Fated To The Rogue Alpha: Awakening Of The Rejected Tribrid

Camille Wincing as she pulled the scarf over her head and tying the knot securely beneath her chin, Camille deliberately averted her gaze from the mirror, unwilling to confront the brutal reality of her reflection after the fall— all thanks to Alpha Loeka. She would need to visit a healer soon because of the wounds. Exhaling sharply, Camille dropped the small blue box onto the bed. She started with the sturdy dresser. "Oh, Camille, my dear," Rosalind’s shrill, high-pitched voice broke from behind as she made her way into the room, arms outstretched for a hug. "Don't you dare touch me!" Camille snapped, the anger in her voice was unmistakable. She continued packing, not bothering to turn and face Rosalind. Rosalind Loeka stood there, visibly stunned. Her lips tilted, slowly, a small smile dancing on her lips. As if gathering her courage, she quickened her pace, dropping on the bed, "Oh, goodness, you poor thing! You're hurt, but shouldn’t you know better than to have questioned your father's decisions?” "Oh please, stop the act mother" Camille fired, "We both know you don't care, so don't try to act like you do" The cruel smile on Rosalind's face disappeared. "I'm trying to...be nice" "Enough with your being nice!" Camille yelled, "That's no way to speak to your mother, young lady!" Rosalind's rebuke sounded weak and feeble. “Yeah, right. You know what? I have nothing more to say, so leave. I have some packing to finish." Rosalind didn't move. "There are rules, and all you have to do is follow them. But you always choose to..." "Rules? What rules, mother? Tell me!" Camille snapped, her eyes burning with hot tears that stung at the corners as she turned to face Rosalind, “That’s your problem. You’re always moving too fast. . .” "Am I? Or am I simply trying not to be like the weakling you are!" Rosalind grimaced, "you damn. . ." she stopped herself before those words spilled out "Say it!" Camille demanded, brushing off a tear. Rosalind stood from the bed, arms crossed. "Where are these rules when it’s about the boys? Do they only exist when it’s about me?” Camille shook Rosalind's shoulder "Where was this rule when Devon failed the Council’s requirements for the alpha heirs? Yet father bought his way into the academy? And even now, where is this rule to hold Conrad responsible for killing a member of the pack two nights ago? But I'm the one who has to be sold out." “Where were the rules, mother?" Camille flared, biting her lower lip to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. "You... you don’t understand. You can’t expect the same things because…” Rosalind stuttered miserably. "I’m a girl," Camille finished the sentence for her, tears streaming down her face. "That’s what you were going to say, right?" Rosalind said nothing. Her silence betrayed her. "And what if I expect the same things as they do? What’s wrong with that, mother?! Why is it so terrible for a daughter to expect the same things as the sons in a home? Tell me!" Rosalind didn't tell her. She wouldn't tell her—at least not yet. It wasn't time for her to know. “Camille, this is different,” Rosalind said, turning her back. “You can’t understand it.” “Then make me understand! Make all of this make sense,” Camille pleaded, gripping Rosalind's arms tightly, hoping, praying this could be her chance to set things right between them. For as long as Camille could remember, she had never had a good relationship with Rosalind. They were always at odds, considering how she favored the boys over her. “Oh, I do, my love,” Rosalind replied softly, reaching her hands towards Camille. “Then fight for me. Let father know I need to go to the academy.” Camille pulled her hands away from Rosalind's face, clutching them tightly, hoping; hoping Rosalind would see it. She could see her. “It’s not the same, and I don’t know how to make you understand it, Camille,” Rosalind pulled away as if she had suddenly seen a ghost. A brief moment of silence followed. Dabbing tears from her face, “Your marriage to Alpha Sigewuf is final. Your father has decided, and it’s in your best interest.” And there it was—dead hopes. Another precious dream shattered. Camille's hand slipped from Rosalind's, like dead leaves falling from a tree during autumn. She had hoped Rosalind would fix this. Fix them. But that hope was never going to come true. Without another word, Camille turned toward the box on the bed, tossed what she had left into it. The goddess saw all the mothers in the world and gave her this piece of shit for a mother! Camille thought. Her life must have really been pathetic if there was a past one. Standing at the door, her back to Rosalind, "You'll regret thi. And when you'll come begging, it'll be my turn." She left the room without another word to Rosalind, leaving her to grapple with her dead conscience—considering she had any. No words. No hugs. No goodbyes. No bonds. Just shattered hopes. ************ Two guards appeared immediately as she stepped through the grand doors of the mansion. One took the box from her hands, while the other led her to one of the sleek cars lined up in front of the estate. Tires screeched as each vehicle sped away from the mansion, leaving behind what had once been her entire dream and now, a painful past.