Awakening (2 book series)
Awakening – Rejected Mate Chapter 92

He has a wall up, and he keeps everyone outside his pack on the other side of it. I guess that's why he tries so hard to make his father proud, because he loves him, even if he's not worthy of being loved, and that's not Colton's fault, that's Juan's. Colton's flaw is trying to be this perfect Santo wolf, with a weight of responsibility on his shoulders that one day he will lead. He follows the rules, the laws, and the word of the Alpha without conflict, as he's meant to, and even puts all of that over his own desires. I guess a leader does have to be that way, ingrained greatness, where his heart can't always lead and it only further cements the fact that he'll be the best for his people one day, but for us, not so much.

I get back to my previous activity when smug smiley guard walks off, getting bored with my disinterest in him and go back to pacing the room and looking for any kind of tool, or helpful item to get out. It didn't last long and enforces the fact he's an omega and low in the scale of things. Used to being ignored and dismissed and quietly slinks off. Thankfully, as I have no mind space for asshats. I'm uptight, worn thin, and agitated about my current predicament, with so many warring emotions coming at me from my own mind. The cupboards are full of medical crap, bandages, and nothing even sharp or useful. It's practically an empty room and anything with real weight is bolted down into concrete floors with steel pins. There's nothing at all that could be of any real use, let alone as a weapon of sorts, and I end up throwing my cushions against the glass in frustration when my anger piques and I can't contain it anymore.

I have so many swirling emotions that I don't know what to do with. A vibrating energy pulsing through my core, and I'm mentally up and down and all over the place. One second, I want to cry and lie down and sob, then the next I'm angry, furious, boiling over, and want to slash Juan into a thousand, tiny, bloody pieces, for everything that brought me here, and my entire life since they went to war. Just when it feels like it reaches overwhelming levels and I can't breathe for the suffocating need to expel this hatred physically, in the next breath, I'm calm, and logical, and trying to plan a way out. I can't keep up and it's exhausting.

Time alone to think and let it sink in has done nothing except get me riled and upset, and yes, I've cried buckets. I sat in a huddle in the corner for a good twenty minutes and sobbed my heart out, while it felt like it was breaking all over again. Much like when I left Colton, and found myself alone without him, and no choice but to keep going. Soon as the doctor left it's all I could do... for me, my mother, my brother and father, my family, my pack. For the mate I can never have.

I cried until my nose ran, and I couldn't breathe, and I drenched the upper part of my gown, because I was still wearing it at that point and the cold wet spreading across my chest on thin fabric was strangely comforting. Mirroring how my soul felt and how it was seeping into every pore. I felt hopeless, and weak, and broken, and I have no idea how to get past that.

It was for Colton and Sierra too, for their pain, their loss, and this whole god damn mess. For the life I should have had, the family I should have still been with, and the mate I would have imprinted on in another life and been allowed to be with. It would have still been Colton, that's what the fates decided a long time ago, but I would never have had to leave him, and I would be with him now, safe in his arms and calmed by his touch. Guided by that wise part of him that always seems to have an idea about what's going on. Only it failed him when he needed that gift the most.

I miss him so much it kills me, even if I can't get past what he's done to our bond, and I'm still broken by him. It adds to my urgency in looking around for some kind of pointer in what to do. I shake myself and I remind myself that the girl I was, she's dead. Little Alora of the Whyte pack and Elren farm, peacefully living a carefree life. The war seen to my parent's unplanned leaving, and Juan saw they never came back. She died a long time ago, when her life was turned upside down, and it altered everything she knew. Her path disintegrated, and all those dreams and hopes, they fluttered away on the breeze.

That unwanted, rejected, feeble little no one, who imprinted on a boy ten years later, who stood in her place.... also, dead! She who couldn't be allowed to love her fated mate, because of what she was. She never really existed anyway. She was a lie that was fed to me and made me live under a mask of my own making, because I never knew the truth and this girl, this one right here. She's the Alora who's been holding her breath and waiting for me to replace her.

She's the daughter of a warrior. A daughter of a prophetic Queen, who was slain for her power. She's the heroine of a prophecy, and she's a god damn white wolf with red eyes, that makes her some kind of hybrid with gifts, a witch thought so powerful that she bound them until a time when she needed to get them back. A witch who sacrificed her life, and the sanity of her son to protect her. She's someone to be reckoned with, she needs to replace the way to bloom.

That doesn't sound like any kind of weak no one to me, not a reject, or unworthy of an alpha mate, and I need to own that shit. Everything I've done in my life for the past ten years has been overshadowed by a black cloud of shame and failure and believing I was never good enough, because they told me so. It's gone. Almost like someone lifted that lid and finally uncaged my soul. There's nothing over my head weighing me down now, and that little voice that second guessed it all. It's dead too. That was never my voice, it was theirs, out there in the world around the mountain. I am deaf to their sounds now.

This girl, she has a right to stand up and be counted as someone worthy, and the fates for whatever reason, led me here and I need to see it through. They knew me before I existed, and I was part of the plan. They know what I'm capable of and they set on my way to be sure I showed everyone else. If they got me this far then maybe they have a plan, and I should stop fighting and listen. Close my eyes and let the fates send me some kind of message through the cosmos and the air... because this is not how it ends.

The noise of the elevator interrupts my train of thought, a noise so perfectly on cue I blink and open my eyes and my head spins towards the source. Half expecting to Deacon strolling on in and making my day worse, if that was even possible, but it's the doctor, and he's pushing a cabinet on wheels with all manner of things sliding off the top as he dashes to Sierras room. Drawn to the wall to watch him, suspicious of his behavior. Forgetting my pep talk and all my internal boosting of confidence.

He seems different somehow. Wired maybe, a little erratic in his abrupt walking around and hurried movements. He drops a scattering of implements on the floor, the noise of cascading metal, and hard objects clattering and echoing in this large space as he abandons the cart outside Sierras door and swipes the panel to open it. He stops before entering, picks them up, and throws them back on top, scooping anymore he disturbs with his ungraceful and somewhat rushed movements, and then rushes into her room and starts frantically pressing buttons on machines by her head.

I can't do much else but watch, and as he starts picking up small mobile devices and sitting them on her bed, his face ashen and serious and fully focused on what he is doing, I realize he's not just checking on her and something's up. His expression says it all, and there's no hint of gentle jovial eccentric doctor in this moment. He looks frayed and afraid.

Even from here I can see he's sweating, his forehead blushed and shiny and the underarms of his white jacket are beginning to darken with excessive body heat. He's in a state of panic, and I look around expecting his staff or the guards to come flooding down, suddenly worried about why. My own nerves hitching as my stomach ties itself in knots, and I end up flat to the window, palms pressed by the sides of me against the glass, heavily breathing as I watch, anchored to my spot.

Maybe Sierra is crashing... maybe all I was to do was witness her die. God no, please, Colton needs to see her one last time. She can't die.... he needs her!! I can't stand the thought of him losing her without saying goodbye. I need to know what I'm supposed to do

now.