Klepto POV

"Umm. Uh okay let's talk then." I force a smile I'm definitely not feeling while I look up into his handsome face. A face like that should be illegal.

He doesn't seem as generous today as he was last night at dinner. In fact, he looks like he's ready for battle. I want to take a step back, but my body won't let me. All of my senses seem to buzz from being this close to him.

His lycan side is showing, the expression on his face displays a very stern glare. Danger oozes into the atmosphere surrounding him.

Gee, who spit in his cereal this morning?

Ezra looks to his right, then his left, glancing over his broad, muscled shoulders cautiously. I'm guessing he's using his highly attuned special lycan powers to tell him if anyone is close by.

Apparently, no one is near enough to cause any concern because he comes right out and says it.

"We're mates." He says, stating the obvious.

I nod, happy that he's finally acknowledging it, but nervous about the bone quaking way he talks about it as he continues to glare at me. A small wrinkle forms between his brows, his jaw and hands clenched.

"Yes....?" Is my unsure reply.

He sighs and runs a hand through his thick, auburn brown locks, and they look feathery soft as each strand floats back down to his scalp. I want to reach up and touch them.

His anxiety brushes against me with a burning sensation that travels down my spine and into my legs.

"We can't... we can't be mates. I can't have you as my mate." He rushes out, his deep voice striking me. I feel like he's punched me right in the gut.

He doesn't want me. I should've expected that.

I choke, taking a step backwards. He strides forward and I hold up a hand, trying to gather up some composure, telling him to get back.

It's slowly starting to dawn on me... my suspicions were all true then. Of course he doesn't want me. The fact that he doesn't want me as his mate will change my life for the worse.

I'll be living with my hateful parents for the rest of my life. I will live as the pack doormat for the rest of my life. All because of him.

Here I am, dreaming for someone to take me away from it all only to have that someone spit in my face.

"Why?" Is the only word that I can come up with in my shocked state.

Tears fill my eyes, but no mercy reflects back at me. My mate stands straighter, resolve making his posture stiff. His sunshine eyes are too dark as if clouds have rolled in and blocked out all the light.

"It wouldn't work. I'm a warrior, I need to concentrate on my job, and a mate is a distraction. I heard about your.... problem." He utters after some reluctance. My lungs tighten at the words.

Does he know?

"Stealing is a shameful thing. You seem like a handful, and I can't keep up with that."

He knows.

Someone told him, not that I'm really surprised. He would've heard about it at some point, my name is Klepto for Goddess sake.

I am a handful, but I thought that my mate would be made for me, and that they would equal me out in every way. That meant that whoever my mate was would know how to take care of me, and I would know how to care for them. At least, that's what I always believed.

Clearly Ezra doesn't agree.

"Please. I can... I can try harder. Please. I can change, for you! I really can." I plead. For a moment something appears to spark in his gaze, but as soon as it's there it fizzles out into nothing. His eyes are a desolate wasteland.

Ezra's jaw clenches tighter and he breathes out slowly through his nostrils.

"No. I can't have a mate, let alone a stealing mate, and that's final. I'm sorry if this is hard for you, but it's the way it should be." His handsome face is void of emotion, his lips pulled into a harsh line. He's so tall and brooding, an intimidating figure.

In the light I notice a few freckles around Ezra's forehead and hairline, and the sight makes me stop breathing. I may never be close enough to see those ever again. The thought makes me want to drop to the tile floor and weep.

"Not to mention, werewolves are weak. Particularly omegas. A lycan warrior with a helpless mate will look helpless themselves. I think it would be easier this way. I'm sorry." The words are like knives to me, and I feel something snap within me.

I should be angry, I should be absolutely, royally pissed... and yet all I feel is completely shattered. Sorrow wheezes into me like dust, filling every crack inside my broken heart.

I'm not enough for my mom or dad.

I'm not enough for my Alpha.

I'm not enough for my pack.

Now, I'm not enough for my own mate.

This rejection is definitely the hardest by far because the one person meant to heal my heart is the one who finished destroying it.

"I... I understand." I somehow end up saying, but everything sounds fuzzy like my voice is far far away.

I'm so dazed that I pick up my laundry bag, hefting it up my shoulder and begin shuffling away like a miserable zombie.

All I know is that I want to get as far away from him as quickly as I possibly can. Then someone grabs my arms from behind and slings me around, making me dizzier than I already was.

Ezra holds me tightly, his long fingers digging into my flesh. He was biting his lip, his teeth were brilliantly white and sort of sharp, making him look like the predator he is.

He clears his throat and lets me go so quickly as if he thinks I'm poisonous, which might be true, who knows?

"I don't want you telling anyone about this." He barks, and I shiver from his tone, hastily wiping away my tears. I can't look weaker to him, he already thinks I'm pathetic enough without them.

"About what?"

"Any of it." He decides, "Us being mates, that we can't have a relationship. Not even us speaking beyond what others see. Nobody can know about it."

My emotions leave me so choked up I can't speak, so I give him a simple nod of my head.

Seemingly satisfied, he echoes my nod before turning on his heels and retreating out of the pack house, leaving me alone and broken.

By the time I make it to the laundry room, I'm sobbing. The shudders wrack me from head to toe, shredding my throat and filling my nose with sticky snot.

So much for optimism.

I angrily shove every piece of bedding into the enormous washing machines, slamming them shut with purpose as the sounds of my crying continue to assault the air.

I am a complete and utter mess, and I'm starting to think that Ezra dodged a bullet. Who would want an emotional psycho for a mate?

