Lahat ng Kabanata ng Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King: Kabanata 191 - Kabanata 200

HildaThe silence after Cerelia’s warning is suffocating. Thick with unspoken fears and impossible choices. My hand trembles where it rests against my stomach, protectively hovering over the innocent life in there. She hasn’t even taken her first breath, and yet she’s already at the centre of a deadly conflict.Arlo stands across from me, his jaw tight, fists clenched at his sides. I can see his impotent fury at this untenable situation. He wants to fight. To strategize. But this isn’t a battle of strength or tactical maneuvering.“We have to talk to Astaroth,” I say, breaking the silence. The words taste like poison on my tongue. “No.” Arlo’s response is instant, as sharp as a blade. His eyes burn as they meet mine. “We’ll find another way.”“There isn’t one.” My voice wavers, but I force myself to hold his gaze. “I don’t dare attempt to wield Veilbreaker while I’m still pregnant. We don’t know what it would do to our daughter if my life essence is drained and it’s the only thing we

Hilda I want to scream. I want to claw at what remains of the walls of this ruined temple and tear the very foundation apart, rip through stone and time itself, anything to stop the words that are spilling from Arlo’s lips.But I can’t. I can only stand here, hands clenched into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I watch the man I love offer himself to a demon.Arlo’s voice is steady, resolute. “Tell me what you want as payment for ending Morgana.” Astaroth pretends to think about it, “Your soul, and then your life. You could be a useful guard dog in the underworld. I have many enemies down there. Demons who are jealous of my success.”No. No, no, no. Arlo nods calmly, “Fine. But only after our daughter is born and I know she and Hilda are both healthy and safe, and Morgana is gone.”Astaroth smiles, slow and indulgent, as if savoring a particularly fine wine. “Ah. The noble sacrifice. How very predictable. It hurts that you won’t just take my word that I’ll uphold my

Morgana The air in my chamber shifts, the temperature plummeting as the shadows deepen unnaturally. The scent of brimstone lingers on the edges of my senses before I hear the slow, deliberate click of boot heels on the wooden floor."Morgana, darling," Astaroth purrs, his voice as smooth and decadent as aged whiskey, laced with something far more potent and dangerous. "Did you miss me? You don’t visit, you don’t write, I’m feeling all blue at this terrible neglect."I don’t startle or betray the ripple of unease slithering down my spine. Instead, I turn in a leisurely fashion, an indulgent smirk curling my lips as I take him in.He lounges against the doorframe, every inch the devilish aristocrat he delights in portraying. More shadow than person but he manages to give the general idea. Sharp features are framed by a fall of obsidian hair, his midnight-black attire pristine save for the faint trace of blood at his cuff. Whose, I do not know. Nor do I care."Astaroth," I coo, lifting

ArloHilda’s screams could probably be heard in the next territory over. And if they can’t, she’s doing her best to make sure they will be soon. “Breathe, love,” I say, brushing her damp hair from her face.She turns the full force of her glare on me, “If you tell me to breathe one more time, I swear on the moon, I will rip your throat out.” Cerelia snorts softly but wisely keeps her attention on the business end of this operation.I swallow hard, nodding. “Right. No more breathing advice.”Hilda groans as another contraction seizes her, fingers digging into my forearm with strength that would make towering warriors cower.I would take every ounce of her pain if I could, bear it a thousand times over just to spare her this agony. But all I can do is kneel beside her, letting her crush my hand as she brings our daughter into the world.“You did this to me,” she growls, panting through the pain. “I know,” I say solemnly, as though she’s just sentenced me to exile. “I’m so sorry.” She na

HildaI wake up feeling like a person again. A person who’s had sleep. A person who isn’t entirely on the verge of collapse. A person who now has to keep a promise to a demon.Dread coils in my stomach. The moment I remember what Astaroth said, it’s like I never rested at all. I glance at Arlo, who’s staring at the ceiling, jaw tight, eyes shadowed. He knows too. We have to go.Scarlett shifts in my arms, her tiny body warm against mine. I hold her closer, pressing my lips to the soft, dark curls on her head. She makes a small sound of contentment, utterly unaware of what we’re walking into.I murmur an apology to her as we walk. “I’m so sorry, my love.” She looks so content. So happy to be outside.My feet feel heavier with every step toward the temple ruins. Arlo’s hand rests protectively against my back. Whatever happens when the demon receives Scarlett’s blood, we’ll both fight to the death to protect her. Fear presses in on me, cold and suffocating, making it harder to breathe th