Rejected Mate Bride (Silverrose Wolves #1)

Chapter 1 - Flora

The sound of the stream comforted her as Flora walked the familiar path that wound through the trees.

Pine needles muffled her footfalls as she walked quietly through the forest. Her stealth was important.

The last thing she needed was to be spotted heading toward the secret rendezvous spot where she had been meeting Camden Hughes for the past few months.

Flora’s heart gave a flutter at the thought of seeing Camden’s bright smile greet her.

She knew exactly what he would look like: tall, broad shoulders, casually dressed.

His expression would be serious as he waited, but when he caught sight of Flora, his blue eyes would twinkle.

She knew this because that was what happened every Tuesday night.

On this one day of the week, after the sun had set and the town was quiet, Flora finally felt free.

It was the only time she’d ever felt something close to happiness, and after a day like today, she needed it.

Today had been a hellish day. But to be fair, every day had been hellish for her for a very long time.

The path began to curve to the left, but Flora ignored it and continued straight for another twenty feet.

If she followed the walking trail, it would take her to the covered bridge.

The meetup spot for the popular teenagers of the Silverrose pack was not somewhere Flora was welcome.

She knew better than to trespass on their turf, even if it was unlikely any of them would be there on a Tuesday.

Flora followed the less-traveled grass trail that wound down toward the stream and ended underneath the bridge.

It was the only way to get down to the bank of the stream safely, and the spot was completely out of view from travelers above.

She had been going there for years to get away, enjoying the way the rush of water muffled the sounds of the world around her, making her feel like she could finally let go of the careful mask she wore every day.

Sometimes she wasn’t even sure who she really was, wasn’t sure if she was real anymore. Which was probably how the rest of the pack wanted her to feel: small, useless, unwanted. This pack wasn’t where she was supposed to be, and they made sure to remind her of that every chance they had.

Flora sighed, wondering what would have become of her if she hadn’t been adopted by her parents, Ben and Stella Jones, when she was six years old. When she was young, she was happy to be chosen. The orphanage had been cramped and lonely. Finally, she had gotten the family she’d always dreamed of.

“Most parents don’t get a choice,” her mother had told her. “But we picked you. You’re special, Flora.”

And like an idiot, Flora believed her. She had believed her for four years, when it finally became apparent to everyone in their shifter community that she wasn’t special at all.

Ben and Stella should have chosen better, because the child they had brought home to be a part of their werewolf family was faulty.

Flora didn’t have the shifter gene. She was completely human.

It had taken Flora by surprise when everyone suddenly ostracized her from pack life.

As the news about her spread, she became a target for bullying, mocking, and abuse.

She still had nightmares about the first time the boys at school had thrown rocks at her on the playground.

Flora had run all the way home, sobbing, but instead of being held and comforted by her mother, she had been shoved aside.

“What did you expect?” Stella asked with a sneer. “You’re not one of us.”

“But you picked me, Mom. You said I’m special.”

Her parents had turned their noses up at her in disgust. “If we had known you weren’t a wolf, we never would have brought you here,” Ben said harshly.

And just like that, Flora had shut down her emotions. She was alone again, and even though the Jones’ house in Silverrose was nicer than the orphanage, the risks were the same.

“Mom” and “Dad” became “Ben” and “Stella,” and Flora spent the next few years learning how to make herself invisible and compliant so she could survive the never-ending abuse of the people around her.

Everyone knew she was a human, and nearly all of them thought she had pretended to be one of them so she could gain access to the benefits of being a pack.

There may be other humans living in Silverrose, but they had no say in town politics.

They lived there at the mercy of Alpha Hughes, a highly mercurial personality who was best avoided.

This meant she had no chance at a friendship with other humans, either.

Living with werewolves came with certain risks, and none of them wanted to tack on another one by cozying up to a worthless little girl whom the rest of the pack looked down on.

