Marked By Rejection by Avery Stone

Prologue: Don't Let Me Burn With Regret

I don't want to die.

The thought rang over and over in my mind as I fought against the ropes holding my wrists captive. I hadn't felt panic like this in a very long time, cold sweat dripping down my body while I struggled to simply breathe.

My eyes darted everywhere in the car, desperate to get a glimpse of any saving grace that would catapult me out of this deadly situation.

Why did this happen? What did I do to land me here?

My way of thinking would be scolded by my therapist, but there had to be more to this than just the wrong place and time. I knew better, and though I was fighting against the tightness in my chest that emphasized the truth of the matter unfolding before me, I couldn't allow myself to accept it.

To admit that, yet again, I've been betrayed by those who should have loved me...protected me.

That was how Kyle died.

Instead of his death motivating me to strive for better, I turned into...this. A helpless woman who took shit from everyone. Not because I was shy or truly weak, but because I was just tired of fighting a battle I'd never win.

I deserved to perish in this world that hated outcasts like me.

"How far out before we reach the woods?"

My eyes darted to the review mirror, hoping to get a picture of who the driver was. The voice was familiar, and they were purposely speaking deeper to disguise their voice.

"Five minutes?"

"Do I really have to wait that long to feast?" I swallowed the lump in my throat as the cloth wrapped around my mouth became more apparent with how desperate I was to speak out.

To scream, be heard, and beg for mercy.

This moment in my life that was surely coming to a dramatic end ignited so many thoughts of regret. I couldn't understand why I couldn't change myself. Why did I have to be such a weak person? No strength, perseverance, drive. I was the biggest pushover, and that was why I sat next to my boyfriend - my apparent kidnapper.

I'd finished my shift like any other person, once again getting cut off on tips because I was "too generous" and couldn't speak up for myself. The long, shitty day was the repeat of my last four years, since I’d volunteered at this cafe before I’d gotten a part-time job at fifteen.

Part-time led to full time, but the pay hadn't changed, and the overtime made me worried about whether I'd ever get paid my fair share versus everyone around me that were doing half the work

I do it to myself.

That was what my boyfriend had said every day for the last two years. We started dating when I was sixteen, and now that I was inching towards nineteen, I'd come to realize he wasn't the best for me. At first, he was my safe haven.

Someone strong who I hoped not to necessarily rely on, but who could provide me a sense of safety in this small town that was the only option for a girl like me with no money, inheritance, or family members. My parents died in a freak accident that I'd personally come to conclude was a murder.

My little brother, Kyle, was kidnapped by a molester, and they found his body in the woods just before a forest fire attempted to get rid of all the evidence. And my older brother? Well, he vanished after my younger brother's disappearance.

The fact that he wasn’t considered a prime suspect was just another circumstance that worked against me, and it left me homeless, with no money, and nothing to work hard towards.

I was just barely surviving in the hollows of this desolate world.

So why was I now heading towards the same path as my little brother?

I never thought my boyfriend would try to sell me. After my shift, he picked me up and offered me a bottle of orange juice after a long day. I paid no mind to it - my ultimate mistake - and now I was here, trying to not have a panic attack with my boyfriend to my left and a driver in black and wearing a mask taking us to the outskirts of our small town called Hollow Country.

I came here to start over because it was the closest town to the big city filled with matte black buildings and hopeful dreams, but more important, Hollow Country was a close-knit community and the forestry around it was a real sight to see.

Why didn't I think it would be too good to be true? Too beautiful to hide the disgusting deeds done by their own townspeople?

The man looked into the rearview mirror, his eyes locking onto my pale blue ones. My eyes were the most unique in the family. I’d taken most of my father's qualities, which included my very odd two-toned hair. Everyone thought it was highlighted to be a vivid orange that shifted into turquoise blue locks, but nope. I was born that way.

That kind of combination is one of a kind.

