Chapter 5 He is the Alpha King

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• Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King   Chapter 480 The Circle Whispers

  ScarlettIt starts with silence. Not quiet. Not stillness. Silence.The kind that presses on your eardrums like water. The kind that says, you’re not alone, but whatever’s here doesn’t want you to hear it coming.I’m in the library. Signe’s, technically, though she lets Cerelia and I come and go as we please.There’s a stack of books open in front of me. Histories of magical bloodlines, half-deciphered Weaving diagrams, and Erik’s notes from his last tethering trance.I was reading. I’m not anymore.Because the room feels wrong now.Too quiet. Too still.There’s no outside wind. No crackling from the hearth. No sound from the floorboards where Erik always paces when he thinks I don’t notice.I straighten. “Hello?”My voice doesn’t echo. It doesn’t carry. It doesn’t even seem to exist.The pages in front of me turn to ash. And then the world bends.Not violently. Nothing too obvious. Just... wrong. Like I blinked, and the library rearranged itself.The books are gone. The shelves stret

• Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King   Chapter 479 You Kiss Like War

  ChrisHe’s laughing when I pin him.That kind of half-choked, breathless sound he only makes when he forgets we’re supposed to be careful.We’re in the room behind the inn. Meant for training, or meditation. But right now it’s filled with the sharp scent of sweat, wolf heat, and the impossible thrum of want beating through both of us.I shouldn’t be doing this. We shouldn’t. Especially not here.But I have him flat on his back, panting, his wrists caught in my hands, and I’m straddling his hips like it’s the most natural thing in the world.And gods help me, it feels like it is.“Chris,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “You’re not being fair.”“You kissed me first.”“You tackled me after.”“I regret nothing.”He smiles, and it breaks something open in my chest.I dip down and kiss him hard, tongue sliding over his like we’ve got nothing left to lose. He groans against my mouth, biting my lower lip as he presses his hips up into mine.The friction makes me gasp.“Fuck,” he breathes.I loosen

• Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King   Chapter 478 Ashkeeper’s Judgment

  Ashkeeper - OmniThe Loom is humming again. Not in song. Not in rhythm. It shudders.The Ashkeeper kneels in the Vault of Threads, hands spread wide above the weave, palms hovering over strands that stretch endlessly in every direction.A thousand stories. A thousand fates. None of them still.The fire-born girl pulses like a spark in the tapestry. Blazing through the future, slicing across possible paths like a comet.Scarlett.She doesn’t say the name aloud. Names are powerful things, especially here.But she knows the girl well now. Watches her. Listens to her echo in the strands.She should have burned out by now.That’s what the patterns said. That’s what the past promised.A creature born of dusk and starfire was never meant to survive her own choosing.But she has.And worse, she keeps choosing both.The Court of Fire should have devoured her. The Weavers should have unraveled her The Circle should have silenced her.None have succeeded.The Ashkeeper’s breath is slow. Measured

• Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King   Chapter 477 Court of Fire

  ScarlettThe world pulls sideways.I’m not asleep. Not dreaming. One second I’m reaching for a cup of water in the kitchen. The next, the cup crashes to the floor, and the walls of the house dissolve around me like ash in the wind.No warning. No magic circle. No familiar pull like the Loom or the Weavers.This is different. This is a summoning.I hit the ground hard.It’s not Raventon beneath me anymore.It’s obsidian.Smooth, black stone rippling with golden veins, warm beneath my hands.I scramble upright. The sky above me is starless and red. Heat rolls in waves off the ground. I smell smoke, salt, something sharp.Then I hear them.Voices.Not one. Many. Layered like flames licking over each other.“Daughter of dusk.”“Child of flame.”“Blood-born. Bound. Buried.”A shape approaches me from the shadows. A tall man cloaked in crimson and gold, skin glowing faintly, like there’s fire trapped beneath the surface.Just like mine.But it’s not his face I’m drawn to. It’s the crown.Fl

• Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King   Chapter 476 The Thread Snaps

  ElliottThe punch isn’t supposed to land.It’s just a drill. Something I’ve done a thousand times. Slow, measured, practice. But something inside me slips, snaps, and my fist connects with the training pad hard enough to send Chris flying.He hits the mat with a sickening thud.“Shit!” I’m on him in seconds. “Chris! Chris, I didn’t mean to-”“I’m okay,” he groans, voice strained. “Just… winded.”His face is pale. He sits up, rubbing his shoulder and doesn’t look at me right away. He’s the warrior prince, I’m the thinker. I have no idea how that just happened.I sit back on my heels, breathing hard. My hands are shaking. I didn’t mean to hit him that hard.I didn’t know I could. If I did I wouldn’t have. I never want to hurt him.“Elliott,” my mother says gently from the sideline, “Take a break.”“I’m fine.”“You’re not.”Chris waves her off. “It’s okay Aunt Cerelia. Really. I shouldn't have dropped my guard.”“No,” I snap. “This wasn’t your fault. I fucked up.”And I hate that the fir

• Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King   Chapter 475 Smoke and Guilt

  ChrisI can feel him behind me before he speaks.The rooftop is cold beneath my palms, the night pressing against my skin like a second coat. I don’t turn. I don’t have to.The weight of Elliott’s presence is enough. His scent is sharp and familiar, a mix of fresh pine and something wild I don’t have a word for.I don’t look at him because I know what I’ll find. Eyes too full. A mouth I’ve already tasted.Hands I haven’t let go of since the night we decided to stop pretending we weren’t already his and mine.He sits beside me without a word.We’re close enough that our shoulders touch, but not enough to settle the ache coiled low in my spine.“I didn’t know where you went,” he says finally.“I needed air.”“You always need air when something’s wrong.”I shrug. “Maybe I just like rooftops.”He doesn’t call me on it.Instead, he leans back on his elbows and tilts his head to the sky. His throat stretches tight under his jaw. The moon catches in his lashes.I want to kiss him.I want to