Five years ago, Cassia was cast out of Blackridge Pack, rejected by her fated mate, stripped of rank, and left to fend for herself in a world that hunts lone wolves. She didn’t beg. She didn’t look back. She ran, with his child growing inside her. Now she’s returned, not with one pup, but two. Twins, cloaked in scent masking spells and secrets, she reenters the territory she swore never to see again. The Alpha who broke her? He’s still ruling with ruthless control. But Cassia isn’t the girl he banished, and Kade isn’t the man she remembers. Their chemistry is still deadly. Their past, unfinished. But this isn’t just a second chance romance. As Cassia tries to protect her children from a pack that would use them, she begins to uncover the truth: only one of the twins is hers. The other? Engineered by the Council. Created from stolen Alpha blood. Designed to destroy or save the future of the shifter world. And Kade may have known all along. Blistering with sexual tension, layered betrayals, and supernatural politics, The Alpha’s Rejected Mate Returns with Twins is a dark, addictive slow burn perfect for fans of morally gray Alphas, secret-baby twists, jealous rivals, and prophecies gone wrong.
view moreNot the soft kind of regret. Not the kind that makes you wish you'd sent a letter or made that one last phone call. No. This was the kind of regret that gnawed at bone, lived in the bloodstream, never really let go.I watched it tear through him, inch by inch. And I hated that part of me still cared.“Move,” I said, quieter now, my voice scraping at the edges of my restraint.“No.” One word. Flat and final. It hit like a slammed door.“Kade...”“You left.” The words cracked from his throat like something unhealed. His voice faltered, just enough to make me still. “You didn’t give me a chance.”The weight of it hung between us, thick with everything we hadn’t said in five years. I didn’t rush to answer. I let the silence stretch, let his words hang like smoke in the air. Let them sink in and spoil.Because he had the audacity to say that.He had the gall to talk about chances.“You didn’t give me a choice.” I didn’t yell it. The truth had a way of cutting cleaner when whispered. And it
The pack house hadn’t changed.Still all sharp corners and polished wood. Still that curated sterility beneath the surface, like it had been built not to shelter, but to impress. A place meant for display, not for warmth. Every line of it too crisp, too clean. Just like him.I lingered in the doorway of the guest room longer than I needed to, letting the hush of the space settle around me. Nova was tucked on her side, lashes fluttering faintly, lost in a dream I’d never be able to protect her from. Leo slept close, his fingers curled loosely against her ribs, the soft sound of his breath matching hers like they shared a single heartbeat. Even in sleep, they reached for each other. Always touching. Always connected.They didn’t know how close we were to danger. Again. And if I was honest, I didn’t know either.I let out a breath, quiet and shaky, then pulled the door closed with a soft click. The silence in the hallway felt deeper than it should’ve, like the whole house was holding its
This was flame-wreckage and steel. This was a woman who had bled, hard, and kept walking.And fuck, my body remembered, even after all this time.Even now.All of her hit like a drug I didn’t want to need.She looked older. Not aged. Seasoned and mythic.Her hair had grown out. No longer the tightly braided rope I used to pull when she got too mouthy, but a loose silver fall, wild and windswept, reaching down to her waist like a banner. She didn’t braid it anymore, didn’t hide it, didn’t care who saw her coming.And that, that right there, was the worst part.Because I had no fucking clue who she was now. And I already knew I’d burn my life to the ground to find out.The coat she wore was too big on her, but it worked. Black wool, cinched at the waist, skimming over hips that had sharpened, legs long and braced like she was ready to either bolt or throw someone through a wall. And Gods, she would’ve. She’d always been that kind of woman. Fight or flight with no warning.And her face,
The wind shifted, and everything in me stilled.One foot hung mid-turn, frozen in the dirt. My chest locked. Breath caught. Muscles coiled so tight I swore I heard something in my spine creak. A split second, no longer, and then it hit me. The scent. That godsdamned scent.Lavender and ozone. Rain on hot stone, sweet and wild. It hit like a memory I hadn’t let myself touch in six years. One I’d buried deep and burned the ground over. But it didn’t matter. The moment it reached me, everything inside me surged. Snarling, clawing, the wolf that lived just beneath my skin, the one I’d caged and trained and starved of her, went feral.Cassia.Her name wasn’t just a thought. It detonated, shrapnel in my blood, flame under my skin.I staggered back a step, the air shifted with me. The pack; spars scattered, conversations stalled, went quiet in a ripple of tension. Some of the younger ones frowned, confused, ears twitching at the charge that had crept into the clearing. But the older warriors
He didn’t move right away. Just stood on the other side of the threshold, half-concealed by the snow-dusted trees. The quiet, the shadows, the weight of his presence; it all hit at once, like an old bruise pressed too hard. Her body went taut without her permission.He hadn’t changed. If anything, he looked worse. Or better. Depending on whether you measured beauty by symmetry or threat.His hair was still that inky black, messier now, longer at the sides. That jaw, Gods, that jaw, was a weapon, all hard lines and sharp edges, the kind that could cut or cradle. A charcoal henley stretched tight across his chest, the sleeves shoved up to his elbows like he couldn’t stand to be confined. Combat pants slung low on his hips, the fabric faded and dusted with ash. Heavy black boots dug into the dirt like he’d been waiting for a war to walk through the gates.And then there was his face.Brutal. Unforgiving. Built for battle. The kind of face people either ran from or swore their lives to.T
The scent hit her first. Pine smoke and storm winds, cold and biting, threaded through the air like a warning. Sharp. Unmistakable. Dangerous. It coiled around her before she even saw the gates, wrapping itself around her ribs and squeezing until her breath caught.Cassia stilled at the edge of the trees, boots sinking slightly into the damp, moss-slick earth. Her grip instinctively tightened around the two smaller hands in hers. Muddy, restless, unaware of the storm beginning to churn low in her chest. The wind whispered through the branches above, brushing over her skin with the same voice she remembered from a lifetime ago. One that still knew her name.Beside her, two pairs of small feet shifted impatiently, crunching twigs and damp leaves beneath them. Behind them, the crumbling remains of the old highway stretched back into the hills like a broken spine. Cracked, swallowed by time and the kind of silence that came only after fire. Everything behind them was gone. Burned to ash.
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