Chapter 3
Dawn broke over the rugged peaks of Blackridge with a cold, unforgiving light.
The mountains loomed like ancient sentinels, their craggy faces etched by wind and time.
The mist that clung to every stone and crevice served as a constant reminder of the pack's bitter traditions—a legacy of cruelty and disdain that seeped into every corner of this harsh land.
Celeste rose from the uneasy sleep of the previous night, her heart still pounding from the memories of another day spent under the weight of their scorn.
The echo of their laughter, their whispered insults, clung to her like a second skin.
Yet, she had no choice but to move forward.
There was no room for weakness here.
The communal exercise was already in full swing when Celeste arrived.
The pack members, gathered in a rough clearing framed by ancient pines and jagged boulders, moved with precision.
Their synchronized motions—a blend of physical drills and ritualistic posturing—were a testament to the old ways: unyielding, merciless, and absolute.
As Celeste stepped into the clearing, the shift in the air was palpable.
Eyes turned toward her, filled with open disdain.
A few sneers were exchanged, quiet but sharp, meant for her alone.
"Look who decided to crawl out of whatever hole she hides in," one of the pack members muttered.
Another scoffed, his voice dripping with scorn.
"She should save herself the humiliation and leave.
No one wants her here."
Celeste kept her head down, refusing to let them see the sting of their words.
But inside, the familiar ache settled in her chest.
She was an outsider, a stain on their pristine legacy—an existence barely tolerated, never accepted.
Then, as if to make things worse, he arrived.
Rafe Aldric moved with the weight of absolute authority, his presence enough to silence the murmurs.
The air seemed to shift around him, as though the very earth understood who commanded it.
His gaze swept over the assembled pack with practiced indifference—until it landed on Celeste.
The flicker of recognition was brief, replaced almost instantly by something sharper.
Disgust.
"Celeste."
His voice was hard, edged with impatience.
"Join the formation."
She hesitated, just for a second.
A mistake.
"Now," he snapped.
The single word cracked through the clearing like a whip.
She swallowed hard and obeyed, stepping into line.
The others barely concealed their amusement at her discomfort, smirking as she moved stiffly into place.
The exercises were relentless.
Push-ups, sprints, drills designed to break even the strongest among them.
Celeste's muscles burned, but she forced herself to keep up.
She would not give them the satisfaction of watching her fail.
Rafe, however, had other plans.
Every time her pace lagged, even slightly, his voice cut through the air with pinpoint cruelty.
"Sloppy."
"Pathetic."
"Is this truly the best you can manage?"
His words were like barbs, deliberate and merciless.
She could feel the others watching, enjoying the show as their Alpha stripped her of any remaining dignity.
When she stumbled during a set of lunges, his voice turned ice-cold.
"I don't know why you even bother."
Rafe's tone was calm, but the cruelty was unmistakable.
"You will never be one of us."
Celeste's breath hitched, but she kept moving, jaw clenched so tightly it ached.
A low chuckle came from someone nearby.
"She actually thinks she belongs here."
"Maybe she believes in all those foolish fairy tales," another mocked.
"A mate bond?
As if anyone would ever be tied to her."
Celeste's hands curled into fists, but she said nothing.
She knew better than to fight back.
The drills continued until exhaustion threatened to drag her down, but she refused to stop.
Not until Rafe finally gave the order to stand at attention.
As they stood in a line along the rocky outcrop, the morning sun casting long shadows over the peaks, Rafe took his place at the front.
His expression was unreadable, but when he spoke, his voice carried the weight of finality.
"Strength is all that matters."
His eyes swept over the pack, pausing only briefly on Celeste before moving on.
"We do not coddle the weak."
"We do not make room for the useless."
"If you cannot prove yourself, you are nothing."
He wasn't speaking to the pack.
He was speaking to her.
The message was clear: she would never be enough.
No matter how hard she fought, how much she endured, she would always be the outsider, the mistake that should never have existed.
The pack dispersed, their laughter and murmurs fading into the wind as they returned to their duties.
Celeste lingered for a moment, staring out over the jagged peaks of Blackridge, her breath unsteady.
She could still feel his words like a fresh wound.
"You will never be one of us."
Rafe walked past her without another glance, his indifference cutting deeper than any insult.
And for the first time in a long time, Celeste wondered if he was right.
Would she ever escape this endless cycle o
f cruelty?
Or was she truly doomed to be nothing more than a shadow in Blackridge, forever unwanted, forever alone?