The Alpha's Rejected Silent Mate

Chapter 51

Chapter 51

It’s been months since Winter has been gone and I’ve gotten myself a regular job in a cafe as a barista of all things. Can you imagine that? I never would have thought I would have to be as responsible as I now am, taking care

of the bills and still going to school at the same time. Is this how Winter had felt every day when she had done all the

household chores and responsibilites?

“Thanks, have a good one” one of my regulars yelled out as they left, the last customer of the night, and I closed the door gratefully and locked it. Now all I have to do is clean up and I’m done for the night. It doesn’t take long, I’ve

got myself into a regular routine and before I know it, I’ve put my coat on and ducked out the door. Brrr it’s slightly

cold and I shiver, putting my hands in my pockets.

I walk home slowly. It’s otherwise a beautiful night and the stars are twinkling overhead. I don’t bother to use

the car anymore. Not when I can avoid it anyway. Walking saves gas and means I have more money to take care of the

bills. Besides, it’s not like home is that far away and I’m not frightened that someone’s going to jump me. I’m a shifter for heaven’s sake, not to mention, the town is mainly made up of pack members and shifters.

I stared at my house, feeling strangely hesitant. It looks so uninviting and cold. Then again, it’s felt that way since Winter’s been gone. I never really saw just how having my little sister around made the house feel more like a home. I miss her laughter and her smiles, even if her smiles were rare and few and far between. I miss Winter. I miss

more than I ever

keys away in the entrance hall, turning on the lights.

that the house is dark when I get home. I really should remember to at least leave the front porch light on, but it always seems to slip my mind. Sigh, the refrigerator is practically empty.

My stomach growls. Damn

house and it doesn’t belong to me. It’s not Winter’s either.

I can’t quite place it. It’s definitely not father’s, I’d know the smell of that bastard anywhere. It seems to be throughout the entire house. Has someone broken in

again, it’s not like there’s anything

sniffed and began to do a methodical search of the rooms, my body tensed and poised to fight. But there was no

I’m not going to shy away like a coward. But why the hell is this scent so familiar to me? It’s like I’ve smelt this

I can’t for the life of me

door leading down to

are in for one hell of a beating. I

to ambush me, the smell getting increasingly stronger. I have no doubt that there’s someone waiting down here for me and my eyes continually

to shift at a second’s notice. I reach the bottom of the stairs and begin to move forward, ears pricked for the

I’ve never gotten around to replacing the light globe that’s

right about now.

junk and furniture that’s

room over the years, but it also contains one other thing

I stare at it. The cage, or more accurately a cell, stands in one corner, made of silver with shackles and restraints against the wall, to keep someone immobile and unable to move. A cell, that I remember with remorse, Winter was often placed in and locked up for what father deemed as misbehaviour. Even now, I

her screams as she pleaded to be let out. The crying. God, my stomach churns to look at it and I resolve

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