Despicable by Rory Miles
BELLATRIX
My sister is in the middle of belting out her favorite line to a Riot Heart song, aiming and missing for the high note the lead singer hits, when my parents begin to slow down and turn on their blinker. I give her a look to say nice try and take the right turn onto a narrow, paved road lined by trees. I like to sing too, and she always tells me I should do it more, but I get nervous with her listening.
Fucking a stranger in a dirty office with an audience? No problem.
Singing in front of my family? Hell no.
Pack Ozark, the new pack my parents transferred to, is supposed to be better than the last one we were in. I don’t have high hopes, especially since my dad is an omega. Other wolves basically take his lack of dominance as a free pass to abuse and torture him. My mom is a delta, so she’s not much help when people start attacking him.
My sister and I are betas, but my sister doesn’t like fighting much. I, on the other hand, don’t mind a down and dirty brawl, especially when some asshole tries to kill my dad while he’s on his morning walk. Hence our relocation. The last alpha didn’t take kindly to me maiming his bitch-ass wolf. It was either move or eventually die, so we moved.
My Jeep’s engine is a soft purr as we travel between the trees at a snail’s pace. I tap my fingers to the beat of the song and shake my head at how slow they’re driving.
“You know how Mom likes to look at everything,” Bella says, the picture of patience.
“Yeah.” I sigh and settle in. The road extends far into the trees, taking us deep into the woods.
Typical of most wolf packs, Pack Ozark tucks itself away far enough from humanity they don’t have to worry about the dangers of living near humans. The closer we are to cities, the more the risk of exposure grows. Humans don’t know about us, and per High Pack orders, it should remain that way. Besides, no one wants a war of races. The humans may be weaker, but their weapons are insane.
The more we drive, the more my mind wanders and recalls random stories I've heard lately.
“Did I tell you about what Zane told me?” I shoot my sister a quick glance.
“No.” Bella pulls down the visor and checks over her hair and makeup. She’s really worried about her first impression.
I catch my reflection in the rearview mirror and grimace. I washed my face, but the eyeliner from last night lingers around the edges of my eyelids and my hair is in a messy bun. My shirt reads Fuck Off, I’m Reading and my ripped shorts and chucks scream I’m not here to impress you.
Grinning at myself, I move my gaze to the road and Dad’s taillights. They’re still driving ridiculously slow, but I force myself to be patient. This is for their benefit, not mine. Dad needs a fresh start. He needs security and safety.
“I guess some wolf almost exposed herself to humans. She literally ran through a crowded college town in her other form,” I say, resting my head back.
“Shut up.” Bella pauses mid-lip gloss and raises her eyebrows. “What happened?”
Shrugging, I continue, “Zane said she ended up being sent to an island after her mate rejected her.”
She sucks in a hard breath and caps her gloss. “Well, if she was rejected and feral, she needed to go.”
“I didn’t say she was feral.” I frown at how defensive I sound. What do I care?
“She almost exposed herself to humans… sounds pretty feral to me.”
Sucking in the side of my cheek, I say, “Rumor is she was attacked by a vampire or something.”
“And you believe the rumor? What did her alpha do?”
“Sent her to the islands.” I blow out a hard breath. “I don’t know, okay. Zane just told me about it.”
There are a dozen islands near upstate New York saved for rejected mates. The High Pack uses them as a prison for those who were turned away by their fated mates. The thing is, sometimes rejected mates go feral, and sometimes they don’t. I hate the idea of the islands, because why keep shifters there who aren’t feral? The whole concept seems cruel to me.
“Hm. Well, if he thought she needed to be sent there, we have to trust he did the right thing.”
I don’t tell her that sometimes alphas can be dicks because she hates when I talk like that. She doesn’t like when I rip her rose colored glasses off and smash them into the concrete. So I let her live in oblivion and worry my lip as I think about the shifter who may or may not have been attacked by a vampire.
If she was attacked by a vampire, we should all be worried because the last time an attack like that happened was a long time ago. Things have been relatively calm between the wolves and vampires, but all it takes is one brutal murder to change that.
“Holy shit,” I whisper when the giant house comes into view.
House isn’t the right word. The pack house is a log cabin mansion. Light wood, elegant railings, and at least three stories high. I knew Pack Ozark was well off, but I didn’t realize how well off. The wood is bright, probably freshly sealed for the weather, and the roof is a pretty dark color that offsets the lighter walls.
