LOGIN“I, Lia Volkov, reject you…” “You’re being serious right now?” He asked, stopping her. “Do I look like I’m joking?” She asked, her eyes hardening. “I am going to reject you… and you, Alpha, are going to accept it…” *********************************** Marcel was bred to be a weapon. A fighter. An executioner. The Alpha sent where rogues needed to be destroyed. He never questioned it. Rogues were chaos. A stain on wolfkind. They were not to be protected, only eliminated. And he would never mate one. Until his wolf chose her. She is everything he was meant to end. A rogue with no pack, no protection, and no place in his world. The bond ignites against his will, only for her to be the one to reject… But as the line between hunter and protector is shattered. Because their kind wants her dead. The rogues want her claimed. And Marcel’s wolf will no longer be silenced. She was never meant to survive him. Yet she may be the one thing that brings him to his knees.
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I didn’t stop running.
My shoes struck dirt and gravel, lungs burning, pulse roaring in my ears as branches snapped back against my jacket. My pants were torn at the knee, streaked with mud and blood I didn’t remember earning. I hadn’t worn dresses in a long time. That version of me had died the night my father cast me out. The night where my whole life had changed.
Alphas weren’t meant to become rogues.
Yet here I was.
Hunted from every side, pushed into a darkness that I didn’t know I could survive.
The forest blurred as I pushed harder, ignoring the sharp protest in my legs. Behind me, somewhere beyond the dark, there were always footsteps. If not wolves sent by the Council, then rogues eager to cash in on my name. An Alpha-born rogue was worth more alive than dead, at least to the right people.
My own blood had decided that much.
The bond hit without warning.
It slammed into my spine, white-hot and violent, stealing the breath from my lungs. I staggered, catching myself against a tree as my vision swam.
No.
My wolf recoiled, snarling in instinctive fury, not submission. I didn’t need the pull tugging at my chest to know what it was. I’d felt bonds before, watched others kneel to them.
This one felt like a challenge.
Like war.
I turned slowly, already knowing who stood there.
Marcel Del Gardi.
The one person who always found me, and yet, always kept me alive despite his reputation.
“You know, running is not going to get you far.” He said, and I scoffed, wanting to run back. But my wolf wouldn’t allow it.
“Then follow up to that reputation of yours and end this.” I said, glaring at him.
“You and I both know that I can.” He said casually. “I am choosing not to for one reason, which you, just like me, feel.”
Even in the dark, he was unmistakable. Power rolled off him in suffocating waves, Alpha dominance honed into something sharp and merciless. This was the man sent to end conflicts the world didn’t want named. The fighter who wiped out rogue camps and never asked questions afterward.
The irony almost made me laugh.
My mate.
His gaze locked onto me, and I felt his wolf surge forward, claiming, demanding, recognizing what the world had decided to make forbidden.
“Well, then… I reject you,” I said, my voice rough but steady. “I won’t be claimed. Not by an Alpha who was meant to destroy me. Not by anyone in this world that knows nothing but death and hypocrisy.”
The bond screamed in protest. But he didn’t speak, not at first.
For the first time since I’d turned around, something flickered across his face. Surprise. Maybe disbelief. His jaw tightened, breath drawing in as if he intended to answer, perhaps to reject me back, perhaps worse. “You are being serious right now?”
“Yes, now… accept the rejection.”
“Say it formally then.” He said, taking a step toward me. “If you mean it, that is…”
“I, Lia Volkov, reject you as my mate.” I said, glaring at him.
He never got the chance to respond, though. And I never got the chance to run.
Growls rose from the trees.
Not one.
Many.
My blood went cold.
Rogues burst from the shadows, eyes wild, movements reckless with hunger and greed. One of them hit me hard from the side, claws ripping across my arm as I went down. Pain tore through me, bright and blinding. I fought back on instinct, kicking, twisting, but another shape lunged…
It never reached me.
The night suddenly turned into something that I could have never imagined.
Marcel moved like something unleashed.