My look of recognition may have triggered his response as he hastily muttered, "Go ahead, but don't suck her dry. She’s gotta look decent enough to sell to the pack."

Sell to the pack? Don't suck me dry?! What do they mean? What's going on?

Fear shot through my senses as my boyfriend chuckled and looked over at me. I was afraid to peer to my left side - to see those eyes that should have shown me compassion be filled with a sort of hunger that wasn't human in the slightest.

His eyes that always gave me the impression of moss green were a striking red that I'd never witnessed before. They surely couldn't be contacts, especially when his eyes were normal just seconds ago. Maybe I was hallucinating - that would maybe make this situation feel more like a dream than my unfolding reality.

"Wren," he sweetly said, like my name was his favorite dessert. It was crazy how he was now using my nickname when the entirety of our relationship he'd called me Gwenivere - or Gwen when he was harsh and controlling.

I'd liked Wren because Kyle enjoyed calling me that. He'd learned in school that a wren was a small bird, and I guessed I sometimes felt like that - a little bird in the vast world.Theonly difference was that I'd yet to figure out how to fly.

My wings were clipped together by anyone who wanted to take advantage of the circumstances.

The use of it now made me feel like a helpless ant awaiting the death of being squished with the rest of its home, my body wracked with trembles that only encouraged my boyfriend to smile brilliantly.

"Don't be afraid, babe," he assured me as if he weren't the ultimate culprit of my fright and situation. "It'll all be over soon."

He leaned in as if he were going to kiss me, the tightness in my chest only further growing as dark memories fought to cut through the surface of my frantic mind. I couldn't handle this or I'd suffocate without any outside assistance.

A panic attack now would be a better ending than what these guys were planning for me.

I wished to tell him to get away from me. To stop what he was aiming to do, even with this taut, thick fabric over my mouth. But the words always got stuck in my tight throat - a repetition of forced silence on my own accord versus the outside sources that wished for me to be mute.

No matter the physical suffering plaguing me.

I wasn't expecting the sharp pain that dove into my flesh at the side of my neck, leaving me to whimper as pain rushed through my body like a venomous poison. I tried to jerk away as the pain intensified, making a grunting sound against my boyfriend's throat as he purposely took his seatbelt off to make sure I stayed still.

His grip was harsh - painful - to the point that I was sure even my tanned, tatted skin would be bruised and the marks of his digging fingertips would be left behind. I had to figure out what was happening, my mind fighting to put one and two together, but as this man sucked, my brain felt like a fog was rolling through it.

My eyes grew weak as the world spun, but my strike of delusion still didn't rub off those familiar eyes in the rearview mirror that watched in disgust. A flash of those orbs told me he disliked what was happening, and yet he continued to drive while his expression went blank.

I tried to plead with him to make this all stop with just my eyes - begging for a change of heart, but my attempt was futile.

His eyes dismissed me like he had the majority of our lives.

I had no doubt in my mind now. The driver was my older brother, Hendrick.

A part of me wished to be in a state of disbelief. That was the normal circumstance, was it not? But then again, as much as the world deemed me a stupid fool, I was done trying to act like my brother was a saint.

Our suffering, Kyle's death, my struggle through the years, and my battles with all the fucked-up shit I dealt with were all thanks to him.

He ruined me when I was but an innocent little girl in a big, dark world, and now he was going to be one of my murderers. He didn't need to place a hand on me to contribute to the approaching deed, but what hurt more was that I couldn't do anything to stop all of this.

Why am I so pathetic? Even with death knocking on my door?

Wasn't this the moment I had to suddenly become a badass bitch and find a way out? That was what happened in the books I'd come to enjoy. They reflected beings I wished to become.

Strong women. Ones who didn't take bullshit from the men around them who manipulated their situations to benefit themselves in the best way while leaving them victims of "wrong place, wrong time".

