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79. LUCAS
Last Updated:
2025-05-08 00:45:33
RajiOh no!
Latest chapter
His Rejected Mate 121. ARIANA
The world outside was painted in soft golden hues of the late afternoon sun. The war had ended. The nightmares had dulled into background noise. And life—however fragile—was beginning to feel real again.Ryan’s soft coos filled the modest cabin’s living room as he stretched his chubby limbs on a blanket laid out beneath the window. Aurora, now a chatterbox of giggles and barefoot adventures, stood near the couch arranging her little animal figurines, completely lost in her own world. Her hair had grown longer, curling into loose spirals that framed her cheeks like the edges of a flower in bloom.I sat cross-legged on the rug, a dish towel still tucked into my waistband, watching them as the late sun slanted through the windows. This peace, this silence—it used to feel foreign, as if it were borrowed time. Now, it felt earned. Fough
His Rejected Mate 120. LUCAS
The dawn was gentle, shy even, as if the world itself was still learning to breathe again. The heavy weight of war had finally lifted from the land, leaving behind a quietness so profound it almost felt sacred. I stood at the edge of the forest, where the trees gave way to rolling fields bathed in the soft, golden light of morning. The pack was slowly waking, laughter and familiar voices drifting on the breeze like a balm for my tired soul.It had been months since the fighting ceased — months since blood stained our lands and fear ruled the nights. Yet the scars remained, invisible to outsiders but etched deeply in the hearts of those who had survived. I could see it in their eyes, in the way they carried themselves: wary, cautious, fragile. Like warriors who had laid down their weapons but still stood alert, listening for shadows that might never come.
His Rejected Mate 119. XAVIER
The night air was cool but heavy, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. The clearing where the ritual would take place had been prepared meticulously — stones arranged in a perfect circle, runes etched deep into the ground, and the Moonstone placed at its heart, glowing with a pale, unyielding light. I could feel the ancient power thrumming beneath my feet, a power both terrifying and necessary.I stood just outside the circle, alongside the witches who would conduct the ritual. Their faces were grave, lips moving in silent prayers as they called upon forces older than time itself. I watched Sophia closely. She sat on the stone pedestal in the center, surrounded by shimmering chains of light designed to contain her even as the ritual stripped her bare.Her silver hair fell in tangled waves around her face, damp with sweat, clinging to her cheeks
His Rejected Mate 118. ARIANA
The clearing was ancient, sacred, and alive. Moonlight poured down through the thick canopy, casting silver webs on the forest floor. The air was crisp, cold in the way only nights after a heavy rain can be — as if the earth itself was holding its breath, waiting for a verdict older than time.At the center of this clearing sat the Moonstone. Smooth and pale, it rested atop a stone pedestal carved with runes older than the oldest witch in our coven. The stone pulsed faintly, as if breathing — glowing softly in response to the ritual about to unfold. This was no ordinary trial. This was divine judgment.Around the Moonstone, the council of witches had gathered in a tight circle. Their hands were linked, fingers entwined with a steady purpose born from centuries of tradition. Their voices rose in a low, hypnotic chant, weaving a tapestry of power and
His Rejected Mate 117. ARIANA
The room was dimly lit, silent except for the flicker of candle flames and the quiet hum of ancient magic vibrating from the spellbound chains. Sophia knelt at the center of the sacred circle — once graceful, now hollow-eyed and disheveled, but still carrying a strange aura that unsettled the air. Her silver hair was tangled, her wrists glowing with the burn of enchantments, but she held her head high, defiant. Smiling.How could she still smile?My fists clenched.I stood a few feet away, surrounded by the witches who had come to decide her fate. Lucas stood behind them, silent as ever. His gaze flicked between me and Sophia like he couldn’t decide who he was more furious with — her for betraying us, or himself for not seeing it coming.Sophia had dest
His Rejected Mate 116. XAVIER
The room was colder than it had any right to be. Not because of the stone walls, or the flickering runes carved into the ground, but because of her.Sophia.She sat cross-legged at the center of the ritual circle, her eyes hollow, her shoulders slack as though the very soul inside her had deflated. She wasn’t bound. No chains. No silver cuffs. No guards.She didn’t need them anymore.The spells carved around her pulsed softly, layered enchantments from witches much older than her own bloodline. Her magic was contained — not destroyed, but dormant. Tethered like a dying star in a cage of ash and salt. She couldn’t cast, she couldn’t shift. And worst of all, she couldn&r
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