A Reject She-Wolf

THIS STORY IS MY CREATION! ANY COPYING OR PLAGIARISM OF MY STORIES WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED IN ANY FORM OR FASHION. I OWN THE COPYWRITING OF THIS STORY!

“Get your ass out of bed, reject. You have ten minutes to get downstairs for breakfast,” my father’s voice comes through the door as it is slung open, hitting the wall.

Blinking my eyes open slowly, they see his back retreating from the room. Sitting up, looking at the twin-size bed my body is lying on. The faded pink comforter and the faded sheets are the same ones I have used since my fifth birthday. That was the year my loving family went downhill; their love for me was never shown again.

Pulling my legs up while pushing the covers down, my feet hit the cold floor, making my body shiver. I have lived in the smallest room of our house for so many years that it no longer bothers me, along with the mental abuse my parents have been doing since that news was told that I was their only pup. They no longer allow me to eat with them at the dinner table, go on trips, or be seen in public. They tell everyone the moon goddess did not grant them a child; all they had was a reject. Padding into the bathroom quietly, I do my business without any sound to disturb my parents. Opening my minimal closet, my fingers skim over the threadbare dresses. Picking up a bright yellow one Myra bought me a few weeks ago on a shopping trip, my fingers gently take it off the hanger. I tried not to show her how much the dress made me smile as we tried on clothes while she got a new wardrobe. She snatched it out of my hand as I tried to put it back multiple times, telling her I could not afford to buy it. She knows how badly my parents treat me, not giving me any money to do anything.

She protested against my pleas not to get it saying it was nothing to her father’s banking account. Since sixth grade, we have been friends when she saved me from a group of girls who were kicking me hard in the corner of the gym—looking down at my arms which are still black and blue from the attack yesterday by a group of teenagers who cornered me after lunch jumping me. A teacher finally came around the corner, making the students scurry off where he did not catch them. I was questioned for hours as they tried to get the names out of me, but I refused to say a word knowing that things would only worsen if I did.

Slipping on the dress, my hands find a white pair of worn-out flats, slipping them on my feet. One afternoon, I found these in the trash while walking home from school about three years ago. When I passed, a family was moving to another pack, and I saw them sitting on the top of the can. They were brought to my room and put on my closet floor after tucking them into my panties and flatting them against my stomach. My parents would have accused me of stealing, making me return them, while they assaulted me with harsh words about how they hated me and wished the moon goddess would take me away from them.

Their words have fallen on deaf ears since this has been happening when I turned five. No matter how ugly they talk about me, my heart does not register anything they say as their words try to make tears roll down my face as they used to when I was younger. My parents would laugh in my face as I cried when they said horrible things about their reject daughter. Walking down the steps slowly, not making any noise, my body works its way into the kitchen. A slice of dry bread and some old fruit are on the plate; a silent sigh comes from my mouth.

I would give anything to have a family as Myra has; her parents are kind and loving toward all their pups. Each has a card linked to their father’s account to use when they want, buying anything their heart desires. Stuffing the last of the bread into my mouth, my feet shuffle to the sink washing the faded orange plate that is the only thing I am allowed to eat my meals with. Quietly, my hands turn the water on as I wash the plate putting it on the plate holder in the corner where it must be placed after use. At the house, it is like I am a zombie in a way where my body does everything my parents have drilled into my head for years; the proper method for someone like me has to do around here. The sheets on my bed and the comforter were the last things my parents bought for me. I am surprised that both are not worn out with holes in them with their age. Grabbing my backpack off the floor, I brought it down from my room with me; I exited the house making sure the soft click of the latch was all they heard. Myra pulls up in her silver Land Rover, waving at me as she does daily. My parents had not taken me to get my license when I turned fifteen like all the other teenagers. I am the only senior with no car or driver’s license, but I keep trudging through life as the outcast I am.

“How does it feel to be seventeen?” her chipper voice says as I shut the door.

Shrugging a shoulder, “I don’t know. My parents didn’t wish me a happy birthday or even act like I was here. Before I left, they were talking in his office about how they hoped I find my mate today so they could be rid of their problem.”

Her smile falls. “I don’t understand how they can mistreat you, and I think they don’t deserve a kind, caring person like yourself.”

Letting out a harsh laugh, “You know as well as I do they don’t care for me. I was not the son they wanted so badly, and my exitance is not anything they take pride in. They want me to be mated off to anyone, even if it is a lowlife Omega, so they don’t have to look at me anymore.”

Her eyes show the sadness I hate to see in them. “Anyway, we are going shopping after class today. You remember my parents are throwing me that birthday party tomorrow afternoon, so we must get new dresses.”

Letting out a low groan, “Myra, you know I don’t have any money for that. I will go with you, but I will not be getting anything. That pink dress you bought me a few months ago will be good enough to wear.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she drives. “You know damn well that dress is not up to par for my party. I will get you one like we always do.”

Shaking my head slowly, “You don’t understand; I don’t want you to keep buying me things; until I am mated, there is no way I will ever have the money to pay you back.”

My shoulder stings from the hit she just landed on it, making me jump because of the bruise she hit. “Sorry, oh god. I am so sorry.”

Rubbing my arm slowly, “Don’t worry about it. I don’t heal as fast now since my wolf has retreated, and I don’t have a good connection with her anymore.”

She growls, “Your parents should be banished from our pack once your mate is found. They have you in this mode where your wolf has not appeared in years. Hell, I have never seen her myself.”

Chuckling at the statement, “She is not much to look at. Not like any wolf I have ever seen, which might be another reason my parents have turned against me. She is not a normal-looking wolf.”

She clicks her tongue. “I still want to see her one day. I bet she is a beauty.”

Shifting my eyes back to the road, I feel her stir a little before returning to her slumber. She does not get up much, but Myra has warned me that if I don’t let her out, it can cause problems in the future. The last time I remember shifting was around fifteen to go on a run. I was upset about a dress I wanted for a party, but my parents would not buy it. She was so mad at my parents, who were screaming in my face, which made me leave the house going outside for a run. I regained control over her rage, shifting back to my human form. She fussed at me about not standing up, but I made her submit to me, ensuring she knew I was in charge. Once that happened, she stayed in this slumber state, not wanting to do much of anything. She would growl at something but never rushed to the front again to protect me or try to change. It was hard as hell to get her to submit with her fiery attitude, but finally, she did. There is something that has her on edge today as she has been up more than usual, pacing before laying back down. There have been times that I have missed talking to her. When I tried, she would open one eye and roll it at me before closing it back. I finally gave up on her ignoring me, and I have not tried to talk with her in over a year. Today, she is stirring, making it a little irritating for me as she moves more and more the closer we get to school.

THIS BOOK HAS BEEN MOVED TO GALATEA AND CAN BE READ ON THE SISTER SITE OF THIS PLATFORM. THE CONTRACT DOESN'T ALLOW ME TO POST ANY MORE CHAPTERS.