Those stories always held a heroine who embodied perseverance, beauty, power at their fingertips, and they knew exactly what to do to dominate the man's world they lived in. I wished for that, begged to be a woman who lifted her head up high and would fuck anyone over sideways if they fought to steal my shine.

But that wasn't me.

No matter how many times I stepped forward to walk down that path I admired so much, something would happen. A situation as simple as a slap to my ass against my will or the worst-case scenario where I have no choice but to remain still as my boyfriend enjoyed this body of mine to please his own needs instead of my own made me freeze up.

No matter the tattoos I got to hide the scars that never really faded away or the massive butterfly tattoo on my chest I used to hide the wound scars of an attack I endured the same night as Kyle's kidnapping, I couldn't run away from being weak.

And it was going to be the end of me.

I could barely move now, my mind on a rollercoaster that just wouldn't stop. My groan was weak, my body suddenly heavy, and I succumbed to exhaustion that was very opposite from the adrenaline I needed to figure out my way out of this trap.

"Enough, Travis!" Hendrick hissed. "You're going to fucking kill her."

The piercing pain retracted, but the dizziness still fought at my senses like a plague I had no control over. My body immediately slumped to the side, my seatbelt the only thing saving me from just collapsing onto the floor of the back seat.

"Not my fault she’s so fucking delicious. Jeez. I should have bitten her ages ago. Would have been nice when I fucked her."

"You two fuck?"

"Well, she lets me do what I want, Hendrick," Travis announced. "Can't be my girlfriend if we're not fucking. She learned that the hard way."

"You forced yourself on my sister?" he snarled, and the way Travis laughed would haunt me to the grave. It was like he'd gotten some sort of confidence boost after doing whatever he'd done to me over the years.

"You're literally helping me sell off your sister to get you out of that shithole you fell into with Kolt's pack, and yet you're pissed I raped your sister? You sure have some fucked-up priorities." He laughed and then quietly added, "Funny how you did the exact same. Don't act like she lost her innocence to me."

"Shut the fuck up, Travis."

"You're a fucking coward, bro," Travis mocked. "At least between us, I know what a piece of shit I am and proudly accept it. You're just one of the many cock suckers who try to act like a saint on the outside, but you're just as tainted as the rest of those selfish pricks."

"I'll run this fucking thing off a cliff if you keep that lip up."

That didn't even stop Travis from losing himself in laughter.

"Go ahead. Who are you fucking over? You and I will survive, but your sis is just human and she'll fucking die."

"She..." He didn't continue, which made Travis chuckle quietly.

"Out of your whole damn family, only you took the wolf gene, while your sister and younger bro were useless humans. See the sad irony you brought to the Monarchs? Younger brother killed because of your foolish actions and now your sister is about to face the same fate. No wonder your father said you were a mista-"

"Enough!" Hendrick snapped. I was thankful for my seatbelt because he skidded the car to a dramatic stop that left Travis cursing.

"Fucker! You want me to fly out of the front windshield?"

"I'm not doing this with you," he hissed.

"We've come too far for you to get to this point in the kidnapping stage, idiot," Travis scoffed. "You fucked up one of the mafia’s biggest deals, and if you don't bring a woman for him to have his way with and dissect, you might as well go on the run like the criminal they're dying to label you as."

"You don't know shit," Hendrick snapped.

"You think your pack name is gonna be your saving grace?" Travis retorted back. "Your father's in fucking hiding for the shit you pulled off. You got your mother murdered or whatever the fuck happened to her that led to your father's spiral into drugs and pissing off the wrong mafia gangs down in the city. You got your younger brother murdered, and now you're selling your fucking sister who you have molested for how many years? You're a damn disease to this entire family name and if your father didn't go into hiding, I bet you'd get their whole pack killed as well."

"I'm gonna fucking kill you," Hendrick hissed.

"I'm immortal, fucker," Travis gleefully declared. "I can't be killed, but you certainly can, since you’re a wolf."

"We're not doing this."