Even if she had been able to make a human friend, her adoptive parents were adamant that she didn’t mingle with any humans whatsoever.

Their place in the pack was too precarious to survive, they said, thanks to her own lack of the werewolf gene.

Only one person had ever truly seen her: Camden.

The tricky thing was, most of the time, he was no better than the rest of the pack.

He had been one of the first to push her aside out of pack life.

When the truth about her lack of a wolf came to light, Flora had been mocked and teased at school by everyone, but none had been as merciless as Camden and his group of friends.

Even as children, they had been harsh and strict.

They were destined to grow up to be warriors in the pack.

They had taken their roles very seriously, ensuring that everyone followed the rules and fell in line with the alpha’s wishes.

Time had mellowed them all somewhat, but her place at the bottom of the pack hierarchy remained.

No one wanted Flora around, and they all made sure to tell her that any chance they got.

After years of abuse and torment at Camden’s hands, he had been the last person she’d expected to have anything in common with.

But when they had bumped into each other underneath the bridge a few months prior, her world had shifted.

If Flora had any friends to talk to about her relationship with Camden—if it could even be called a relationship—they would be aghast at how she’d allowed herself to be treated.

In public, Camden treated her as he always had.

He was harsh and cruel, following the lead of the rest of the wolves who wished the strange human girl would leave the pack forever.

But in private, Flora saw a different side to him.

When they were alone, Camden wasn’t the arrogant, self-assured young man he showed to the rest of the world.

He was softer, more charming, and infinitely more protective.

It was in their first meeting under the bridge that Flora had realized just how much of a mask he was wearing. A mask not unlike her own.

Camden’s role in the pack was to follow in his father’s footsteps as a soldier, but she could already tell he was destined for greater things than taking orders.

He was smart and funny, and more than anything, he wanted Silverrose to be a better and safer place for everyone.

When they were alone, Camden treated her like a person worthy of his attention.

He listened, offered advice, and sometimes looked at her with something she could only describe as desire.

She had never been the object of anyone’s affection before, but she had seen enough couplings within the pack to recognize a man’s interest. It was that interest that kept Flora coming back to meet him every Tuesday evening, hoping for the day when their fragile friendship would blossom into something more meaningful; something that could be public, and change the way the rest of the pack saw her.

The stream grew louder as Flora came around the rock pile that hid the base of the bridge from view. She could see a messy head of blond hair, lit up by a pale lantern held in the strong hand of her one and only occasional friend.

“Cam,” she whispered, knowing he couldn’t hear her.

His name tasted sweet on her lips, but she never allowed herself to say it to his face.

It would be too easy to make a mistake in public, to call him “Cam” instead of “Hughes” and accidentally reveal her attachment to him.

All the soldiers-in-training went by their last names when they were at school.

Only their close friends and family would ever call them by a first name, much less a nickname.

She knew he didn’t need her protection—he didn’t deserve it, considering how he treated her when others were watching—but she couldn’t bring herself to break his trust. She didn’t want him to suffer because of his connection with her.

Her foot nudged a loose stone that rolled down the hill toward him.

He whirled around at the sound, his eyes scanning his surroundings warily.

When he caught sight of Flora, he burst into a smile that was equal parts happy and relieved.

Then he sighed deeply, and Flora began to walk faster. Something was different tonight.

“Hey,” she said breathlessly as she reached him. “Sorry I was late.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” she said dismissively. “I burned the chicken at dinner tonight, so Stella had extra chores for me to do. And then she wanted to give me a lecture about responsibility and earning my keep. You know, the usual.”

“I’m sorry,” Camden said gently. Flora could tell that he truly meant it. She wished, for the thousandth time, that the two of them could be like this with each other all the time. She hated that she only had a friend for an hour each week—if she was lucky.

“It’s okay,” she said with a shrug. “I’m here now.”

“I was worried you might not come tonight,” Camden admitted.

“I always do,” Flora pointed out.