Rejected Mate's New Start

The burn on my hand throbbed as I sat on the edge of my narrow bed, staring at the phone I'd kept hidden in my dresser drawer for ten years. The device felt foreign in my trembling fingers—a lifeline I'd been too afraid to use, too ashamed to reach for.

But Camden's words echoed in my mind: *Know your place.* Elisabeth's scalding coffee had done more than burn my skin—it had scorched away the last of my illusions.

I dialed the number I'd memorized but never dared to use. My heart hammered against my ribs as the video call connected, and suddenly there she was—my mother, Victoria Crawford, older now with silver threading through her dark hair, but unmistakably the woman who'd raised me.

"Riley?" Her voice broke on my name, and I watched tears spring to her eyes. "Oh, my baby girl, is it really you?"

My throat closed up completely. I couldn't speak—couldn't even try. Instead, I lifted my hands and began to sign, the movements rusty from disuse but muscle memory taking over.

*I'm sorry,* I signed, tears streaming down my face. *I'm so sorry I left.*

"Don't you dare apologize," Mom said fiercely, leaning closer to the screen. "We never stopped looking for you. We never stopped hoping. Your room is exactly as you left it, sweetheart. We knew you'd come home when you were ready."

*I can't speak anymore,* I signed, shame burning hotter than Elisabeth's coffee. *Something happened, and I lost my voice.*

"Then we'll talk like this," she said simply, her own hands moving in the sign language she'd learned when I was small. "Whatever happened, whatever you've been through, it doesn't matter. You're still our daughter. You're still pack."

I sobbed then, ten years of isolation and pain pouring out through my fingertips as I told her everything—about the trauma that had stolen my voice, about Camden and his cruel dismissal, about Elisabeth's cruelty and Soleil's tears. Mom listened to every word, her expression growing fiercer with each revelation.

*I want to come home,* I finally signed. *But I can't leave Soleil. She needs someone to protect her.*

"Then we'll figure it out together," Mom said. "But Riley, you can't save everyone by sacrificing yourself. You deserve better than scraps of affection from a man who won't even acknowledge what you are to him."

The call lasted three hours. When it ended, I felt hollow but strangely lighter, as if sharing my burden had made it bearable. For the first time in a decade, I wasn't completely alone.

The next morning, Camden left for his Alpha conference, kissing Elisabeth goodbye with perfunctory politeness before barely glancing in my direction. The moment his car disappeared down the drive, I felt the atmosphere in the pack house shift like a storm front moving in.

Elisabeth wasted no time establishing her dominance.

"Pack inspection in one hour," she announced, her Luna aura pressing against every omega in the house. "I expect perfection."

She toured the mansion like a general reviewing troops, finding fault with everything—dust on picture frames I'd cleaned yesterday, water spots on mirrors that gleamed, wrinkles in sheets I'd pressed until my arms ached. Each criticism came with a pulse of her aura, forcing my wolf-less body into submission until my knees shook.

"Clearly, standards have slipped in my absence," Elisabeth said, her voice carrying to the other staff members who watched with uncomfortable expressions. "Perhaps our mute omega needs a reminder of what real work looks like."

She handed me a list of tasks that would take three people a full day to complete. Clean the entire three-story mansion from top to bottom. Polish every piece of silver. Scrub the kitchen until it sparkled. All to be finished before Soleil's bedtime.

"I trust you won't disappoint me," Elisabeth said, her smile sharp as a blade.

I took the list without protest, but something had changed. The phone call with my mother had reminded me who I used to be—who I could be again. I wasn't just a useful omega anymore. I was Riley Crawford of Silverfang Pack, and I had people who loved me waiting for my return.

The work was brutal. My hands, already tender from the burn, cracked and bled from the harsh cleaning chemicals. My back screamed from hours of scrubbing floors on my hands and knees. But I endured, counting down the hours until Camden's return, when surely this nightmare would ease.

Except it didn't.

Camden came home to Elisabeth's carefully orchestrated performance—the perfect Luna welcoming her Alpha home to their pristine domain. She didn't mention the impossible tasks she'd assigned me, the way she'd used her aura to force submission, or how she'd denied me meals for "inefficiency."

Instead, she smiled sweetly and suggested I might be more comfortable in the basement servant quarters.

"For efficiency," she explained to Camden, who nodded absently while reviewing pack business on his phone. "The help shouldn't be cluttering up the main floors."

That night, I lay on a thin mattress in the cold basement, staring at the concrete ceiling. Upstairs, I could hear Soleil crying—soft, heartbroken sounds that made my chest ache. But when I tried to go to her, Elisabeth's voice stopped me cold.

"The nanny is off duty," she called down the stairs, her tone saccharine. "Soleil needs to learn that omegas come and go. Best not to get too attached."

In the darkness, I pressed my hand to my throat and felt my voice stirring—not the broken whisper I'd become, but something stronger. Something that refused to be silenced much longer.