“Wow.” Bella whistles and leans forward, craning her neck to see the roof. “Do you think they’ll be safe here?”
I glance at her, noting the lines of concern wrinkling her eyes. “Anything is better than the last pack. Dad may be an omega, but he’s an expert at adapting. Besides, a good alpha will realize his worth.”
While he’s not a great fighter, Dad knows a lot about engineering and can build just about anything. He’s an asset.
Sitting back, she fidgets with the seat belt covering her chest. “I don’t think I can watch him get hurt for much longer.”
With a grimace, I throw the Jeep into park right behind where Dad parked and turn in my seat.
“I get it, more than you know, but we have to be careful now,” I say in a hushed tone.
The radio is still playing, but if I were to talk any louder, there’s no telling who might hear what we have to say, and I doubt the new alpha would take kindly to what my sister is implying.
“We’re here now. Dad knows what to do to stay safe. The rest is out of our hands. We can always move again.”
Her responding frown draws out my own.
“I hate moving.”
I nod. “So do I, but it’s not about us.” With those words, I slip my keys out of the ignition, cutting the music off and opening my door.
My feet land on the soft grass next to the driveway, and I close the door with one hand, not bothering to turn around. I’m too busy gaping at our new home. Trees rise up like a tapestry behind the log cabin, completing the woodsy vibe. Whoever built this place cleared the land immediately surrounding the home, because there’s a small playground for kids, a net for volleyball, a few grills, picnic tables, and a large covered parking area for pack members.
All signs point to good things. So long as everyone in the pack is kind, we could live here for the rest of our lives. Mom releases a soft sigh and rests her head on Dad’s shoulder. He loops his arm around her waist and there’s a moment of complete peace.
Then it shatters so completely I wonder if I imagined it all along.
The double doors crash open, dozens of feet stampede out of the house and race toward the playground. Screams of excitement flutter in the air, carrying the powerful and unadulterated joy you can only find in a child’s heart. A man walks out after them, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watches them run. His hair is a deep chestnut and side-swept, long enough to toe the line of maybe being man-bun worthy, but not quite that long. There is a bit of stubble covering his chin, like he forgot to shave this morning, and he’s at least six-feet tall. His power signature reads as an alpha, but he doesn’t have the enigmatic pull of a pack alpha.
Interesting. He must get along with the pack alpha because it isn’t typical for more than one to live within the same pack.
Bella chuckles and bumps my hip with hers. “Wow, the teachers here are hot.”
Her voice is low, but by design not quiet enough to escape his notice. The man standing at the top of the stairs snaps his gaze in our direction. Twin flames of amber lick over my sister before scorching me with their heat. Something in me threatens to break, like a board suspended between two pillars, stacked with weight upon weight until small fissures work through the wood, weakening it.
Another weight drops when his gaze clashes with mine, and I snap.
The weights crash to the ground, and every ounce of oxygen is dragged from my body with such force my shoulders curl forward.
His nostrils flare, and he takes two powerful steps down the stairs, not taking his eyes off of me for a second. Some invisible force begs me to race to him and jump into his arms, like this is some dramatic romance movie. I bite the inside of my lip and plant my feet, fighting the pull.
My wolf whimpers in my head, whispering things to me with her pitiful animal noises I can’t acknowledge. Things about love and eternity and destiny.
No. I won’t acknowledge what she’s trying to tell me because it’s insanity.
Bella gasps and grabs my arm when he growls low in his chest before prowling toward me like he wants to simultaneously rip my head off and kiss me stupid.
Cue stomach flop. My vision tunnels until all I can see are those irises. He stops a few feet away from me, and fresh pine wraps around me. Inviting and familiar. Tremors work through my body, and my wolf bays for this man inside of my head. She can’t speak with words, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what she wants. My wolf has been a steady presence in my mind, but the only time she really makes herself known is when I’m threatened. Only, I don’t feel that way now.
I feel something I shouldn’t feel at all according to statistics. An emotion and longing I’ve long since written off stirs inside of me.
“Mate.”
“Don’t,” I say when he steps forward and reaches for me.
