All Chapters of Embracing His Rejection : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

EmeraldThe cabin was at the very edge of the territory, a place where the trees grew so thick they choked out the sun. It was perfect. It was a tomb above ground.My parents tried to stay. They brought soup that went cold and blankets I kicked to the floor. They tried to hold me, but my skin would crawl until I was screaming, scratching at my own arms to get their "comfort" off me. Eventually, the look of pure, agonizing failure on my father’s face became too much for him to bear. They retreated to the small guest shed fifty yards away, leaving me in the main cabin to rot in peace.But I wasn't alone. I had the memories.Every night, the walls would close in. I could feel Mazz’s breath. I could hear Matthew’s voice telling the pack Natasha was his mate. The two sounds merged into a symphony of betrayal that played on loop.I started with the glass from a broken picture frame.I didn't do it to die, not at first. I did it because the physical sting was the only thing loud enough to dr

MatthewThe silence in the cabin was a physical weight, pressing the air from my lungs. I looked at Emerald, my real mate, and for the first time I did not see the soft-hearted girl who gathered lavender in the meadows. I saw a hollowed out ruin. Her eyes reflected a cold, predatory light that terrified me more than any rogue ever could."Cast her out," she had said.The words echoed in my skull like a death knell. My heart hammered against my ribs, a trapped bird sensing the cage closing in. I looked at Nicholas, who remained frozen by the door. His eyes were wide, caution etched into the hard lines of his face. He was the Alpha. He knew the laws. To cast out a pregnant female, even one whose presence was built on a mountain of deceits, was a death sentence.I would be murdering them.The image of Natasha flashed in my mind. I thought of the terrified girl who had come to me sobbing, begging for a way to hide her shame from a father who would have ended her life for carrying a rogue'

EmeraldThe sterile walls of the infirmary seemed to shrink, the white light burning against my retinas even with my eyes half-closed. The weight in my womb felt like a leaden curse, a heavy, pulsing reminder of the night the world ended.I will do it.The thought was a cold, hard stone in my mind. I didn't care about pack laws. I didn't care about the sanctity of life. To me, this wasn't a life; it was a parasite. It was Mazz’s hands, his breath, and his cruelty given a heartbeat. There was no universe where I would wake up every morning and look into the eyes of a child that carried his features. There was no way I would allow my body to be the vessel that brought his legacy into the world.I waited until the room cleared, until the heavy footsteps of the men had faded down the hall. Only Mathilda remained, adjusting a drip, her face a mask of professional stoicism that couldn't quite hide the pity in her eyes."Mathilda," I rasped. My voice sounded thin, like dry leaves skittering

Matthew I stood before the floor-to-length mirror in my quarters, the heavy ceremonial cloak of the Alpha’s lineage weighing on my shoulders. It felt like a shroud. Every time I closed my eyes, I didn't see a celebration. I saw the way the moonlight had hit the forest floor when I finally found her... broken, silent, and looking at me as if I were the one who had held the blade. I had killed Mazz. I had felt his throat crush under my hands, tasted his blood, and watched the life leave his eyes. But as I stared at my reflection, I knew the truth. Killing him hadn't saved her. It was a hollow victory, a frantic attempt to burn down a house that had already turned to ash. My guilt was a living thing, a parasite that ate at my heart every time I remembered the night I rejected her. If I had just claimed her then, she never would have been alone. "Is this really what you want, Matthew?" I turned to see Nicholas standing in the doorway. He wasn't dressed for a celebration yet; he

Emerald The morning sun was a cruel, bright glare against the frost that had encased the world in glass. When I pulled the curtain back, I saw him. Matthew was still there under the oak tree, his broad shoulders dusted with white, his breath hitching in small, ghostly clouds. He looked like a statue of a fallen king, frozen in a posture of eternal penance. I turned away, the sight of him making my stomach churn, but my mother was already there. She was setting two mugs of steaming tea on the wooden table, her eyes soft with that maternal wisdom that usually brought me peace, but today it felt like salt in a wound. "He’s still there, Emerald," she said quietly, gesturing toward the door. "He hasn't moved an inch all night." "He’s a wolf, Mama. He won't die from a bit of frost," I snapped, sitting down and wrapping my hands around the hot mug. She sat across from me, reaching over to cover my hand with hers. "I know you’re in pain. I know your heart has been shredded into pieces no