I saw flashes through the pain, bodies crashing into trees, bones breaking, snarls cut off abruptly. He didn’t fight like a man protecting territory. He fought like a weapon fulfilling its purpose, every strike final, every movement devastating.
For me.
By the time the last body hit the ground, the forest had gone deathly quiet.
I tried to push myself up, wanting to run. My strength failed me, not allowing me to take one step forward.
Strong arms caught me, lifting me with effortless ease. His hold was solid, unyielding, nothing like the hesitation I’d expected.
The world tilted, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision. “Let me go.” I whispered as he held me to his chest, his wolf meeting my own despite the informal rejection.
“You’re safe now,” he said, low and absolute, as if safety were something he could command into existence. “I’ll be sure of it, little wolf…”
I didn’t believe him.
But my body betrayed me anyway as everything went black.
Lia:His room did not feel like his room anymore.It felt like somewhere I could breathe.And the fact that he was quiet didn’t make it any easier for me not to overthink the number of things that I had in mind.I sat on the edge of his bed, my fingers brushing over the embroidery on the blanket, tracing the pattern without really seeing it. My thoughts were still with the girls, Kylie’s hesitant voice, the way the younger one had looked at me like I had handed her something she had never been allowed to have.A choice.The door closed behind me.I didn’t have to look up to know it was him.His scent reached me first.Warm. Familiar.Safe.I lifted my eyes slowly.Marcel wasn’t heading toward his desk.He wasn’t reaching for reports.He walked straight to me.Each step felt deliberate.Heavy.Intent.My heart picked up its pace without permission.“You didn’t have to do that,” he said quietly. “What you did today…”I frowned slightly. “Do what?”“The girls. The kindness that you showe
Marcel:I had watched other women choosing slaves around and about.I grew up watching my mother having them trained, brought in, and even sent to my room…I watched a few grow up, being brought in from the world that they lived in to be slaves here within he pack…But never in my life did I see such gentleness, understanding, and sympathy toward the women, who in theory, should have been in the lowest of ranks.She didn’t raise her voice.Didn’t posture.Didn’t try to prove power.She spoke softly, carefully, like every word mattered. Like the girls in front of her mattered. She didn’t treat them like they were tools for to serve her, nor did she treat them like they were slaves to listen to what she said… she treated them like they were people.And they felt it.I saw it in the way their shoulders loosened, just a fraction. In the way their eyes followed her, not with fear, but with something dangerously close to hope, something that begged for her to be the one to take them in.She
Lia:The room felt too quiet the moment I stepped inside.Not peaceful, tight. Like every breath was being measured, controlled. The girls stood in a neat line, eyes lowered, shoulders drawn back the way people stand when they’ve learned that stillness keeps them alive.I hated how familiar it felt.The fact that though I had never been a slave, that I had to choose ones who escorted me when I was younger.Marcel stayed beside me, close enough that I could feel him without looking. His presence was steady, grounding, like he was there in case my knees decided to give out.“You don’t have to choose today,” he said quietly. “You can walk away. No one will force this. You can think about it and make your choice when you’re ready.”I shook my head before he could finish.“If I walk away,” I murmured, “nothing changes. Because I will be honest, nothing about something like this is ever going to be easy for me.”His jaw tightened, but he let me go.I walked slowly in front of them, forcing
Isobel:When Marcel came to see me, I welcomed him the way I always did.With open arms.“My son, welcome home.” I said softly, rising from my seat.“How are you, mother?” He asked softly, taking my hand in his, kissing my knuckle. I smiled and put my hand on his shoulder, my heart feeling content for the first time in days seeing as he was back and safe.“Now that you are back, I am well.” I said, watching as he took a step back. “Come. Sit with me for a while. You got back from a long few days, I believe. Tell me how your days went.”He did.And I smiled as one of the maids served him a glass of wine. He took a sip of the drink and set the glass down, nodding at the maid in thanks.We spoke of neutral things at first, patrols, borders, the usual rhythm of a pack that never truly slept. He told me about the rogues he’d driven back, about tightening watch along the eastern grounds. I listened, nodding, asking the right questions.I knew he wasn’t telling me everything.He never had.N






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