Finally, I get up off of the floor. I sniffle a little bit, grabbing a bucket and mop as I slink back into the pack house.

If I don't fulfill my omega duties a punishment will definitely succeed in making my bad day a whole lot worse.

So I have to suck it up, like usual. What else is new? So much for that optimism crap.

I start into the pack dining room, as soon as I enter a few wolves get up and leave their meals just for the sake of not having to be around me.

I don't really mind this time, seeing as how my face is swollen and splotched from my crying. A constant sniffling assail me as I go.

There are about 40 wolves living in here, all of them are snobs who have never lifted a finger in their life.

I try to keep my mind centered on the mop in my hand, dunking it in the water then scrubbing the floors with aggression. My goal is to have them void of any dirt, just like my mind. Right now that dirt is my no good mate.

What a freaking jerk.

My cleaning journey leads me to the lounge. I don't spot anyone in the room, so I swiftly enter, dragging my mop bucket behind me.

After I sweep the mop over the ground a few times, I hear a troubling racket. Laughing.

Not just any laughing, rambunctious off the walls annoying cackling. Nathaniel Green stands in the doorway with his pack of snotty friends that never seem to be far.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the little freak show? How you doing, omega? Miss me?" He snorts and I can't help but feel absolutely nothing. My heart is a wreck, so destroyed that I have no comebacks left inside of me.

He stares at me for a while, his eyes maliciously leering at me.

"What? Got nothin to say, huh?" Nathan presses, stalking towards me like a beast hunting its prey, "Disrespect to the future Alpha is not tolerated, runt. Maybe I'll teach you a lesson myself this time."

Him and his pack of losers draw nearer, closing in on me. I feel my back graze the wall, I have nowhere to run. Of all days for this to happen, this is when fate decides I need to get my butt kicked.

Then the Alpha's beloved first born son is in front of me, tan fingers snaking out to tangle in my hair. They clamp down into a tight fist, pulling my locks savagely away from my skull. I feel some strands tear lose, causing me to whimper in pain.

"If you really don't want me to teach you a lesson, you should probably start begging now." He taunts me, and his friends howl out encouraging laughs. They all crowd me, and the heat of their bodies and noise of their wild chuckling throws me off balance.

When my knees buckle I nearly fall to the ground, only to be caught by my neck and pinned to the wall roughly. The impact of my back to the wallpaper knocks my breath out.

Panic starts to set in as my situation becomes more dire. Pleading for mercy seems to be my only option. I swallow my pride against Nathan's tight grip, and open my mouth.

"Please." I wheeze, suddenly realizing that I'm begging for the second time today. I just hope that Nathan Green is more forgiving, but deep down I know I am in terrible trouble. There is nothing I can possibly say or do to save myself now.

"Again, freak." He demands, eyes ablaze with evil. I whimper in reply. Nathan shakes me roughly, one hand in my hair and the other tethered to my neck.

"Again!"

"Please, Nathan! Please just let me go!" I whine, feeling sickened by myself. I am weak. Pathetic. Ezra was right, man was he right.

"Louder." He hisses, and I wriggle in his grasp as I cry.

"Please!" The shouted plea is followed by a scream of agony as his fist collides with my torso. Ouch.

"Hmmm..." He taps his chin in mock consideration.

"No."

After a few strong hits, blood seeps from my mouth, dribbling down my chin like a bright ruby faucet.

I'm barely coherent as I hear the others cheer, coaxing their leader to keep going, to hit harder.

And he doesn't disappoint.

The next slam collides with my face, I feel my teeth clatter together and my skull ricochet off the wall. The laughter booms mythodically in my head, fading in and out as I float in a world of torment.

I'm barely aware of Nathan barking out a command, and the hands wrapping around my arms and hair as I'm slung around. I'm sea sick as I'm carried to more torture, if I thought my face was swollen from the crying earlier I'm definitely in for it now.

I can already feel my features swelling from the few hits that caught my face.

Smelling the maple trees and hearing the wind blow, I know we're in the woods. After a few minutes, I'm dropped onto the ground like a sack of potatoes. An "oof" sound escapes me, and I clutch my side as a stone digs into my skin.

I have no time to recover before I'm being kicked harshly. Yelping and covering my head do no good. I'm jabbed and hit and yanked around.

I feel like nothing. A helpless little nothing.

Ezra was right, I am nothing but a weak omega. Tears shed from my eyes once more as I remember his rejection and insults. He could never be caught in a situation like this.

The snickers roar louder as a foot hurls into my chest over and over again until I feel something give way, I spit blood as I scream out. My call of pain is rewarded with another kick, this time to the face. Then another. Then another.

Just when I'm starting to think that the suffering will never end, they've had enough. They leave me alone, sprawled out on the ground to bleed.

My blood mixes with the dirt, and it clings to my body. I try to call out for help, I try to sob, but my body throbs so painfully, so I don't even bother continuing to try anymore.

It's useless to try. I deserve this. I've disappointed myself. I couldn't even get my mate to love me. If he did, maybe he would've been by my side. This attack might have been prevented, and if it hadn't, maybe he would come looking for me.

When he would find me, he would fuss over me, cradle me, care for me. But that will never ever happen because I'm a weak omega freak that no one wants.

Silent tears run down my face as I lay curled beneath the cover of the trees. The sun sets slowly, the temperature gradually dropping, and still I lay here. Hours pass before I'm able to drift into a deep sleep.

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If you're reading this, I love you:)