Page 2 of Rejected Pregnant Mate

I hadn’t told a single soul about my powers, not even Kiera, who had magic of her own. It was my secret, and I planned to keep it that way until I was in complete control of it.

A gust of wind stirred my hair as I reached the tree line, and I let myself lean back against the thick trunk of an old birch. It was cool and solid against my spine. The moon was full, thepower of it singing through my veins, my wolf and my magic both stirring, intertwined, and restless.

I’d conquered so much in the last few years, but socially, I was still lacking. Without the support of my parents, I didn’t feel unique anymore. I just felt weird. Samson and Kiera were supportive, but their interests were with the pack. Gwen had a nerdy streak a mile wide, which is what made us best friends, but her nerdiness didn’t color everything about her like it did with me. She fit in, and I didn’t. It was okay…but I still wondered what it would be like not to have to sneak out of parties and conversations just to keep from being too much.

I might not be a good fit for the pack, but I had something none of them would understand anyway. My magic, and tonight, with the power of the full moon washing over me, there was no better time to practice it.

I was just about to slip deeper into the woods when a familiar voice startled me back into reality.

“Nayeli! You disappeared before the cake. That’s not like you.”

I stumbled to a stop, cursing under my breath. I recognized the voice—Caleb Weaver, a wolf I’d gone to school with and one of Samson’s warriors. I guess I wasn’t the only one trying to escape the party. His comment struck a chord, but I refused to let the hurt show on my face as I smoothed my dress down over my more-than-generous curves.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

His smile was easygoing, like he hadn’t just caught me trying to slink away like a Sasquatch into the forest. “Wasn’t supposed to mean anything, Nayeli. Just wondering where you’re going and if you wanted some company.”

Uh, definitely not. But I didn’t say that to him so rudely. “No. I’m going home. I feel…uh…sick. Didn’t want to vomit at the party.”

“Oh,” His expression turned uncomfortable, just like everyone's did when they talked to me. “Well, if you stop feeling sick, some of us are going on a full moon run. Might hunt some rabbits or something. Just thought I’d extend the invite.”

I nodded too fast. He was probably only inviting me because it would be rude to leave the Alpha’s cousin out. “Wow, cool. But probably not. You know. Vomit, and all. Well…bye.”

I turned and practically sprinted for the trees, my face hot. Ugh, why was I like this? At least I was unlikely to be interrupted once I made it to my destination, and therefore, I could avoid any more social disasters.

It wasn’t a far hike, less than a mile. My parents’ property had bordered the Alphas' property for decades, and while I had inherited the land and house after their deaths, I still wasn’t brave enough to return to the place where we had all lived together. I was twenty when they died, but I was an only child, and they were thrilled for me to still be living at home as I pursued my internship. But while the house was still too painful for me to enter, there was another place on the property that I had made good use of. My safe place. The treehouse.

Dad and I had built it when I was twelve, right between two thick branches of a massive old oak that looked like they had grown for that exact purpose. My father wasn’t a carpenter, but he’d overengineered the place so it would be safe for me, which meant it was much larger than a normal kid’s treehouse. Where one plank was needed, he used two, just to be sure. The roof had been rain-proofed, the floorboards sanded to avoid splinters, and he’d let me paint the inside whatever colors I wanted.

At twelve, I had been fully in my space phase, and the walls were painted in shades of purple, navy blue, and black, with twinkling white stars spread throughout. Even now, as an adult, I have no urge to change it. The obnoxious walls were a sweet memory and a precursor to how loud and unapologetic my fashion would become as an adult.

After my dad died, I couldn’t come here for a while, but it didn’t have the heartbreaking heaviness that the house did. Dad had built it for me, but after that, the treehouse became mine and mine alone.

Now, with a few upgrades for comfort, it became the place I came to practice my magic in private. I’d been gathering spellbooks and the various items the beginners' books told me I needed—crystals, plants, incense, oils, and other witchy things. I’d successfully cast a few minor spells—small good luck charms and healing magic—but I’d been waiting for the full moon to try my first real spell. When Kiera had told me that she’d scheduled Kit’s party for the full moon, I’d almost used the birthday as an excuse to chicken out and wait until next month, but after skipping out of the party early, there was no excuse.

I had the time, I had the moon, and I had the magic. But did I have the talent? It was time to find out.

I climbed the ladder up the side of the tree, pulling the string and ducking my head as the trap door opened. After getting myself inside, I brushed the cobwebs from my skirt, but didn’t bother shutting the trap door again. I’d be leaving in a few hours, anyway.

Waving a hand, I used my magic to light the candles that filled the space. My shelves that used to hold childhood treasures were now lined with mismatched glass jars, feathers, rune stones, and books—so many books, half of them dog-eared.I’d carried a soft plush rug and some pillows up to sit on months ago, and there was a short, squat table that had been here for years.

In the very center of the table, surrounded by symbols drawn with white chalk, was the spell I’d been preparing. It was a magic amplifying spell to help me reach my full potential. As an Omega, I should have gotten a power boost from my mate, but Scott had rejected me, making it impossible for me to access all of my magic capabilities. Well, I was going to show him and everyone else that I didn’t need a mate for anything.

It had taken weeks, but I’d done it. Every item was laid out exactly as instructed—crushed star anise, moonstone, bloodroot, and a slip of paper etched with runes I’d copied from a spellbook so old that the dust from its pages had made me sneeze. In the center of it all was a dark red candle.

It wasn’t a dangerous spell. Not really. It was just something to enhance the magic that was already inside me. I didn’t want to stay stuck at the level of parlor tricks and candle lighting forever.

And okay, if I was being honest with myself, the idea of having real power was intoxicating. It would make me more than just the geeky, oversharing, weird-dressing cousin of the Alpha. It would make me someone to pay attention to in my own right, not just because of who I was related to…or who I was supposed to be mated to, only to be rejected.

Scott’s stupid, handsome face floated in my memories, but I pushed it away. Scott Nevada was a mistake, and if I pulled this spell off, he’d spend the rest of his life regretting his decision to toss me aside. A powerful mate was everything that an Alpha wanted, but he’d had his chance.

Settling in front of the table, I crossed my legs, took a steadying breath, and struck a match. I couldn’t use my magic to light this candle; I needed to do it with intention.

“Let’s see what I’m made of,” I whispered, touching the match to the candle wick. “Sorry for using the treehouse as a witch's hut, Dad.”

The candlelight flickered, growing larger as it absorbed the beams of moonlight pouring in from the treehouse windows. My magic shimmered beneath my skin in response, ready for whatever I asked of it. A wind blew through the treehouse, coming from nowhere, and some dark thread within my magic resonated.

Huh. That was new. Must be part of the spell.

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