All Chapters of Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King: Chapter 441 - Chapter 450

ErikThe runes on my arms pulse like bruises beneath my skin.They used to respond to thought. To focus. Now they answer emotion. Instinct. Fear. And that’s dangerous. Because I can’t hide either of those things anymore.I tighten the leather strap around my wrist to hide the shimmer crawling beneath the ink, but it does nothing to dull the hum in my bones.It’s been getting louder for days. The binding I placed on myself is faltering.And I don’t know how much longer I can pretend I’m holding it together.The others are in the sitting room when I walk in.Cerelia, my mother, Scarlett, even Arlo and Hilda. There’s a hush to the air. The kind that tastes like a storm before it breaks.Cerelia’s eyes track my movements the second I cross the threshold. “You’re late.”“I was working,” I lie.Scarlett stands, her jaw tight. “You missed breakfast.”“I wasn’t hungry.”She crosses her arms. “Erik-”“I said I’m fine.”The lie sounds worse when I hear it out loud.Cerelia sets her tea down and

HildaThe walls in this damn inn are too thin. Scarlett slammed the door two hours ago and Erik hasn’t come out since.I told myself I’d wait, give her space. But the longer I sit with the silence, the more it boils in my veins.She’s breaking. She’s burning. And I don’t know how to stop it.I’m pacing when Arlo walks in, shrugging off his coat like it weighs ten pounds more than usual. He looks wrecked. Drawn tight at the jaw, shoulders too stiff, like he’s forcing every breath.Like me, he hasn’t slept right for weeks. His eyes meet mine and there’s no pretense.“She’s slipping,” I say.“I know.”“We’re losing her.”“No,” he says, voice rough. “We’re not.”“I want to rip that thread right out of her chest,” I whisper. “Loki’s mark. I feel it when I look at her. Like poison curling under her skin.”His gaze sharpens with shared fury, but then softens. He steps forward and kisses me. Hard.No preamble. No slow build. Just heat and teeth and his hands already tugging at my clothes like

ChrisElliott’s asleep. Or pretending to be. I can’t tell for sure.His breathing’s steady, but his hand hasn’t moved from where it’s resting on my hip.Loose. Casual. Like he forgot he was touching me. Like he didn’t fall asleep with his fingers curled under the hem of my shirt.I lie there, staring at the ceiling, overly aware of the area he’s touching.The room’s quiet, except for the occasional creak of the old floorboards and the low hum of the city beyond the window. But none of it’s loud enough to drown out the thoughts crowding my head.Everyone’s unraveling.Scarlett. Erik. Even Signe looked like she wanted to scream earlier. And here I am. Lying in bed with him. The one I’m sure is destined to be my mate.The one thing in my life that makes sense. I still worry about how my family is going to react, but I’m much more concerned about never losing him again.I turn slowly, careful not to jostle him too much, and roll onto my side to face him.He’s beautiful like this. Soft. Li

ElliottChris laughs so hard he almost falls off the roof.“You’re lying,” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “There’s no way you punched the Alpha of the Crescent Pack in the face.”“I was ten,” I say, deadpan. “He tried to steal my sandwich. Honor had to be defended.”He throws his head back and howls with laughter. Actual, honest-to-gods howling. I’ve never been more in love.We’re perched on the inn’s flat roof, legs dangling over the edge. The night’s crisp, the city quieting down beneath us. Above, the stars look like they’ve been scattered just for us.But I don’t care about the sky.I care about the boy next to me, hair wind-tousled, eyes bright with mirth, warmth rolling off him like a furnace just for me.“You’re the weirdest person I’ve ever met,” Chris says, still smiling.“And yet,” I murmur, leaning closer, “Here you are. Hopelessly in love.”His smile softens. “Maybe.”“Definitely.”I kiss him before he can answer.It starts as a tease. Just lips. But he kisses me back

ErikShe doesn’t speak again after, “Don’t give me reasons to walk away.” And I don’t ask for more than that.We sit in silence, her fingers laced with mine, the air too still around us. I feel like I’m sitting on the edge of a cliff, and one wrong breath will send the whole world crumbling beneath my feet.Scarlett is a storm holding its breath. Her body is still. Her magic, coiled just beneath her skin.When she finally stands, she doesn’t let go of my hand. She leads me back to the bedroom without saying anything.My pulse is a thunderclap in my ears. I follow her because it’s the only thing I know how to do. Because if I let her go now, I’ll lose her forever.She turns to face me and grips the front of my shirt. Her eyes burn with fury and desire, grief and hunger, all of it crackling in the space between us.And then she kisses me. It’s not sweet. It’s war.Teeth clash. Her fingers twist in my shirt, yanking me into her like she needs to consume me or destroy me, maybe both. Her