Rejected by the Beta: Book 1

By Bella Lore

For as long as Isabel can remember, she’s been a rogue. Her parents are deceased; she has no pack, no mate, and no one at all except for her older brother Ben. She’s grown used to being a nobody, the butt of others’ jokes, and for the most part, alone.

But during a routine errand gone wrong, Isabel stumbles onto a pack’s territory and comes face to face with a fierce—and devastatingly attractive—shifter the likes of which she’s never seen or felt.

Isabel is certain this is her mate. But will he accept her, a nobody rogue? Or will he reject her to maintain his status in his pack?

With growing danger at every turn, Isabel finds herself in the center of a desperate war between amassing rogues and a fearsome pack, working not only to uncover the mystery of what happened to her once-happy family, but to win over the man she is certain is the love of her life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bella Lore
• Release date: Mar 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9781094394022

Book preview

cover.jpg

R E J E C T E D   B Y   T H E   B E T A

(Book 1)

B e l l a   L o r e

Bella Lore

Debut author Bella Lore is the paranormal romance author of the MY TRUE MATE series, comprising four books, THE ALPHA’S MATE series, comprising four books; the REJECTED BY THE BETA series, comprising four books; and THE LUNA’S CHOICE.

Bella loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit bellaloreauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

Copyright © 2022 by Bella Lore. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Ironika, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

BOOKS BY BELLA LORE

MY TRUE MATE

MY TRUE MATE (Book #1)

MY TRUE MATE (Book #2)

MY TRUE MATE (Book #3)

MY TRUE MATE (Book #4)

THE ALPHA’S MATE

THE ALPHA’S MATE (Book #1)

THE ALPHA’S MATE (Book #2)

THE ALPHA’S MATE (Book #3)

THE ALPHA’S MATE (Book #4)

REJECTED BY THE BETA

REJECTED BY THE BETA (Book #1)

REJECTED BY THE BETA (Book #2)

REJECTED BY THE BETA (Book #3)

REJECTED BY THE BETA (Book #4)

THE LUNA’S CHOICE

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY ONE

CHAPTER FORTY TWO

CHAPTER FORTY THREE

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

CHAPTER FORTY SIX

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

CHAPTER FORTY NINE

CHAPTER FIFTY

CHAPTER ONE

Hey Izzy, Clyde calls to me from the kitchen. Sharon’s on break. Take table 12, yeah?

I cringe a little. I hate being called Izzy. But I put on my best fake-sweet smile and tell him, Of course, Clyde. Then I tighten my apron and hurry off to take their order.

Clyde is a rogue, like me. But that’s pretty much where the similarities end. In fact, Clyde is the only rogue around here that gets any sort of respect, since he owns the diner and it’s a popular spot for wolves and humans alike.

He knows I hate being called Izzy. But I don’t call him on it because I need the money and he’s the only one that was willing to give me a job.

In the interview, he asked me what experience I had.

None, was my answer.

That’s the answer to a lot of questions in my life.

Experience? None.

Pack? None.

Parents? None.

Mate? None.

I hurry back towards table 12 to take their lunch order. I’m halfway there when I feel a steely grip of two fingers pinching my butt, hard. Hard enough for me to yelp. I spin, an involuntary snarl on my lips. But my face immediately goes slack when I see the identity of the butt-pincher.

A guy with sandy hair and penetrating green eyes grins up at me from a table with two other snickering guys. I know this face. He’s the Gamma of the nearby pack, and comes in at least once a week with his two top fighters to powwow and talk trash on rogues.

He’s handsome. He’s strong. He smells like heaven. He’s also an utter, irredeemable jackass.

Sorry, the Gamma says, and he smiles up at me.

Wait. Sorry? Did the Gamma just actually apologize to me?

Then his smile turns to a sneer. "I thought you were somebody else. Turns out you’re nobody. My mistake." He and his buddies have a good laugh at that.

And me, I bite my tongue. Literally, I bite it, almost hard enough to draw blood, because it’s the only way to keep me from saying something I might regret. Someone like him would kill someone like me for far less than an unkind word, and not even Clyde would dare try to stop him.