His hand pauses in the air before he decides to ignore my request. He wraps his fingers around my hip and guides me toward him. Like a mind numb idiot, I allow him to manhandle me. I allow him to look down at me. I allow him to slowly lower his face to mine, letting him take a good look before I allow him to bury his nose in the crook of my neck.
He moans, and his stubble scrapes against my skin. I stand completely still, hands at my sides and fingers clenched into fists so tight my knuckles have turned white. Even though it makes zero sense, I’m desperate to touch him, but I know the thing driving me doesn’t give a damn about what’s logical because he’s my destiny.
No. No flipping way.
There’s no way this man is my fated, but the way my wolf howls in triumph tells me he is exactly that.
His grip turns bruising the longer his nose stays stuck against my skin, and a savage growl works its way out of his body. My heart skips a beat, and my wolf cowers, wondering what we’ve done to make him angry. The bond between fated mates is unmatched by any other type of relationship, so I’m not surprised to find I know he’s mad and that somehow, I’m the one who made him that way.
“You smell like a human.”
I gulp, hating the gravel and disgust coloring his tone.
Sexual relations with humans are generally frowned upon, but I know that’s not why he’s mad. Oh no. He’s mad because I’m not pure. Our society covets virginity, especially when it comes to finding your fated mate. The person the moon molded to fit you only deserves your most pure self. Since most fated mates find each other at a younger age, a lot of wolves don’t end up having sex and finding someone else to take as a mate—a nonmoon-blessed joining, but something that can be born out of love and respect.
That sort of bond never interested me. I wanted fate or I wanted nothing, and here fate is seconds away from savaging my throat if the way his teeth brush against my neck are any indication. There’s no explaining the way my stomach quivers or the way my eyes widen with panic.
He can’t be mad at me. I don’t want him to be. Stupid bond; it’s messing with me already. We’ve only been in each other’s presence for a few minutes and I want nothing more than to make him happy. To earn his approval.
My stomach churns, threatening to heave under his unwarranted anger. That reaction alone tells me perhaps my wolf is right. He is my fated.
He is my forever and he is my destiny.
My eyebrows pinch as I turn over the idea of being with someone so alive with rage. Is that really the future I want for myself?
His snarl intensifies when I don’t respond. “Why?”
Listen, I’ve never hidden who I was from the world, and I’m not about to start now. Fated mate be damned, I won’t lose myself to appease him. He growls again, grip tightening.
I swallow and say, “I was with someone last night.”
Wrong answer. The pads of his fingers hurt, but I press my lips together to hold back what I want to say because his body vibrates with anger. When his teeth actually clamp down on my skin, dull pain tugs at my muscles.
There goes my fantasy of a prince swooping in to save me and carry me off in a happily ever after ending. This is nothing like my childhood vision.
“You’re hurting me.” I calmly place my hands on his chest and shove.
He doesn’t budge, nor does he release his hold on me. Those teeth bite down harder. Sometimes the initial seizing of the bond can be primal, making a person forget their humanity and give in to their wolfish side. He wants to punish me for having sex, he’s pissed, and he doesn’t listen.
Even though it’ll make my wolf mad, I slam my knee between his legs, hitting him right in his jewels and shoving him back at the same time. His teeth drag across my skin before he stumbles back, clutching his junk and spearing me with a look of pure hatred.
“You’re not a virgin.”
Ah, the archaic desires of males and their pricks destroying my chance of happiness.
Moon forbid I enjoy myself.
I scoff and put my hand on my hip. “I’m twenty-seven. A bit old for a chastity belt, don’t you think?”
“Bellatrix!” My mother’s voice rises three octaves, shrill and terrified.
Wincing, I cast a glance at my parents. Bella’s wide eyes find mine over my dad’s shoulder. She must have run to them when she realized whatever was happening wasn’t good. Can’t say I blame her. Remembering we’re here for Dad and his safety, I soften my features and drop my gaze.
“I’m sorry, Mate.” Yeah. Nope. My words sound pissed off through clenched teeth. So much for being soft.
“You’re not my mate.” He surges forward, grabbing my arms and dragging me closer. “My mate would never whore herself out with a human.”
So, maybe there is another thing you need to know. I despise the word whore. I hate the word slut. I especially hate that a woman taking charge of her sex life and living as so many men do automatically places her in either of those categories. So when he says the word whore, my blood boils so hot it’s a miracle my body doesn’t combust where I stand.
