Page 6 of Rejected By My Shadow Alpha
Chapter 3
Ruby
Mark's car reeked of leather and his choking cologne. I rolled the window down, letting the night air slap my face. I had done it. I had left. I took another glance in the rearview mirror. It was still just highway and darkness, but I didn't trust it. Not with my father's reach. He had to be looking for me by now. I couldn't stay in this car. It was Mark's and too easy to trace.
I spotted a rest stop and veered off, parking behind a rusted truck. My heart pounded. I had to disappear. Grabbing my purse, I slipped out and headed for a dingy shop I'd found on the map. The clerk didn't even blink when I handed him a wad of cash for a fake ID and a burner phone.
I used it to call a cab.
Twenty minutes later, I was in the back of a beat-up Corolla, riding farther from my father's world and everything I was supposed to be. I leaned my head against the window. Neon lights blurred past, but I didn't see them.
All I saw was him.
Drew.
His touch still clung to my skin—warm, cruel, and unforgettable. I'd let him in. I let him mark me. I had believed the bond meant something and that maybe fate was right. Then he looked me in the eye and shattered me.
"You're Ruby Alfonso. Daughter of the man who burned my pack to ash. Marking you was…necessary."
That was all I was to him: a symbol, a target. He never saw me. He never cared. He didn't ask who I was or try to get to know me. All he saw was my bloodline and my father's crimes. He used our bond as a weapon, not out of love or fate, just punishment. He never gave us a chance.
That's what broke me. It wasn't the rejection, but the fact that he felt the bond and still chose hate. I blinked back tears as the city faded behind me.
Six Weeks Ago…
I looked like a sculpted fantasy. Flawless, poised, almost unreal.
Every inch of me seemed to have aligned with maddening perfection: the navy-blue gown hugged my body like it had been carved onto me, sequins catching the light like stars against midnight. My hair tumbled in soft, obedient waves, my lips painted the kind of red that would turn heads. My makeup artist had outdone herself, no doubt. She had painted me like a masterpiece, airbrushed every flaw into oblivion, and left behind a woman that even I barely recognized.
It was unsettling. Not tonight. Not with him on my mind.
Drew. Damn him.
His silence. Those storm-blue eyes that saw too much. I told myself I hated him, but his presence stirred something deep in me. I remembered the night he caught me in the parking lot, the heat of his touch, and the way his eyes locked onto mine like we were already bound.
Who was he? He had no name, no scent, no past, no mention of his name from the elders…nothing. In my father's world, that made him nothing. Yet I couldn't forget him. Couldn't unfeel the way he awakened my wolf.
I adjusted the bodice of my dress and forced a breath through clenched teeth. The gala would be harmless. It was just a parade of egos and applause, with enough wine to drown my nerves.
But the moment I walked into that grand hall, I knew I had made a mistake. I knew I shouldn't have worn this dress.
He was already there, leaning against the far wall in a tailored black suit that should've been illegal and shirt slightly undone like rules were for other people. His eyes found me. They were burning, unblinking, and devastating.
Every nerve in my body stood at attention. That gaze didn't ask for permission. It took pleasure in accessing every inch of my dress and curve of my body. I hated how my knees responded and my heartbeat went wild like it was trying to beat its way to him.
I looked away. I had to look away, and I did everything not to look at him. I sipped the champagne in my glass just to keep my hands busy and nodded at Dr. Castor's story about his latest research trial. I smiled at a passing nurse I barely remembered and even laughed too loudly at something I didn't hear—anything to avoid acknowledging the heat crawling across my skin. The weight of his gaze followed me from one corner of the ballroom to the next, dark and unreadable.
I refused to meet it.
"Care for a dance?" a voice asked.
Grateful for the distraction, I turned and saw one of the young interns smiling nervously. I offered him my hand, forcing a grin. "Sure."
We joined the others as the orchestra struck up a gentle waltz, the rhythm sweeping us into polite spins and steps. I triedto stay present, focus on the music, and the way the chandelier light glimmered in the room, but the back of my neck tingled.
He was watching me.
When we rotated partners in the pattern of the waltz, I nearly lost my breath. There he was, tall, still, and devastating in that black-on-black suit, eyes like a storm locked on me. My next partner twirled me away before I could react, but by the next pass, I was face-to-face with him.
