Mending My Broken Heart

Chapter Three

I'd crawled into bed with as hollow a feeling as I'd started my past week with. It had just been renewed ten fold with the rejection of my mate. My dad had accepted me not taking dinner, it had become a routine. I'd skip dinner and let my hunger grow until ignoring it was no longer an option. Stumbling down the steps in the dead of night was done as quietly as possible so as not to wake him.

Ever since escaping, I'd begun to feel some sort of hope that I could regain normalcy, but let's be honest, normalcy for me wasn't much to hope for. My dad had been the mechanic on pack vehicles since he was no longer in the required age limits for the pack guard. I'd been his shadow in the shop, learning from the patrol that hung out in the break room placed in the garage, since it was near the border of our territory. They taught me to fight and fend for my selves against those twice my size. I'd never really been the social type so that aspect of my life was no big change now that I was practically a mute.

I didn't particularly enjoyed living in that pack in the first place, no family past my dad, no boyfriend or anything. But I had had friends, the younger patrolmen, sons of the older ones, and the memory of those guys was what made me the saddest. They were what I missed, and hated the Alpha for.

Above all else, Peter, Zach and Jamie were missed most of all. Every thought of them brought a pain to my chest that had nothing to do with the rope and whip burns over my heart.

A sandwhich and chips was set on the counter with an unopened can of soda next to it. I smiled at my father's thought and sat on a stool nearest it, reaching for the sandwich. A noise out the back made me jump to my feet. I moved near the door and peered out of the screen lining, feeling a breeze lift up tiny strands of my hair and tickle my skin.

The food forgotten, I turned the knob and moved out onto the porch, shutting the screen door behind me. Two, brilliant yellow eyes glared back at me from the edge of forest, no further than twelve feet from where I stood. But I knew they were not violent. With a nod, the head attached to them turned and faced away from the house, a sentinel, keeping eye over it's assignment.

I felt myself slump under the relief of no imminent threat. Moving forward yet again, I took a step down and sat. The pajama shorts and old shirt of my father's wouldn't have been suitable for a human to wear in this early spring weather but for me, the night was pleasant, if not warm.

I sighed, dropping my head on the rest of my arms, which were in turn held up by my knees. My cool, feather-like locks of waves dipped past my shoulder to drape over the side of me, a veil from the rest of the world.

How I'd woken up in my bed the next morning, I still wasn't quite sure. All I remember is a familiar man picking me up bridal style and inside I'd gone. I was going to guess my father, but a part of me kept rejecting that guess. Either way, school started that day, and I was being forced to go.

So I finished getting dressed, with a quick glance in the mirror. I took inventory of my dark work boots, faded jeans, and loose graphic tee. Good enough.

"Have a good day at school." The words came from my dad but I passed them, out of the front door before they disappeared into the dark atmosphere of the house and all the secrets it's inhabitants held.

The sound of my motorbike rumbling through the streets of the town was calming for me, or would have been if the attention it brought me had the exact opposite effect.

For the first time since owning it, parking it and bring the engine to silence, I was actually grateful for no more blare of the motor. All eyes, it felt, were on me. I'd deserved them though, I was new, coming in with a loud engine and rebellious looking outfit. Image seemed to be everything to these people.

As I passed the cement tables on the front courtyard of the school, I could hear whispers from the humans and saw solemn stares from the wolves. I wasn't sure what they knew about mine and my fathers situation but they didn't seem to happy to have a new pack member.

"Let's break the ice, Your new and I'm Lizzie." A girls voice woke me from my daze. I realized then that I'd been staring at the barren insides of my locker for the past minute or so.

"Hi, I'm Ava." I mumbled, turning to face her with cautious movements and doe turned eyes. She didn't seem deterred by my lack of enthusiasm at all. In fact, it seemed to push her further into the whole do-good aura she was giving off. Her bouncy, coppery curls and watery blue eyes only added to the whole theme.

"Who do you have first?" She asked, reaching in her locker, a few spaces from mine.

"Collins? US History?" I asked, unsure as I looked over the confusing schedule another time.

"Oh, well that works. Yeah I have 1st through 6th with you." She added, after glancing down at the sheet. I breathed out a silent sigh of relief. I wouldn't be stumbling alone through the day at least. As we started to walk towards our first class, I noticed that some of the attention was dying down and felt a huge weight begin to lift off of my chest. Lizzie did well at keeping up comfortable conversation. I'm not the silent, brooding type, well I wasn't at least. "7th and 8th hour though, have fun in Art 11 and Study Hall, the entire block, I'll have drama."

"Erin, think fast!" A shout came from inside the room I was following Lizzie into dubiously. I looked inside and saw an insane mess of students throwing stuff, gossiping at high speed, and all just chaotically spinning.

Behind me, the teacher walked in and headed to his desk, setting his coat down. "Miss Hastings, please find your seat." He motioned to the class, only somewhat calmer than previously. I moved towards a seat next to Lizzie quickly.

Suddenly, the entire room seemed to freeze where they were and sit down in their seat, shutting up completely. Sitting down, I turned to see that in the door way, there was a new person filling the frame. Mason.

My mate.

The mate who rejected me.