Page 9 of The Alpha's Bullied Rejected Mate

“I had a good time,” he continued casually.

She couldn’t believe her ears.

Is this a nightmare?

“That is all it was to you? I gave myself to you!” she screamed.

“And I took it. Doesn’t mean I owe you anything, witch.”

That word. That sharp, cruel word he knew taunted her so much.

“Marcus!” she cried out. “Why are you acting so cruel? I thought you loved—”

“Love?” he interrupted and let out a dry laugh that cut straight into her heart.

“I’m Marcus Vale. Next in line to be Alpha. You really thought I’d fall in love with someone like you?”

“Look around you, Athena,” he continued. “This is a pack of werewolves. You’ll always be out of place. You’ll never belong here. You should leave. Your kind will never be welcomed here.”

She shook her head and reached out to hold him. “You don’t mean this. Marcus, I—”

He pulled away, but her fingers brushed against his wrist.

And the world stopped.

Her head jerked backward. The skies shifted above her. Her body stiffened as magic surged behind her eyes, dragging her into a trance.

Suddenly, she saw a small boy running across a field, sobbing. It was Moon Ridge. She could recognize those grounds anywhere. He was barefoot, bruised, and terrified. He darted into a thicket and collapsed behind a bush, wrapping his arms around himself and wailing into his knees.

She took a closer look at the boy. He had blonde hair and hazel eyes. Her heart shattered.

Is that my son?

She leaned in, trying to reach him—but this was a vision, not reality. And then she looked back to see what he had been running from.

Other boys. They were laughing and sneering.

“Half-breed!” one shouted.

“Witch-spawn!” another barked.

The boy curled tighter, covering his ears.

No.

Not her child.

Then she heard the boy scream. “Father. Father.”

She looked sideways and saw Marcus staring at the boy, but he didn’t move, despite the boy’s little cries.

Her heart ached.

Athena stumbled out of the vision, reeling. Her hand dropped to her sides hurriedly, like his had burned her.

She looked up into his face—and saw nothing. No warmth. No recognition. No remorse.

And it was in that moment she knew: telling him would change nothing. He would never protect their child. He never loved her. And her son would only suffer for her foolishness.