The sound of something clicking into place made my rapidly beating heart stop in its tracks while something cold pressed to my temple.

"Listen, Hendrick. Maybe I'm not being threatening enough," Travis whispered using that voice he always used on me.

The softened voice of a predator hiding their true desires and secrets with the tender tone to lure you right into their web of lies.

Only this time around, I bet my brother knew his intentions weren't pure - especially when there was clearly a gun pressed against my temple.

"I don't want to kill your precious little sister, but your mess up fucked me big time and I can't handle that," he snarled. "Do you understand how powerful Kolten is? Everyone's always afraid of that reject Killian simply because of his murder record, but Kolten runs the city and this town isn't safe from his predatory hands."

He paused to take a moment to deeply inhale and let it out slowly.

"You see this vampire body of mine? It's fucking dying. Blood simply sustains the fucking craziness in my head. And you know how very few of us are left anywhere near this town. My coven went into hiding with your pack after the bullshit you pulled, and the alliance was run by your father. With him gone, the vamps don't see any need to be around, which means I can't find the answers I need to fix myself," he explained. "But Kolt has the connections to the medicine I need. He has the means to lead me back to the coven I was exiled from, and with a few string pulls, I can get back to my home. I've worked eons to finally be able to get this far, and I knew your sister would be perfect bait. That's why I dated her."

How had I fallen for all of this?

I knew Travis wasn't the best boyfriend. I knew he was a dangerous person from the vibe he gave off and when he said we had to do the deed or else he'd break up with me and make life hell. Only, my life was already a living hell. But I guessed having a boyfriend made it less lonely. How wrong of a decision I realized it was now.

I should have run away like I'd wished to do so many times. To be the true outcast and abandon everything about the city, the town, everything. If I'd gone to an island or one of those huge cities where millions of people lived, would they have found me?

Regardless if I was pursued by whoever our enemy was, maybe I'd be a whole lot stronger and not a weak victim left to this level of abuse.

"Now that you know my story, you gotta cooperate with me so we can both get out of this shithole. Your sister is pretty useless, but don't act like she didn't take your mother's gift."

Gift?

"It's dormant," Hendrick hissed. "She can't even light a candle with her mind. How the fuck is she gonna be like my mom, who burned a fucking city down when she was pregnant?"

"Your mom burned that city to the fucking ground and all that was left was ashes. Nothing survived that, but you know what did? She had her unborn child, which was your baby sis."

"She doesn't have any powers, Travis! She's fucking useless!"

"You said the same about Kyle, and yet he set half of the forest on fire and killed his captives before they found his body," Travis countered.

"How the fuck do you know all of this?!"

"Because I do my research, Hendrick. And do you know why Kolt desperately needs your sister?"

"Why?!" Travis snapped.

"She's his mate."

Pin drop silence.

"You're lying."

"She has the same skull mark on her chest as him."

"That-"

"Isn't a tattoo, so stop trying to convince yourself otherwise," Travis suggested.

"He'll ruin her."

"She's as good as dead anyway." Travis was back to laughing, the sound beginning to make my head hurt, but I began to feel something else.

A weird, heavy feeling.

This wasn't good because the prickling emotion of dread always happened when my life would be turned upside down: when our father disappeared when Kyle was kidnapped and murdered, when my mother went missing and was assumed dead just like my father, and this morning before I went to my shift.

Each time, I'd ignored the warnings my body fought desperately for me to feel and obey - to cancel whatever I was doing and take the safest route versus what was destined for me. I wanted to listen to its plea for once in my life, but I couldn't move my frail body.

I felt like I'd gone frozen, my body numb to the point that I wasn't sure if I was breathing. The pounding of my heart was loud enough to ring in my ears, but something bad was happening to me and I couldn't decipher it with my whirlwind mind.

"Now, let's be on our way, shall..."

I waited for the rest of Travis's words, but instead, a string of curses left his lips.

"Fuck, fuck! Move the car!"