So, I say nothing, and I let him laugh, and I go wait on table 12 because it’s my job. The only thing I have.

Because that’s me. Izzy the Nobody.

*

It’s near closing time and I’m counting out the register when Clyde sidles over to me and says, Hey Izzy…

It’s Isabel, I mutter under my breath. But if he hears it, he ignores me.

Do me a favor. He holds up a manila envelope, thickly padded, folded over on itself and wrapped in red tape. Drop this off for me?

I want to scoff but instead I clear my throat. Clyde, you know I don’t have a car.

I know. He almost sounds apologetic. Almost. But I have tickets to the game and I’m already running late.

This isn’t the kind of thing I can say no to, is it? I ask him.

He flashes me a smile that says, Not if you want to keep your job, and drops the envelope beside the register. You remember where the drop point is?

I do.

Good girl. Another flash of teeth, and Clyde scoots out the door.

Good girl. Like I’m a child. I’m twenty, for Goddess’s sake, not that anyone knows that or cares.

Fifteen minutes later I turn out the lights, lock the diner door behind me, and step out into the pleasant spring night. It’s only then that I notice I’m still wearing my apron over my uniform, which is just a white t-shirt and black pants and black sneakers. I smell like burgers and fries and I swear the scent will never wash out of my hair, but at least I’m finished for the day.

Or almost finished. Just this one thing to do.

The envelope, stuffed thick and wrapped in red tape, is Clyde’s monthly payment to the nearby pack. Years ago he struck a deal with their Alpha that he could open and operate the diner close to their turf, and that it would be a peaceful place, no fighting or conflict, in return for his monthly stipends.

The drop point is three miles away. Luckily I’m pretty fast and I like running, so I take off in that direction. I could run a lot faster if I shifted, but what would I do with the envelope? Put it in my mouth? Then it’d be all soggy. Not to mention the red tape might break, and then the Alpha himself would come around, asking if the money was tampered with.

So I run in human form, feeling the breeze in my hair. And as I run, I daydream. I know it sounds geeky and I don’t care. When you have nothing, hope is all you have to hang onto. So I retreat into my own mind, going back to that magical daydream I’ve had since I turned eighteen -- that I would find him, the one I could call mine, and he would whisk me off my feet, take me somewhere far from here.

My Prince Charming.

My happily ever after.

My mate.

Of course it’s just a fantasy. It’s been two years, and thanks to my job at the diner I’ve probably met every male wolf in a fifty-mile radius at one point or another. I know that he must be out there, somewhere. But somewhere could be Sri Lanka, for all I know.

I slow to a trotting pace, not because I’m winded but because I should almost be at the drop point by now, and I realize the path I’m on is not familiar to me. I usually take a shortcut along a jogging route through the park but this path is worn dirt, not paved, and the trees lining it are larger, thicker than they should be, wild and unmanicured.

Did I take a wrong turn? Was I so deep in my own head that I wasn’t watching where I was going? Where the heck am I?

I bet most girls would be freaked out if they realized they were lost in the woods alone at night. But I like the nighttime, and I see a lot better in the dark than during the day. In fact, my vision is so good at night that I easily spot the mark on a nearby tree.

To any human, it would look like a strangely colored, misshapen knot. But to my keen vision, it very clearly looks like a brown paw-print.

Oh crap, I mutter, and an instant later I catch a scent on the breeze. It’s the unmistakable musk of a wolf.

I’ve wandered onto pack territory. And I’ve served the arrogant Gamma lunch enough times to know that the penalty for a trespassing rogue is capture… or death.

CHAPTER TWO

The howl that interrupts my thoughts a second later is enough to jumpstart my legs back into action. The pitch and timbre of a howl can mean a lot of things, and that howl sends a shiver down my spine and a spring into my step, because it means only one thing: I’m being hunted.

I vault forward down the path for a few yards before I realize how completely idiotic it is for me to keep following the path. I mean, that’s like trying to break out of jail by making a run for the front door.

So I veer off the worn path and between two trees. I hear something, a rapid rustling that’s way too close for comfort. My pursuer is gaining on me.

