Rachel’s POV
"Don't dare think that if you pretend to be pitiful like this, I will keep you and let you be my stepmother! If you can leave, never come back!"
Ivan’s words cut through the night like a dagger, each syllable echoing with venom and finality. I barely had time to react before the sharp arrow, carrying the young Alpha’s resentment, shot straight at me. My instincts screamed, but I was too slow—pain exploded in my shoulder as the silver-tipped arrow grazed my skin. A choked scream tore from my lips as I staggered backward, the stench of my blood thick in the air, sharp and metallic.
Michael was beside me in an instant. “Rachel!” His voice held panic, but I could barely focus on him through the dizziness and the throbbing ache that spread down my arm, threatening to pull me into unconsciousness.
A sharp cry cut through the tension.
“Papa! Aunty Susan fell while rushing to help that witch!” Ivan’s voice rang out, high-pitched and laced with malice.
Michael turned, conflicted. His gaze darted between me and Susan, who lay dramatically on the ground, clutching her ankle like a damsel in distress. I could see the glint of triumph in her eyes, even through the fake tears she tried to summon.
“It’s a clean injury, Rachel. Go to the healer, I’ll meet you there,” Michael said quickly. “Susan, she needs help now.”
Disappointment clenched my heart like a vice, but I didn’t show it. I just stood there, blood dripping from my wound, watching Michael lift Susan into his arms as she let out a pitiful whimper. Ivan followed close behind, sparing me one last glare and smirk before they disappeared into the night, their silhouettes fading like a memory, like shadows dissolving in the dark.
And just like that, I was alone.
A bitter laugh bubbled in my throat, dry and painful. I had spent eight years in this pack, dedicated my life to raising Michael’s son, and now I was nothing more than a discarded outsider, abandoned without a second thought. The cold air pressed against my skin like a punishment, every breeze a cruel reminder of my utmost insignificance.
I struggled to my feet, swaying slightly. The scent of my blood was heavy, hanging in the cold air, and I knew it wouldn’t take long before rogue wolves caught the smell. I needed to leave right now.
But before I could take a step, heavy footsteps crunched against the gravel behind me.
“You wretched good for nothing girl! Why are you still here? Didn’t you already announce to the entire pack that you’re leaving?”
I didn’t need to turn around to recognize the voice—Maria, Michael’s mother. The woman who had despised me from the moment I set foot in the pack, her hatred festering like a wound that never healed.
I met her gaze, and she gasped when she saw my wound.
“You want to cause trouble for my son, don’t you?” she sneered. “Are you trying to make him feel guilty so he’ll beg you to stay, huh? You whore!”
I clenched my jaw, holding back the rage simmering beneath my skin. “I was leaving, Maria. But your grandson shot me.”
She scoffed. “You probably did it to yourself for attention.” She grabbed my suitcases with surprising strength and hurled them toward the gate. “Get out, you filthy rogue. Go die outside on your own.”
I staggered, nearly falling to my knees as I clutched my bleeding shoulder. My wolf whimpered inside me, but I forced myself to stand tall, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me crumble.
“You’ll regret this,” I said, my voice low with a promise. A dangerous one, forged in betrayal and fire.
A car pulled up, and the Uber driver stepped out, looking concerned. “Miss, are you alright?”
I ignored Maria’s scowl and climbed into the car, dragging my suitcase behind me with the last of my strength.
“Hospital first,” I muttered before exhaustion pulled me under like a dark tide and I passed out.
I woke to the beeping sound of a machine. My shoulder throbbed, and the air was thick with antiseptic. I was in the pack hospital, the sterile lighting making the room feel colder than it already was. A white ceiling stretched endlessly above me, devoid of warmth.
The door opened, and the pack doctor entered. “Miss Rachel, you’re awake. You lost a lot of blood, but the silver didn’t go too deep.”
I exhaled in relief. If it had, my healing would have been slower, more painful.
“I’ll have you discharged soon.” The doctor smiled politely, his eyes flickering with sympathy.
I nodded, but my mind was elsewhere. I checked my phone—no missed calls from Michael. Not even a single text. Not even a courtesy message asking if I had survived.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. What had I expected? That he’d rush to my side? That he’d care after all this time?
The door swung open again, and my stomach twisted as Susan waltzed in like she owned the place, her heels clicking on the floor with smug satisfaction.
I sighed. “What do you want? Shouldn’t you be limping?”
She giggled in delight, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers. “Oh, that? It was just a little act.” She smirked. “Michael chose me, after all.”
I clenched my fists, but she wasn’t done. She stepped closer, lowering her voice to a whisper.
“There’s something you should know.” Her lips curled into a wicked smile. “I’m pregnant.”
The world tilted beneath my feet.
I struggled to keep my expression blank, but the pain that shot through me was undeniable. Eight years. Eight years of loyalty, of sacrificing my happiness for Michael and his son. And all this time, he had been making sure I never bore his child, while giving Susan exactly what I had once dreamed of.
Susan must have seen the flicker of pain in my eyes because she laughed, the sound sharp as broken glass. “Poor Rachel. You were never going to be his mate. Michael never even considered it.”
A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. “You think you’ve won, don’t you?”
She tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “Haven’t I?”
I exhaled and stood up, ignoring the pain in my shoulder. I wouldn’t let her see me break. I wouldn’t let any of them win.
“I’ll let you have this victory, Susan,” I murmured. Enjoy your time with him. You’ll learn soon enough that Michael only values what he can control.”
I grabbed my suitcases and walked past her, my heart pounding with unspoken rage and bitter clarity.
I was done.
I had given everything to this pack, to a man who had never truly wanted me and had done nothing but use me. But now, it was time to leave. I was finally walking away—not as a victim, but as someone finally reclaiming their life. A chapter was closing, and in its place, a new story was waiting to be written.
And the next time they saw me, they would regret ever casting me aside.
As I stepped out into the night, the moonlight bathed me in silver. My wolf stirred within me, restless and fierce. A whisper of something more powerful, something dark hummed, buzzed in my veins, awakening like a sleeping storm.
Something was coming. And for the first time in years, I welcomed it with open arms.
I was no longer just Michael’s discarded lover. I was something else.
Something stronger, more powerful.
Something reborn.
And the pack would never, ever see me coming.
