His Refused Mate by Jade Marshall
Chapter One
Peyton
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I watch the sunrise over the trees surrounding the compound I call home. Mother nature takes her brush and paints the sky in wide strokes of color.
Drawing my gaze from the sight before me, I breathe deeply before looking around my small room. Beige walls are devoid of any art or photos. A single cot occupies the corner beside a rickety side table. My bedding is faded to the point that I can no longer remember the color it used to be, but I do recall I hated it. The carpet is threadbare and fraying in spots. A sadness settles deep in my heart.
I miss my parents. Even after eight years, there isn’t a day that goes by without me thinking about them. Longing for the normality we had before fills me. My eyes burn with tears before I can force them down. I won’t cry, not today.
The door to my small room swings open, knocking the knob into the already dented plaster behind it. In the doorway stands Ebeth, wife to our current Beta.
“What the hell are you doing?” She eyes me up and down in disgust. “Everyone will be up soon, and breakfast hasn’t even been started yet.”
This is another part of my existence. Due to the loyalty the pack had to my father, when he didn’t come back, they took me in (in a manner of speaking). I am now the property of the pack. Meaning I am at their beck and call.
Need a babysitter? Get Peyton to do it.
Does the main house need cleaning? Get Peyton to do it.
Food for the Alpha and his lieutenants? Peyton can do it.
But today of all days, my eighteenth birthday, I thought that someone else would do something. I have been serving the pack since I can remember, without complaint, without asking to be helped. I don’t know why I thought today would be any different.
“I’m sorry, Ebeth. I was on my way down.” I defer to her, keeping my eyes downcast as I apologize.
“Well, get your fat ass moving,” she snarls in my direction before moving out of my room and down the hallway.
Slowly, I rise from my bed. I check the plait in my blonde hair and run my hands down the front of my dress, making sure I am presentable, and head downstairs to fix breakfast for no less than fifteen people. As I move through the halls, I take in the opulence of the rest of the main house. This is the Alpha’s residence, after all, and nothing but the best will do. It is the complete opposite of my room.
Embroidered wallpaper the color of wheat in a field, gilded frames flanking both sides, deep red, thick carpeting. Everything around me speaks of wealth and decadence. The kitchen is every woman’s dream. I take in the marble countertops, stainless steel appliances, and dark cherry cupboards. It is a beautiful house, but it isn’t home. There is no warmth here. No laughter. No love.
I slip an apron over my lavender, knee-length dress and start to prepare the meal. Bacon, eggs, the bread I baked yesterday afternoon, a freshly brewed pot of coffee, and several other things. When everything is ready I finish plating for the Alpha and move to take it into the dining room, where everyone is seated. The Alpha is always served first.
Entering the room, I feel a tingle start in my toes, rushing through my system, running up my spine until suddenly the breath is stolen from my lungs for a moment. My heightened senses kick in and a smell assaults me. Dark, rich, like the earth has just been tilled before planting starts. I inspect the room, trying to find the source of the smell, but find no new face.
Seated at the head of the table is the Alpha with his Beta to his right. There are at least six other high-ranking pack members in attendance this morning with their mates if they have any. There isn’t a stranger in sight, but the scent that assaults me is something I have never smelled before. The Alpha clears his throat, causing me to move toward him. I set his breakfast down in front of him, and as I turn to move away he grabs my wrist.
A spark shoots from him to me. I close my eyes, feeling it travel through my entire body. The Alpha hasn’t spoken to me in the last six months and hasn’t touched me in years. I find this moment both terrifying and exhilarating. What the hell is going on?
“Peyton,” he rumbles, commanding my attention.
I lift my gaze from the ground to meet his. He is certainly what would be considered a handsome man, but I have always found him to be intimidating. Broad shoulders and a great physique. Dark, almost black hair with eyes the same color. His face is stoic and never gives away any of his thoughts.
Leisurely he runs his finger over the pulse point in my wrist, causing my heart to skip a beat. I stare at his hand for a long second before he removes it.
“Today is your eighteenth birthday?” he questions.
“Yes,” I say softly.
He already knew before he asked me. As the Alpha, he knows everything, about every member of the pack. It is his job, after all.
“Do you smell it?” he asks.
I nod, grateful that someone knows what is going on.
“It’s the mating scent. The same one that sent your father out into the woods to find your mother. It’s a scent that will drive lesser men to the brink and cause them to do stupid things. I am not one of those men.”
He rises from his seat, and the room goes quiet around us. Everyone has their attention fixed on our Alpha, not wanting to miss a single word he says.
“As Alpha of Hatcher pack, I Slade Porter renounce any claim to Peyton Black as my one true mate. I refuse her, severing any bond between us.”
As he speaks, a coldness flows over me. My breath freezes in my lungs. Refusing a mate is unheard of, not just because most shifters search for their mate wholeheartedly, but because the refusal of a mate could kill a shifter. I shiver even as the summer day is warm outside. And with his last words, a tearing sensation rips through me, causing me to scream out in agony and collapse beside the table. It feels like my spine is being twisted inside my body, like all my organs are being rearranged in alphabetical order. And as tears stream down my face, sobs shaking my entire body, Slade peers down at me with disdain before sitting down to eat his breakfast. Like I’m nothing.
Ebeth stares down at me, too, and for the first time in my life she looks at me with something that doesn’t resemble hate. The emotion shining in her eyes is pity. She mouths the word sorry, tears shimmering in her eyes.
After moments of breathing through the pain, I slowly lift myself from the floor and move toward the kitchen. And although I know I shouldn’t, I walk past the food I just prepared and out the door into the sunlight. I don’t think as I strip out of my dress, throwing it to the floor, before allowing my wolf to take over. The transformation comes easily after the last two years of doing it regularly.
My last thought before I give over to my wolf entirely is understanding. I finally understand why my father chose to stay in his wolf form.