My brain is in overdrive as I keep running, my survival instincts kicking.

Movement, to my right. More rustling. Another pursuer.

My heartbeat doubles. My lungs burn, but I can’t stop. This can’t be how it ends for me.

The next howl is closer, so close it sounds like an alarm blaring in my own head. I crash through the woods, painfully aware that I’m making enough noise to wake the whole forest.

The sound of panting joins my own and I dare to glance behind me. An enormous wolf with sable-colored fur is hot on my heels. In only two paces I feel his hot breath on my calves.

I try to put on a burst of speed but the wolf leaps. In one powerful bound he jumps clear over me, landing gracefully just a few paces ahead of me, blocking my escape.

I freeze in the spot as the wolf stalks me, murder in his eyes.

I make a split-second decision.

Correction: I make a really stupid split-second decision.

Instead of stopping, I bolt forward, and just before I reach the wall of fur and muscle in front of me, I kick out my right leg. My black sneaker connects solidly with the wolf’s chin. He yelps and rolls and I keep on running.

You idiot! I scream at myself in my head. You went and hurt one of them! You’re so dead now!

Any chance I might have had of explaining myself is gone. I can only hope I’ll reach the border before they catch me… and that they stop chasing me.

Aha! My apron!

As I run, I tear at the tied strings around my waist with my free hand. It’s a ridiculous plan, but it just might be ridiculous enough to work. I yank the apron off and I toss it to my right.

Then I cut left.

However, I come to a flying halt when a tall man steps in front of me

He glowers down at me, his hair and features dark. His gaze angry. A lip curled in a snarl.

And I know it’s a weird thought, but at that moment my brain kind of short-circuits and I think, Well, at least I’ll be killed by the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

He wears dark jeans and a white t-shirt that almost glows in the moonlight. The short sleeves strain against impressive biceps snaked with dark tattoos that I can’t quite make out.

I can feel how angry he is, and I can’t seem to move.

He tilts his head slightly, as if trying to figure something out, and I catch a glimpse of his eyes. They’re blue, but ridiculously blue, and gazing into them is like floating on a crystal-clear lake in the summer.

 Who are you? His voice is a scratchy growl and I find myself shifting back because he clearly expects an answer.

So maybe he won’t kill me right off the bat.

 I – I didn’t mean to trespass, I babble, sweating through my clothes right, frightened out of my mind.

 But you did trespass, He growls, taking a step closer to me. You are a rogue.

My heart is beating fast but it’s not just fear. It’s something else that I can’t put my finger on. A strange excitement that has my wolf sitting up.

 I- yes – but it’s not what you think, I try to explain, backing away. I didn’t mean to come here.

 If it was a mistake, you shouldn’t have run, He narrows his eyes at me.

I swallow, wetting my cracked lips, admitting, Well, yes. Fair point. But in my defense, I thought you were going to kill me for trespassing so I just- I make a flying motion with my hands, ran.

He narrows his eyes at me, Is this amusing to you?

 No, I say, slowly. I’m terrified. But I have this problem of talking a lot when I’m scared and you’re kind of scary and I think you still might kill me and –

For a moment, I feel like the corner of his lips twitches.

 You’re acting pretty guilty, He finally says.

 Defense mechanism, I say, instantly. I have that face.

 Fine, He stops, a few feet away from me. Give me a good reason not to kill you. Why are you in this territory?

I blink, some of the fear having faded away and I remember the real reason why I am in this situation. I

hold out the package.

I had to drop this off, I’m beginning to feel a bit nervous again. For your Alpha.

 What is this? His voice is hard as he steps closer.

His scent becomes clearer. Intoxicating. And suddenly I'm deeply ashamed of my own grease smell and I’m beginning to feel this strange tightness in my chest.

I try to get the words out but I can’t.

Well? He lifts a brow, his eyes flashing.

D-Diner, I stammer, feeling very overwhelmed all of a sudden. From the diner.

He reaches for the package. As he does, his finger grazes mine.

An electric tingle sizzles down my spine, from the base of my brain all the way to my feet, making my knees weak on the way. I feel dizzy for a moment.