Rejected by My Alpha's Cruelty

I set down my luggage and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My features were delicate, pleasant even, but when my lips curved into a smile, it felt like a mask slipping into place. There was a weariness in my eyes that I couldn’t hide. I forced a bitter smile; I hardly looked like an Omega in her late twenties. Just a little longer, and I’d finally be free.

I was lying in bed, nearly asleep, when the door burst open. Alpha Rhys stood there, panic etched across his face. “Adelaide, come with me! We need to take Bailee to the hospital; she burned her hand!”

I instinctively frowned, ready to refuse, but Alpha Rhys had already grabbed my arm, pulling me along. His grip was firm, his Alpha aura pressing down on me, making it hard to resist.

“Alpha Rhys, there’s really no need for Adelaide to take me to the hospital. It’s just a little... ouch...” Bailee winced, clutching her hand where a few drops of hot olive oil had splattered. It looked painful, but not life-threatening.

“Burns can be serious; they might leave a scar,” Alpha Rhys said urgently. As I watched the scene unfold, my mind drifted to the scar on the back of my left hand.

That day, when Alpha Rhys had invited some pack members over for a barbecue, Bailee had deliberately spilled a whole pot of boiling sauce on my hand. When I confronted her, Alpha Rhys had stepped in, shielding her, his eyes cold as he said, “Bailee didn’t do it on purpose, and you’re fine, so stop making a fuss.”

I’d numbed the pain with painkillers before taking myself to the hospital, leaving a scar that still lingered.

Now, watching Alpha Rhys’s concern for Bailee, I realized he actually knew burns could leave scars. It only mattered because, this time, it wasn’t me who’d been hurt.

On the way to the hospital, we hit rush hour. Alpha Rhys kept urging me to drive faster from the back seat. As the light turned green and I accelerated, a runaway sedan careened toward us. The collision was sudden, and I felt a crushing pain in my lower body.

“Adelaide! How do you feel? Hang in there; the ambulance is on its way!” Alpha Rhys’s voice was tense, but it came from the back seat, where he was unharmed.

“Adelaide...” he began again, but Bailee’s cries of pain distracted him.

“Bailee, where are you hurt? What hurts?” he asked, his concern sharp.

“I’m just sore in my hand; you don’t need to worry about me, really. Adelaide seems seriously hurt; you should check on her,” Bailee said weakly.

Alpha Rhys’s worry only deepened at her words. He asked Bailee to hold on a little longer, reassuring her the ambulance would be there soon.

When the ambulance arrived, Alpha Rhys pulled the medical personnel over, insisting, “There’s someone hurt here! You have to check on them!”

The urgency in his voice suggested a severe case, prompting one doctor to follow him. Shortly after, I heard the doctor reprimanding him, “You’re wasting our time! This person is fine!”

Alpha Rhys, usually so concerned about his image, started causing a scene at the crash site, threatening to report the doctor for neglect.

Reluctantly, the doctor bandaged Bailee’s hand. As Alpha Rhys intended to take her to the hospital, he passed by me, just rescued moments before. Upon seeing the wounds on my legs, he froze, a flicker of genuine panic crossing his face for the first time. “Adelaide, are you in pain? I’ll find the best doctor for you right away!”

Bailee then spoke softly, “I’m sorry, Adelaide. It’s my fault; I shouldn’t have asked Alpha Rhys to take me to the hospital. I should have endured the pain, then none of this would have happened.”

Her pitiful look only deepened Alpha Rhys’s concern for her, and he quickly turned back to comfort her, leaving my injuries forgotten.

When the medical staff asked if I had any family, I calmly closed my eyes and replied that I didn’t. “Let’s go.”