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Rejected Mate's Scarlet Redemption Novel Cover

Rejected Mate's Scarlet Redemption

My mate, Alpha Boston Cruz of the Silver Fang Pack, was obsessively clean. In the three years of our bond, I was never able to get close to him; I couldn’t even hand him a paintbrush without wrapping it in paper first. Even then, he’d take it and meticulously sanitize it with disinfectant. If I accidentally touched his fingertips, he’d punish me by making me kneel naked in the sun, claiming it was to disinfect me and purify my filthy body. Things changed one day when I tripped over a paint bucket and fell into his arms. I was surprised when he didn’t make me kneel outside, and I naively thought he was finally willing to accept me. But the next day, my nude sketches were up for auction at an underground exhibition. Some wealthy rogues inquired about the price with obvious ill intentions. Alpha Boston stood expressionless, spraying alcohol over himself. "A filthy Omega, riddled with germs, dares to touch the clothes Beta Clare gave me?" he sneered, his Alpha tone cutting through the room like a whip.
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Chapter 3

The phone rang abruptly, and it was Alpha Boston Cruz. After reading the message, a smug grin spread across his face.

"Who said you could leave?" He seized my arm with a grip that could crush bone.

For three years, this was the first time he had willingly come near me, to touch me. I had fantasized about this moment countless times, imagining how thrilled I would be. To prepare for this, I scrubbed myself clean obsessively, taking showers five times a day, as if I could wash away the stench of his disdain. But when the moment finally came, all I felt was a wave of nausea.

I tried to shake off his grip, but his hold was unyielding, his Alpha aura pressing down on me like a weight.

"What are you trying to do?" I asked coolly, though my voice trembled slightly despite my efforts to keep it steady.

"Nothing much, just thought my dear mate had a rough day and deserves a little reward," he said, his tone dripping with mockery.

"No need! Just let me go back to my room and rest," I insisted, my voice firmer this time.

Ignoring my words, he tossed me into the bathtub and began pouring different kinds of soap all over me, his movements rough and careless.

"What exactly are you doing?" I demanded, my voice rising as I tried to shield myself from the onslaught.

He ignored my question, squeezing soap into my mouth whenever I tried to speak, his face twisted in disgust.

"Just cleaning out your bad breath. It’s turning my stomach," he sneered, his voice cold and cutting.

Afterward, he left the room, allowing several burly Deltas to come in and scrub me from head to toe, their hands rough and impersonal. I felt like a piece of meat being prepared for slaughter.

As the door clicked shut, I caught a glimpse of him furiously spraying himself with alcohol and cologne. "The smell is unbearable! It's making me sick!" he muttered under his breath, his words slicing through me like a knife.

When my skin was nearly rubbed raw, they finally let me out of the bathroom. Alpha Boston eyed my reddened skin with satisfaction, as if he had accomplished some great feat.

I reached for the clothes draped over the chair to put them on, but he stopped me, his hand closing around my wrist with bruising force.

"Let me take a few photos first," he said, his voice commanding, leaving no room for argument.

He draped strings of pearls over me, busying himself with his camera, his movements deliberate and calculated.

"I don’t want to take photos!" I protested, trying to shake off the jewelry, but his Alpha tone froze me in place.

"Why are you throwing a tantrum now?" he demanded, his voice sharp and cutting.

"Let me remind you, these jewels could buy your life!" he added, his smirk widening as if he enjoyed the power he held over me.

"You usually look so plain and dull, you don't even try to dress up for photos," he continued, his words laced with contempt.

I looked at the expensive pearls on me and felt that my life over the years had been utterly absurd. Alpha Boston always claimed to like simplicity, so my wardrobe consisted entirely of plain clothes, and I neither wore makeup nor adorned myself with any jewelry, all in an attempt to please him. Yet now my efforts were dismissed as plain and unworthy.

Amidst our argument, Beta Clare Jenkins pushed the door open and walked in, her presence like a dark cloud descending over the room.

She lightly touched the pearls on me and gave my cheek a pat, her touch cold and condescending.

"Selena, you’ve got such a great figure, no wonder you can't wait for the whole world to see you naked," she said, her voice sweet but her eyes glinting with malice.

"No wonder the Alpha would pay a million dollars for your private photos," she added, her words dripping with venom.

With that, she burst into laughter, her voice echoing off the walls, a cruel symphony that made my stomach churn.

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