Rejected By My Mate novel Chapter 1

My eyes were closed as I lay peacefully in my bed, gradually falling into a deep sleep. All of a sudden, I heard a voice close to my ears.

And even though my eyes were closed, I knew who it was. The closed person I had to a best friend, Renee Malivert. She was beautiful. Brown hair, blue eyes, perfect smile. I envied her. "Why are you up? I asked, ignoring her question and opening one eye. "It's morning, why else would I be up?"

She said sarcastically, pursing her lips. I rubbed my eyes as I leaned up into a slouch. "My apologies. What are you doing in here anyways? You know if Kol catches you in here he'll be pissed." I shooed her off my bed, but she only stood at the end of it watching me with judgy eyes. "I don't care, I could take The Alpha. Show him a good one, two." She punched the air frantically. I half smiled at her. "Yeah well, you can give him a good one, two... in the living room. Get out before he catches you. Go." She frowned at me as I got up and shoved her out of the door. I pressed my forehead against the cool wood of the now closed door and sighed. "Happy 18th birthday Katerina." I told myself, and turned and looked at the clock, 7:38am. Eight minutes past when I should have been up. No wonder Renee came in. I sighed and turn around to get ready for school.

I run my morning routine through my head as I go along. Shower, get dressed, run downstairs and make my way in and around the kitchen, serving the pack breakfast. Once they're all finished, I'll need to clean up after them too. All before the clock hits 8:30am. In 20 minutes, I'm brushing the dull red hair and ready rush outta my bedroom. I'm a bit behind in time. I run down the stairs in a black T-shirt and blue jeans. My navy blue pull-over sweater was hanging over my arm as I did, my shoes screeching against the newly polished floor of the pack house. I made sure to do that last night whilst they were asleep. I reach the kitchen, shove my sweater into a far corner of the counter and began grabbing food out of the fridge. In 15 minutes I am frying bacon, eggs, and cooking up some pancakes. Quickly, I grab some large serving plates from the cupboards, tossed them on the kitchen counter, and poured each pan into a separate serving bowl. There. I click the stove top burners off one by one. It was normal morning routine, I was used to it.

I grabbed some glasses from the cupboard, place them on the counter. I take out a few cartons of juice from the fridge, apple and orange and leave them on the counter too. Lastly, I grabbed the utensils needed and stuck them by the plates. I look over my work, I wasn't forgetting anything. Breakfast was ready for my pack. And slowly the pack comes into the kitchen, filling their plates and glasses. Some head toward the dining room table, others sit at the isle in the middle of the kitchen.

I took my steps back, waiting for them to finish, picking at my nails with my hands at my sides. They never took long to eat.

When they all got up to leave, I quietly cleared the table, wiped it up the counter and started with the dishes.

It's 8:44am when I am finished. Shit. I grabbed my sweater from the corner, realizing my bag was still upstairs. I rush to my room in stealth mode to grab my backpack, hoping no-one would notice how late I was. But of course, I wasn't lucky. When I had closed my bedroom door - if you could call a single mattress and a broken dresser a bedroom - behind me, I smashed into the hard chest of a person. That person being my brother, Ace. I kept my eye's cast down a I mumbled an apology. "Move. Pay attention next time will you?" He spat, mumbling a swear word under his breath. Bumping my shoulder as he walks down the hall to his room, grabbing his own bag I assume.

I ignore that slight pang of sadness as I walk down the stairs and out to the graveled street of the driveway. My eye's were damp, but I wouldn't cry. Stepping out of the pack house, I watch the expensive and gorgeous cars speed past me as I start walking down the street and to school.