Rejected (Shadow Beast Shifters Book 1) -
Rejected: Chapter 8
At some point, I had accepted that there was no waking to another day.
I’d seen my last sunrise.
Eaten my last taco.
Sang my last song.
And while I had no regrets about running and attempting to have a better life, I was pissed as fuck about dying. I sure as hell didn’t deserve this fate, especially at the hands of the bastards who’d made my life hell in the first place.
Except it turned out death didn’t quite want me yet.
A splash of water smacked me in the face, followed by a slap across my aching cheek.
“Wake up, you stupid bitch,” a voice growled close by.
As more awareness filtered through me, pain made itself known. A groan escaped my lips, the sound small and pathetic.
“Should have left her for dead,” that same female grumbled. “Useless cunt is just lying in her own filth. Embarrassment to shifters.”
“Takes one to know one,” I murmured, words raspy and barely audible. My eyes still weren’t open, but I scented her moving closer.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
I forced my lips into a smile, even though my face felt like it was on fire. “I’ll talk slower. Takes… One… To… Know… One…”
At this point, I could barely remember what she’d said. She’d called me something… Useless…? Worthless?
“Did you just call me a cunt?” she snapped, and the pain in my side increased. At this point, I felt the nails digging into me from her half-shifted hands.
“Right,” I slurred. “I almost forgot. But yes, you’re a total cunty fuckhole, and I hope you get herpes and die of syphilis after your dick falls off.”
She roared so loud, it would have hurt my ears if I wasn’t already in so much pain that a little earache was nothing of concern. Her grip on me tightened, and another weak whimper left me.
“You’re going to wish that you died when you ran,” she murmured, sounding gleeful. “My job is to break you down until you are begging for death, and then, Victor is going to take over.”
Now I knew who this was: Glendra, the alpha’s mate. Torin’s mom, or as I liked to call her, the pack whore.
She was a nasty shifter I’d hated for years. She’d hung around my father like a bad smell way too many times for me to think she was anything other than someone who craved the attention of powerful men. She needed the gratification, and despite having a true mate, she could never seem to stop her wandering eye. And part of me still wondered if she wasn’t half the reason my father had attacked the alpha. Wouldn’t put it past a bitch like her to deliberately orchestrate drama that ended in murder.
Despite my pain and fatigue, I called on my wolf, and she rose within me like the perfect spirit goddess she was. The Shadow Beast was our god, more devil than angel, and I’d need his resilient strength to get through this.
Darkness was going to be my calling, and I allowed it to fill me so I could best this wolf.
Slamming my head forward, I cracked her in the face, knocking her scrawny ass off me. I followed this with a two-footed kick that sent her shooting away. Her screech was cut off by a heavy thud. She’d definitely hit something hard. My eyes were open enough at this point to see her sprawled back, unmoving.
And I knew exactly where we were: in the torture chambers below the main pack house. This is where my mother and I had been taken when Dad had attacked Victor. It was here we’d been subjected to “questioning” until everyone had been satisfied that we’d had no idea what my dad had been planning. Fat lot of difference that made anyway; we were still treated like fucking lepers.
But at least I knew my way around here from that time. Silver lining?
Glendra had left the door to my cell open, and I took the opportunity to get the hell out of there. Sprinting as best I could, I welcomed the surge of adrenaline, knowing it might be all that got me through. Taking the stairs as fast as possible, I fought the nausea and head spins. There was no time to succumb to my injuries; I had to get to safety first.
From below, I heard the first sound of a howl. Glendra was calling the other wolves. Hopefully, I’d be faster than them…
When I reached the first-floor landing, I took the less-traveled path toward an exit I often used to slip away. It was off to the side of the smaller kitchen, and to my knowledge, very few knew about it. The best part of this exit was its close proximity to the forest.
More howls joined Glendra’s, the sound and scent of wolves all around, but I tunneled my vision and didn’t look back. For some reason, I hadn’t died from Jaxson’s attack, and I was not wasting this second chance.
When I burst out of the unlocked back door, the last slivers of moonlight bathed across me, and my wolf howled in my chest. It was early morning on the eve of the full moon, and that was the best news I could have gotten. Not only was it energizing to my wolf, the rest of the pack would have been sleeping as they rested up for the solstice change tomorrow.
This gave me a few extra minutes, and sometimes that was all a shifter needed.
Sprinting across the icy lawn, I ignored the sharp bite of air across my bare skin. My clothes were torn and tattered, but thankfully, the same ones I’d been wearing when I’d been attacked… almost a week ago. If the moon was any indication. Damn. Had I actually been recovering for that long?
Howls rang out back at the pack house, followed by the distinct sound of wolves shifting in the early morning air. I picked up speed, my feet barely touching the ground as my wolf lingered closer to the surface than I’d ever felt before, lending me her strength, speed, and senses.
When I reached the forest, my wolf’s excitement increased. We liked being surrounded by nature like this, and it would help to obscure our trail. They’d still track my scent, of course, but in here there were ways to slow them down.
Ducking and dodging, I almost lost my balance as the occasional bout of dizziness hit me, but I held my shit together long enough to reach the wide creek. Without hesitation, I dove into the water.
Gah. It was so cold. The sort of cold that felt like I’d been struck with a taser, shocking my system to life. The sort of cold that drained your life and energy if you let it.
But I wasn’t ready to die today.
Kicking hard, I swam to the surface, gasping for air as my head popped up. Wolves, as a general rule, were not amazing swimmers. The density of our beast was a magic that transferred to our human forms, but I had always loved to swim.
I also loved that it masked my scent, and very few had the capabilities to follow me in the stream. Pushing through the numbing sensations in my limbs, I started to swim, staying below the surface as much as possible. No real predators lived in these fresh waters, so all I had to keep an eye out for was debris and the pack.
At one point, the rapids pushed me along and I took a few moments to relax and regain some energy. Just up ahead, there was a bend in the bank, and it was here I planned on crawling out.
I had clearly underestimated how hurt I was, though, because when I attempted to grasp on to the edge of the bank, there just wasn’t enough strength in my grip to beat the incessant pull of the undertow.
My fight wasn’t completely gone, but no matter how hard I struggled, I kept losing traction.
Then my fingers went limp as the current finally tore me from the bank.
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