They Regret Throwing Me Away

The taste of copper filled my mouth before I even realized I was biting down.

“Please… I need some help…” I whispered as I staggered, but my weak voices were swallowed by the cruel cold night wind.

My body shivered with pain as I stumbled toward the Hart Pack gates, the cold iron looming like a cruel promise. My ribs burned, my legs shaking, my arms trembling. I was so helpless.

The silk nightgown I wore—once pure, now darkened in shame—clung to me, a second skin heavy with blood, sweat, and humiliation. When I finally made it to the gate, I fell to my knees at the gates, gasping, blood pooling in my mouth. My hands clawed at the cold bars.

“Please… help me,” I whispered hoarsely, my voice breaking under the weight of desperation. “I—I need… someone… anyone…”

The gate slowly creaked open. James, one of the younger guards, appeared, eyes wide, his jaw slack at the sight of me. My bloodied face, torn nightgown, and trembling form must have looked like a nightmare made flesh.

“Miss Mia… is that you?” His voice was a mixture of fear and disbelief.

I tried to stand, weak and trembling, swaying in the moonlight. “Please… I need my family… please… someone… help me…”

The soft shuffle of approaching footsteps made my heart leap with hope.

But when Liam emerged first, all warmth drained from my chest.

His dark eyes scanned me, cold and unfeeling. Behind him, Rhett followed, his posture rigid, his expression unreadable. And then… Ava stepped into the light, silk pajamas clinging perfectly, her face untouched by concern, her lips curled in mock surprise.

“Oh, Mia,” Ava said, tilting her head, voice dripping with false sweetness, yet she totally wasn’t surprised about how pathetic I looked. “What brings you here? You’re married to Alpha Cole, aren’t you? And here you are… kneeling at our gates, bloodied, why?” She laughed lightly, the sound like shattered glass against my raw nerves. “Oh, tell me, darling… did he hurt you? Or are you just… performing for us?”

I looked at her, numb and desperate.

A year ago, I might argue back fiercely with her, but now I simply didn’t have the strength.

I sank lower, the ache in my ribs sharp, I tried to make myself look as submissive as possible, hoping to gain her sympathy. “I—he… he—Alpha Cole, my mate, he hurt me! He’ll kill me… He almost did! Please, Ava… I’m not here to argue with you, I really need help…”

My arms reached out, trembling, as if I could grasp even a fragment of compassion from her.

But Ava stepped back with exaggerated disgust.

“Ugh! Your blood, your filth… don’t touch me! Do you have any idea what this looks like?”

Her voice rose, theatrical and cruel, and she waved her hands as though warding off some pest. “All of our servants… come look! Witness the little Omega who thinks she can escape her husband. Such a shame. Such… weakness.”