Almost on instinct, I hock the biggest wad of saliva from the back of my throat and spit it in his rude ass face. The glob lands on his nose, but part of it hits his eye, and he pinches it shut, hissing out a sharp breath I can feel stabbing through me like he took a literal knife and gutted me.
Five minutes in and I already hate this fated bond. It’s not complete, not by a long shot, but by finding him and being near him, the beginnings of a life-altering connection have started to forge. Which is why I know he wants to punch me. If I didn’t see it in the way his lips curl back, I’d have felt it in the way his entire being goes preternaturally still. A predator preparing to eviscerate its prey. Gleaming, beady black eyes of a snake as it rears its head back, hissing and spitting venom before launching for the kill strike.
“Chad.”
Somehow the new voice pulls him out of his head, and he snaps his eyes open and glares over his shoulder at a man who looks exactly like him, only a bit older. A brother, maybe? Too young to be his father.
“She’s my fated,” Chad—side note: why the hell is my fated named Chad? Not fucking cool—snaps at the newcomer.
“Then why are you hurting her?” The man, who may as well be my rescuer at this point, hops off the porch and rushes toward us. “You need to let her go.” The soft command rolls over me. This is the alpha, but Chad is either strong enough to ignore his words or the bond is giving him the ability to ignore it.
“She’s not a virgin.” Chad’s words slice through the air, and his brother stumbles to a stop.
His gaze scans my body in a clinical way, and then he sniffs, repulsion lifting the side of his top lip as his eyes flash with an echo of his brother’s disgust. Recovering from his surprise, he walks toward us with purpose coloring his face bright red.
Clearing his throat, he grabs Chad’s wrist. “Let her go.”
“No, Garry,” Chad says.
Dropping my head back and letting out an exaggerated sigh, I ask the moon what I did to deserve this.
The weight of their stares burn into me, but I continue to look at the sky. There are a few clouds, but no sign of any magical fairy coming down to save me from whatever is happening.
“You know what you have to do.” Garry’s pointed and whispered words bring me back to reality with a hard slap.
Oh, hell no.
He wouldn’t dare.
I struggle to get out of Chad’s hold, but he squeezes me tighter, searing me with his scorching gaze which has turned from alluring to spiteful. Something shifts between us, and I know he’s preparing to break whatever has started, to ruin me for good and leave me broken.
A shell of the woman I used to be.
Rejected mates are pitiful beings, forlorn and pathetic. Sometimes they go crazy. Sometimes they grow feral. Which is why what he’s about to do has my breath quickening. Rejected mates get shunned to the islands, carted away to be kept like prisoners because the elders think we’ll be the reason shifters are exposed to the world.
No.
He can’t win. He can’t break me.
He can’t.
He can’t.
“I—”
“I reject you,” I say in a rush, beating him to the punch. “I don’t want you or your wolf. Now. Let. Me. Go.” When I shove away this time, he lets me go.
The growl he unleashes makes the frantic pitter-patter of my heart thud, growing heavier with every beat. Every instinct is telling me I’m right, but the stupid bond has me feeling a mess of emotions. My chest aches with how I’ve hurt him. My wolf wants to shift so she can rub against him to beg him for forgiveness, marking him with her scent. My eyes water when the words settle and rip through me like claws, taking what little is left of my heart and obliterating it in a harsh swipe.
I take a hard breath, clutching my chest. The bond had barely started. What would it feel like if it were fully settled? Thank god I don’t have to find out.
“Trix?” Bella whines.
My parents stay silent. I’m not mad at them because this is my trouble. Dad just got here, and I won’t taint him any more than I already have by calling for them to help.
I’ve already royally screwed this up. I seal my mouth shut and place a protective barrier over my heart in the form of my now bruised arms locking together.
Chad takes a step forward, snarling at me. “You can’t reject me, because I reject you.”
The words crash into me like a freight train, derailing my own sense of triumph as the two rejections war with one another. I’ve never seen a confrontation like this between fated mates, but I suspect, as with anything in the shifter world, the stronger the wolf, the more likely they are to prevail.
The beta in me is ready for a fight, but his alpha strength courses through me like a taser, lighting up my nerves with punishing pain and ensuring I’ll remember one thing. His words are stronger. His rejection is stronger. He wins.
He rejected me.