"What?" Hendrick's question was filled with enough panic to frighten me further, as goosebumps crawled upon my flesh and I sought every thread of strength within me to try to open my eyes.

"Shit!" Travis cursed, and I heard the door open.

"Fuck! Are you running away? Help us!" Hendrick screamed in haste as it felt like he was fumbling with the ignition to turn it off and on again. But compared to before where he left the car running, the ignition wouldn't start at all. "Shit, shit, shit! No. I can't fuck this up...fuck! Why do I have such shitty luck?"

That humming warning within me began to burn stronger, the heat spreading from the core of my chest outward. It moved to my arms, all the way to my fingertips before it began its journey down my waist to my hips, but the warmth was only escalating just how much shit I was about to be in.

I fought to open my eyes, begged for them to cooperate for a single moment, and thankfully, they shot right open - as my body was filled with a bolt of charged adrenaline.

The seatbelt prevented me from jerking forward. My panicked eyes that could barely stay half-open suddenly met those of my older brother.

One look and it felt like the world came to a striking halt.

I thought after years of not seeing him, the pain wouldn't be as sharp as it was. The memories in the depths of the dark, those chilling eyes viewing me in an imaginative world that only pleased him consumed me.

My muffled cries, my whispered pleas, the realization that no matter how hard I tried, he'd always get his way.

It was all back and shot me right in the chest like a bullet - only that pain would haunt me for days, months, years on end, and he'd simply continue to live on the run, hiding because of the true deeds he committed out of selfishness.

The deeds that made our family crumble into a lost legacy.

I knew from the click of his seatbelt that he'd be gone from my view, and I'd most likely never see him again. He'd get to, once again, run from his problems and leave them upon my burdened shoulders.

Unless I died right here and now.

There was that voice begging me to say the words that I'd kept within the pit of my chest for years. It begged me to reveal how much pain this individual, who should have been my family member I could lean on, had contributed and changed me to satisfy his own desires and impatient tendencies.

My life, the consequences, the pain I experienced at the expense of his actions, and the continued situations I fell for because I was still traumatized from our tangled past should have been enough to let it all out.

Let the rage inside me reign and deliver the onslaught of pain this man deserved.

But there were those strings that felt like they were wrapping around my neck - invisible strings that were sharp as ever, cutting through my flesh and making it feel like the entire world was caving in on me.

The thoughts of ridicule from my fellow peers, the words of the public that would degrade me because of all the flaws I carried, while the culprit of my agony received sympathy and support from those in power.

The voices that chanted that I should be quiet because I deserved to carry this pain.

For a split second, all of it came to a dramatic silence, and that was my moment.

"I'll never forgive you."

His eyes widened to their full capacity, while mine was already the bearer of fresh tears that rolled down my cheeks and into the cloth.

I hadn't even realized I still wore the thing, and yet the words were so clear to my ears - and to his. I couldn't comprehend the current stuff that was happening to me, and maybe I would if I ever had the opportunity to do so, but he knew from my haunting eyes of sky blue, that surely looked like pools of water thanks to their glassy surface, that my words referred to how he'd fucked my entire life up.

How he'd ruined me. Stole my innocence. Abandoned Kyle and me. And just fucked up my entire childhood and teenage years. He'd ruined it all...and I could truly never forgive him.

The blow of a loud horn startled us both. His head whipped around to see the approaching headlights of a sixteen-wheeler. As my eyes widened, he was already out of the driver's seat and running in a blur of movement.

The sound of something cracking multiple times was only drowned out by the thunderous horn that sang on in hopes I'd somehow move this car out of the truck's path, but I knew from the speed it was approaching that I was screwed.

The blinding lights consumed me as my burning body grew rigid, bracing for the moment all of this would come to a dramatic end.

I knew when Death came that I'd have a list worth of regrets, but at least there was one thing I could say to him in confidence.

I told my perpetrator who destroyed my life that I'd never forgive them.