A Rejected Wolf and a Court of Ash (Eden and Azriel) novel Chapter 38

apter 38

Chapter 38

Eden

The men drag me down into the belly of the pack dungeons. It’s a place where the light doesn’t reach. The air down here is damp and rotting Like Duk place itself has been forgotten, just like how I feel right now.

Forgotten. Rejected by my own pack and kind.

I’m shoved into a small stone cell. No windows. No bed. Just iron rings drilled into the wall and the stink of old blood from past fallen enemies.

“On your knees,” one of the pack warriors snaps.

I don’t move fast enough, and a boot slams into the back of my leg. I fall. Hard. My knees crack against the cold stone. Why do they have to be so rough?

The worst part is that they aren’t done yet. One pack warrior grabs my wrists, yanking them above my head and chaining them so tight to the wall that my shoulders burn from the uncomfortable position that I’m in. The cold iron is biting into my skin.

“This is what happens to mouthy little omegas,” the bigger pack warrior says. He smells like sweat and hate.

The other one looks me over and laughs. “You call yourself a wolf?” His eyes drag down my frame with disgust. “You’re all bones. What, you think lifting a few weights and training with Alpha Logan would make you strong? You’ll always be weak. You’ll always be nothing.”

I flinch, but there’s nowhere to hide.

The pack warriors are huge, broad–shouldered men thick with muscle, the kind of warriors the pack praises. I’ve been trying to build muscle with Logan. Hoping it would help me shape–shift, but I still look like someone who doesn’t belong.

These men see it. They enjoy seeing it.

“Bet Logan’s embarrassed to even look at you,” one of them adds with a sneer. “No wonder he didn’t stop his father from taking you here. You don’t belong in the Valentine pack if you can’t shape–shift or build muscle.”

The other spits in my face. “Bitch omega.”

I try to turn away from the spray from his mouth, but my arms are locked in place. I can’t even wipe it off. Not even when it is running down my chin.

“Disgusting creature,” he mutters. “Stay down here, where you belong.”

Their laughter echoes like it’s alive, mocking me, dancing off the stone as they walk away.

“Sleep tight, omega bitch.”

The door slams shut.

I’m alone.

The cold seeps in fast, curling around my bare feet and wrapping around my chest like a second set of chains.

I drop my head forward, swallowing the sob that wants to escape.

The Valentine pack hates me. Not just for what I did but for who I am. For being born at the bottom and daring to look our future Luna in the eye and drench her in milk.

I wasn’t thinking when I did that. I was just tired of how Paris has been treating me. How Elvira looked at me, I’m tired of and, for once, stand up for myself… I thought the pack would maybe see me as more than an omega.

and…I tried to be strong

But they don’t.

1/3

Chapter 38

I’m worthless.

And tonight, no one is coming to save me.

The coll is silent except for the soft drip of water running down the walls. Since my legs are in water, I suspect I’m going to get a cold kem being never in the pack dungeons. I barely notice it anymore, though. I’ve been here long enough for the chill to have settled deep into my bones

I hate that.

Why am I being treated like this for a simple little crime?

I want to cry for being treated like I don’t matter. Like the pack has already rejected me and made me a rogue, but the tears won’t come.

Then…the temperature shifts.

It starts as a breeze where there should be none. I shiver, try to ignore it. But the cold gets worse, and with it comes a mist. if curls around my antes ve the gentle touch of a lover.

I lift my head, breath catching.

What kind of magic is this?

I keep staring at the pool mist until a tall body dressed in a black–fitted Henley and jeans rises.

Azriel.

He is like a beautiful phantom in the night, silent and impossibly still with his dark hair, glowing purple eyes, and his trademark smirk that looks carved from sin. His presence fills the cell without effort, swallowing the air, the silence, the cold. And somehow, making everything colder.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just stands there, looking at me like I’m something he doesn’t quite understand. Like he’s confused by the fact that he’s even

here.

I stiffen. “What…do you want?”

His head tilts like the one belonging to a raven. “You look terrible,” he murmurs, voice smooth like velvet dragged over glass. “Didn’t know werewolves treated their omegas like this. There’s spit on your face-” His pointer finger curls and touches his own cheek, “Right here.”

I glare at him. “Are you here to make fun of me?”

He doesn’t deny it. Of course he doesn’t.

Instead, he steps forward, boots silent like a predator taught to walk like a shadow.

“This is not me making fun of you. This is me helping you by pointing out there’s spit on your face.”

“Not very helpful when I can’t remove it.”

“I can see that now…”

His eyes trail over the chains biting into my wrists, down to the blood crusting near the cuffs. Something flickers across his face. Not pity–he’d never show that. But maybe… a trace of anger.

I think that emotion is confusing for a fae prince because he changes the subject. “You will soon turn eighteen. I wanted to talk to you about that, but then I realized I won’t see you before Monday. So I came here.”

I narrow my eyes. “You came all this way to talk about my birthday? The day I’m ready to be kidnapped?”

“We still have to wait for the blood moon…” His gaze drops to my flushed cheeks and the grime and the dried spit. His voice lowers. “But your inevitable death isn’t the conversation I wanted to have. I’m more curious about what happened between us.”

Chapter 38

When I stare blankly at him, his lips twitch.

“Dot have to be blunt?”

“Yes.”

His lips twitch again. “I came because I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss.”

My heart stutters.

“You were supposed to be my enemy, omega,” he says softly, almost to himself. “And then you kissed me like I was the only one who’s ever touched you.”

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