More copper flooded my mouth, and I realized I was bleeding—not just from my bitten tongue, but from my nose as well. The physical manifestation of my emotional torment was becoming impossible to hide.

The other trainees had fallen silent, some looking uncomfortable now that my distress was so visible. Even Derek seemed to realize he'd gone too far, his expression shifting from cruel amusement to uncertainty.

I wiped the blood from my nose with the back of my hand, my legs shaking as I finally managed to stand. "I'm fine," I whispered, though we all knew it was a lie.

That evening, I sought refuge in the one place that had always brought me peace—the pack library. The ancient stone building was mostly empty after dinner, its towering shelves and soft lamplight offering sanctuary from the judgment and whispers that followed me everywhere else.

I made my way to the section on mate bonds, desperate to understand why mine felt so different from everything I'd read. The books spoke of clean breaks, of rejection pain that faded within days. But this... this felt like a wound that refused to heal, a connection that pulsed with phantom life despite being severed.

The book I needed was on the highest shelf, of course. I stretched up on my toes, my weakened body protesting as I reached for the leather-bound volume. My fingers just brushed the spine when my strength gave out.

I was falling backward, my arms windmilling uselessly, when strong hands caught me around the waist. The familiar scent of mint and winter storms enveloped me as I was pulled against a solid chest, and I knew without looking who had caught me.

Zane.

His hands gripped my waist possessively, his body a wall of heat behind me as I struggled to catch my breath. This close, I could feel the rapid beat of his heart, could sense the tension thrumming through his powerful frame.

"You're making this harder than it needs to be," he whispered harshly against my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine.