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CHAPTER 9: MY MATE...?
publish date:
2026-09-23 08:16:11
Latest chapter
THE WORST REJECTION EVER. CHAPTER 10: BAD TIMING
Moving in sync when you absolutely hate the person next to you is an extreme sport. Navigating to the penthouse's massive open-concept living area takes us five minutes of stumbling, muttered insults, and complaints about my stride length versus his.The place is disgustingly elegant. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline, white leather furniture that screams don't stain me, and a kitchen featuring a black marble island so shiny I can see my own disastrous reflection in it. Before leaving the bedroom, I grabbed the first piece of clothing I saw lying in his closet to fight off the freezing AC. It’s a heavy black silk robe with Alistair's initials embroidered in silver on the pocket. It swallows me like a tent, dragging across the floor, but it is ridiculously comfortable.Alistair sets his laptop up on the glass dining table. He’s wearing a perfectly ironed white button-down shirt and a navy blue tie. From the waist down, he’s still rocking the grey sweatpants and bare
THE WORST REJECTION EVER. CHAPTER 9: MY MATE...?
"Alistair! I demand an explana—!"The hysterical yell from the doorway barely registers in my sleep-fogged brain. My street-level survival instinct, combined with the absolute irritation of being woken up before eight in the morning, takes control of my right arm. I blindly grab the first thing I find on the mattress. It’s a heavy pillow, stuffed with something disgustingly expensive. Without opening my eyes, I wind up and launch it with all my strength at the source of the noise.The dull thwack of silk smacking into flesh and bone echoes through the room."Shut the damn door!" I yell, burying my face back into the warm mattress. "You’re letting the AC out.""Insolent wretch!" an old, indignant voice roars.I crack one eye open, blinking against the hallway light invading the dim bedroom. Magnus is standing in the doorway, face red with fury, the goose-down pillow lying at his feet. The ancient Alpha is gripping his silver-handled cane so hard his knuckles are pure white.The body be
THE WORST REJECTION EVER. CHAPTER 8: WOLVES AT THE WHEEL
Sleep swallows me like a dark pit. My human consciousness, full of debt, sarcasm, and defense mechanisms, powers down.That's when she wakes up.In the blackness of my mind, my wolf opens one golden eye. She stretches lazily, shaking out her fur. Finally. Took her forever to shut up, the beast murmurs, grabbing the steering wheel of my body.In the real world, my human eyes stay closed, but my body responds to a much more primal command. The wolf hates the cold AC. She hates the edge of the bed. And above all else, she hates being away from her mate.Through the magic bond, my wolf catches a signal. An energetic vibration from the other side of the massive mattress. Alistair’s wolf just took the wheel, too. The Alpha's hyperactive, playful beast has waited hours for this exact moment, crushed under his human's neurotic self-control.Hello? my wolf howls mentally, twitching her nose.HELLO! Alistair's wolf replies with the energy of a locked-up puppy. It's cold. The human is boring. Co
THE WORST REJECTION EVER. CHAPTER 7: THE WAR FOR THE SILK DUVET
We survived the bathroom disaster only to face a worse hell: bedtime.A violent yank nearly rips me off the mattress. Alistair grabs the silk duvet and yanks it with pure territorial Alpha strength, leaving me exposed to the penthouse’s arctic air. The cold raises goosebumps on my skin. My wolf growls at the offense. I don't think twice. I half-extend the claws on my right hand, dig my fingers into the pearl-grey fabric, and yank back.The sharp sound of three-thousand-dollar silk tearing right down the middle echoes through the massive, dark room."You're insane!" Alistair spits, sitting bolt upright. The motion-sensor lights flicker on, blinding me for a second. "That cover was handmade in Italy.""And my core temperature requires me not to die of hypothermia," I reply, wrapping my half of the shredded duvet around my shoulders like a human burrito. "You have the AC set to sixty-five degrees, rich boy. What are you, a penguin with anger issues?""I am a wolf, Violeta. My internal te
THE WORST REJECTION EVER. CHAPTER 6: AN EXCITED WOLF
The steam has already turned the bathroom into a sauna. I finish my business, flush, and step over to the sink to wash my hands. Alistair is still under the spray of water.Suddenly, I hear him grunt. It isn't a growl aimed at me. It's an internal protest."Shut up," Alistair mutters, slamming a closed fist against the glass wall.I raise an eyebrow, picking up his black-bristled toothbrush."I didn't say anything, rich boy. I'm busy deciding whether to use your organic mint toothpaste or let my fangs rot.""I'm not talking to you," he growls again, jerking his head sharply to the left like he's arguing with someone invisible. "I'm talking to this insufferable furball in my head."My wolf lets out a mental giggle. His wolf is mocking him.Alistair rubs his face beneath the silk blindfold. His inner wolf, who clearly has way more energy and less shame than he does, is pushing against his mental barriers. Wolves don't understand human modesty. To his beast, hiding from his fated mate be
THE WORST REJECTION EVER. CHAPTER 5: HEALTHY COHABITATION
"If you don't open this damn door in the next three seconds, Alistair, I swear to the Moon Goddess I am going to piss directly into your Italian shoes."I kick the solid mahogany with the sole of my boot. The echo rings down the entire hallway of the Alpha's ridiculous mansion. My bladder is on the verge of declaring independence. Getting to this penthouse after leaving the pizza joint was a logistical hell thanks to the disgusting cosmic magnet, and now my body is demanding I empty out the pizza and cola I just had for dinner.The lock clicks. The door is yanked open.Alistair is standing in the doorway. His black hair is a mess, dark circles shadow his sharp cheekbones, and he’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His torso is completely bare. My brain registers his abs—carved like blocks of granite—but my bladder is screaming a hell of a lot louder than my hormones."Do you have to yell like a savage at three in the morning?" the great Alpha grumbles, pinchin
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