The Perfect Rejection

I knew the 'worst day of your life' was supposed to be relative, but, what would you call it when every single day seemed to be the worst day of your life? 

Normal, I guess.

His slap left a harsh sting across my cheek. I fell back hard onto my tailbone, pressing my hand to my face to relieve some of the burning. My eyes were watering but I blinked back the tears. He hated it when I cried.

"I apologize Gamma, it won't happen again," I gritted out, locking my eyes onto his shoes. My head was bowed so low that my neck was starting to ache.

"I know it won't," he sneered.

He grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me upward. I cried out at the pain that shot through my scalp; my hands grappled with his to relieve some of the pressure but he was moving too fast. I struggled to stay standing as he dragged me through the hallway of the pack house. Tears ran down my face as I put pressure on my foot—there was no way it wasn't broken at this point.

My eyes flew wide when we approached a heavy silver door with two massive men guarding it. I started to shake my head but it did nothing to stop my Gamma from shoving me to my knees.

One of the guards forced my hands behind my back and I screamed as silver cuffs were locked around my wrists. The metal burned through the skin and I felt hot blood trickling down to my fingers.

The guard pushed me through the door and I started down the stone steps, my shoulders shaking with each sob that escaped my lips. I couldn't hold them back anymore. He shoved me again as we neared the bottom and I ended up tripping over my broken foot.

My shriek was abruptly cut off when my face smashed into the cold stone floor. My sharp canines ripped through my lip and I bit down hard on my tongue.

The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth; I gagged when it started to run down my throat. My shoulders nearly popped out of their sockets when the guard pulled me back onto my feet.

My legs immediately collapsed underneath me so he locked his arm around my waist and carried me. I caught sight of bloody bodies in the cells as my own was hauled through the prison.

The reek of rogues hit me like a wave and my nose wrinkled in disgust, a shudder running down my spine. It was the pack prison, where all the traitors, criminals, and rogues stayed until their inevitable executions. They were never set free, but my alpha thought it was entertaining to give them hope.

I was taken to the very back of the prison before being dropped roughly into the silver-barred cell. A sickening crack echoed through the room as my head hit the concrete floor and everything started to fade. I vaguely heard my cell door slam close through the ringing in my ears. I tried to open my eyes but all I could see were black and white spots.

***

"Wake up you fugly mutt!" a familiar voice growled.

My eyes snapped open just as their foot connected with my abdomen. My body curled around it and I gasped at the force of the hit. I would have puked if there was anything in my stomach.

The world spun as I was forced to my feet. I swayed violently and tried to catch myself but only succeeded in burning my wrists even more. I gritted my teeth as my bare knees hit the rough stone floor.

"Get up, we have school in thirty minutes and you have to bring us breakfast," he muttered and I nodded.

I took a deep breath before slowly rising to my feet. I nearly passed out from the effort it took to do so without my hands. My head was pounding and waves of pain rolled through my body.

I stumbled out of my cell and to the stairs before a grimace crossed my face. I clenched my jaw and tried to ignore the agony crawling through me; every few steps, I paused to lean on the wall. At the top, one of the guards took off the silver cuffs and instantly the fog surrounding my mind began to clear.

I touched my wrists as gently as I could but even the lightest pressure made it sting. Bloody blisters covered my skin and my arms were stained brown with dried blood.

A sharp yelp escaped my lips when hands shoved me forward and I nearly fell onto my face again. "Move!" He snapped in annoyance.

I let out a slow breath before limping down the hall. Ignoring the dirty looks everyone shot me as I passed, I continued stumbling through the pack house. I managed to make it to the kitchen without falling and muttered a few curse words when he left.

I quickly took the food from the cooks out to the dining room. The six teenagers ate the food obnoxiously fast, deliberately making a mess. They made sure nothing was left though, nothing I could eat anyway. My stomach growled as I gathered up their plates and brought them back into the kitchen.

I looked for any sign of Tanya but she was nowhere to be seen. Damn it, I thought, my heart dropping. Tanya was the only one that took pity on me, when she was working she would sneak me food, but I hadn't seen her in a couple of days.

I left the kitchen with a heavy sigh of defeat. Just as I started up the stairs though, fingers gripped my arm tightly. I winced as his nails dug into my skin and his vice-grip sent a painful tingling down to my fingertips.

"Remember what happens if you're late again." There wasn't even a hint of warmth in his tone.

I nodded and he shoved me away from him with a hard push. Love you too big brother.

I snuck a glance at my arm and my shoulders fell in defeat, his fingers were definitely going to leave bruises. I hurried up the stairs, using the railing to stay off my injured foot. Over the last few weeks, the pain had started to dull. Half the time it felt more like a dead weight than an appendage. Not concerning at all. 

I stumbled into my bedroom—well, closet was more fitting—at the back of the house. I eased off my bloody shorts and T-shirt and quickly looked at the time.

7:40. "Fuck," I growled. School started in twenty minutes and it was almost a mile away on foot.

I grabbed the bandages out of my first aid kit and wrapped them around my wrists as tight as I could without losing feeling in my fingers. I carefully slipped on a pair of baggy sweatpants and an old sweatshirt then shoved another roll of bandages in my backpack.

I slid my feet into a pair of dirty boots and snatched my backpack before rushing out of the pack house. I paused just inside the forest.

I had only shifted once in my entire life. Not shifting normally made your wolf dangerous and uncontrollable, but mine just went ghost. Sometimes I wondered if I ever actually had a wolf or if maybe I imagined the whole thing.

I shook my head with a growl of frustration. Yeah, not happening today.

Using a couple sticks and my bandages, I immobilized my ankle and hobbled a little faster through the forest. My entire body ached and throbbed with each step but I managed to get to the school.

There were a few people wandering around, so I had only a couple minutes before the bell rings. I tore off the makeshift splint and limped the rest of the way, arriving seconds before the bell. I staggered to the back of the room, as far away from my pack members as possible.

I got a quick glance and smirk from my brother. He knew how close I was to being late. He was only two years older than me at 20, but his size made him look way older. Having to deal with him in class was the only reason I wished he was smarter, the dumbass kept getting held back.

I got the worst treatment from him; he blamed me for the death of our parents and constantly reminded me of it. I had always thought big brothers were supposed to be supportive, but then again, I also thought that I would have escaped from here by now. Maybe I'm the dumbass.

I waited for the bell to ring before making my way to my next class. I sat at the back of the room again, staring down at the desk.

The school was for werewolves only so nobody bothered me. Nobody tried to help either. I smelled like rogues with the faint hint of a pack—the scent of an omega, so they distanced themselves as much as possible. To be fair, I treated omegas the same way when I was young.

The teachers were wolves too, and they cared even less than the students. I swore some of them even encouraged the students to treat me like dirt. I sighed, fishing some pain meds I stole out of my backpack.

I suppose that's what I get for killing the last Alpha and his mate.