Rejection

Chapter 1 - Where it all began

---Kyle's POV---

The transition from human to wolf was smooth and painless as I ran into the forest. For the third time in less than a few hours, I was forced to run away from the prey that I had been tracking and flee back to the unclaimed lands.

Most packs expected rogues to be in wolf form but they didn't count on me. As unusual as it was, I actually preferred to roam on claimed lands while human, as pack wolves often perceived me to be a human trekking through their woods instead of a rogue trespassing on their territory.

Vapor trailed from my mouth with each panting breath, claws digging in the soil, paw pads protesting against the biting cold as I pushed forwards. I could hear the howls in the distance, signaling they had spotted me but they were already too late.

By the time the pack wolves rushed out the forest to see me off, I was already past their borders. Maybe they were lucky enough to see the tip of my tail disappear in the distance but they'd never been close enough to actually harm me.

When I knew I was far enough out to ensure the pack wolves didn't chase me further off, I paused, looking over my shoulder to see the wolves snapping and grumbling at the edge of their territory.

Cool wind pulled at my fur, carrying the scent of the looming winter and frost in the air. Soon enough I'd be forced to either find a den for the winter or try and ask for shelter in one of the neighboring packs.

A snort escaped me as I started my trek back towards the human village nearby, hoping to snatch some leftovers away from unsuspecting people. My life hadn't always been like this; having to hunt or scavenge for food, not having a place to belong...

My shoulder, hip and scruff burned with phantom pains as I remembered all too clearly how I lost my home. How I lost my lover, my mate, my pack and my reason to live all in one foul swoop. The scars were still there, visual proof and a physical reminder of how cruel a pack could be.

And all of that because of what? A misunderstanding? Bigotry? I had no idea what to blame, only knew the cause and the resulting banishment that ended with my life upside down. Life of a rogue wasn't unknown to me, I was born in it. But finding a mate in pack territory had been my one chance on happiness.

At least, that's what I thought.

What I got in return was distrust, resentment and ultimately rejection, all because I hadn't been born in a pack. They had seen me off of their territory, treating me as a rabid wolf that had dared to attack them. I had suffered multiple bite wounds and breaks before I had been tossed over the edge of their territory, left to die and rot in the cold.

I still remember his wolf, his eyes as he looked at me from the middle of the pack with betrayal bright in his golden eyes. And then he had turned his back on me and left along with his pack.

Left me to die at the hands of their Enforcers.

And I nearly did. A pity that my regeneration kicked in and healed up my wounds to the point where I wouldn't bleed out anymore. But even a wolf's regen capabilities stopped at torn ligaments and missing tissue. We could heal much but we couldn't exactly make fresh muscle tissue appear out of thin air.

A snort escaped me as I saw the human village nearby. I didn't need him. I didn't need a pack, packs were judgmental little pricks with their head shoved up the Alpha's ass. They'd leap off of a cliff if the Alpha commanded it, so it was no surprise that they'd turn on me, simply because I wasn't born alongside them.

There was a time where I had faith in packs, where I had hoped and prayed that I'd be accepted in one. Times where I had been a little boy with dreams, listening to my mother as she told stories of her former pack. A pack she too had to leave behind because it didn't accept rogues, even if their mates were one of their own.