Page 1 of Rejected By Blood (Mated in Silence 2)

Prologue

Jillian

The forest still loomed large around the little cabin. Dark pines and alders, hickories and honeylocust, and so many others I couldn’t name. Magda promised to teach me, but her old joints weren’t alway up to a long trek anymore, and I didn’t want to cause the person who’d shown me such kindness even a moment of pain. Shifters aged slower than most others, but even we had our declining years. My friend, half-shifter and half-witch I believed, although I never asked, had likely lived well over a century, maybe two. Her wisdom and mentorship had enabled me to survive when the pack sent me to live in the forest on my own.

Just a young teen, I had been fostered by various members who, while they were not cruel, had never seemed especially invested in my life. And when the previous alpha announced that I would be living on my own, I had been completely unprepared.

My home had been barely fit for anyone to live in, at the time, and even with Magda’s help, I hadn’t made it much better. Inside, it was clean, at least, and organized. Funny how easy it is to organize when you have almost nothing. And it smelled good inside because of all the herbs hanging from the rafters. I crafted teas and remedies, with Magda’s assistance, and hoped one day to be able to help others as she did. Some of the pack had begun to come to me for various culinary herbs and things.

As lonely as I was, their brief calls were like my social life.

Before Dean, I thought I’d accepted my lot, grateful for what scraps came my way, even though I didn’t know why I was singled out to be alone...or why I had no voice.

But Dean makes me feel like I have a voice even without the ability to talk. He makes me feel...whole.

Which is why my interest, my wolf’s interest, in two new shifters to the pack is so confusing.

Chapter One

Jillian

So far, I’d avoided the other two men my wolf demanded I run toward for the last few weeks. Dean was enough. He was more than enough.

“Where are you going, mate of mine?” His voice popped my ever-present overthinking bubble and plucked me back into reality. I’d just finished a longer shift than usual since harvest season was over and the winter preparations were in full swing. Winters around here were harsh. Despite the alpha barking about more supplies and more firewood for the entire pack, it never seemed to be enough. Inevitably, as the snow began to melt, you would hear axes chopping at trees that simply wanted to finish their winter rest.

Good thing I didn’t rely on the pack’s provisions to get me through. I’d never depended on them and never would. Not that they would allow it anyway.

But this year was a little different. This year I had more than just me to keep warm and fed.

Didn’t feel like a burden one single bit.

I held up my basket as an answer. This time of year boasted mushrooms and green onions that grew wild in the forest, but the pack wasn’t privy or else, they just didn’t care. Season by season, the forest gifted different herbs and sprigs of flavorings.

“Okay. Be careful. I have this to finish and then I’m coming home.” Dean walked over to me after putting his axe down and grabbed me by the hips, pulling them against his as he kissed me until I was downright delirious.

When I was a little girl, I’d always wanted an affectionate mate. But as I grew up and became more and more pushed away from everyone in the pack, I gave up hope that he would actually appear. Learned to be grateful for the scraps tossed my way, the occasional kind word from someone who didn’t pay enough attention to be rude to me. And Magda. I was always grateful for the half-witch who lived even deeper in the forest than I did. But a mate? I’d decided that would never happen.

Until Dean. His hugs and kisses, long winter nights of lovemaking and casual but loving compliments. Sometimes I even forgot about my unfortunate affliction.

Fate seemed to like me after all, just a little.

I left after making sure my knees were still working and found myself hopping over roots and winding around tree trunks in my search for treasures for that night’s soup. Dean never complained about having basically the same thing every night. He’d gotten into the pack’s good graces thanks to his hard work and perseverance, despite being mated to the outcast. So several times a week, he now came home with a fresh loaf of bread and once some cinnamon rolls. Bread made my soup taste like, well, more than soup.

“You should be more careful walking out here alone...Callista.”

I rolled my eyes. I’d never seen this man before but he must’ve been drunk or something. My name wasn’t Callista, not even close.

I shook my head and turned slightly, pointing toward the pack common area. He was probably lost and inebriated. It happened more than one would think around here.

“No, I’m not here for them. I’m here for you. You look so much like your mother. It’s incredible.” He moved with his hand extended as though he might touch me, but I slapped it away. I grimaced at the mushrooms I had just spotted but would have to forget since this jerk was blocking my path and apparently was a touchy-feely sort. My basket swung as I walked away, but the man followed me.

Whirling on him, I intended to give him the stink eye of the century, but probably failed. He did look like I’d slapped him.

“You don’t even know who you are?” He stepped toward me but I stood my ground. My wolf snarled and snapped at another male so close. “Can you speak?”

My wolf took over then. She wasn’t putting up with this any longer and forced the shift.

Bad people. Won’t find us again. Need mate.

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