All Chapters of His Rejected Mate: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

The dungeons were colder than I remembered. The stone walls reeked of damp earth and old blood, the air thick with silence. I stood at the threshold of her cell, the scent of iron mixing with something… wrong. Twisted. Familiar, but not of our kind.Sophia sat chained to the chair in the center, her posture relaxed despite the restraints. She looked up at me as if we were old friends meeting for tea — calm, composed, maddening.I shut the door behind me and motioned for the guards to stay out.This was mine.“You’ve been quiet,” I said, stepping closer.She smiled. “Why speak when no one listens?”I didn’t answer. I wasn’t her

She looked so small now.Caged in silver-etched walls, her wrists bound not just by iron but by spells older than even Lucas remembered. Wards shimmered faintly around her cell — flickers of runes and incantations scrawled in old wolf tongue, pulsing softly to remind her, to remind us, that she couldn’t be trusted. Couldn’t be let free.And yet, even now… she smiled.Sophia sat on the cold stone, cross-legged, head tilted back as though basking in sunlight that didn’t exist down here. Her mouth moved to a song only she could hear. Unbothered. Undisturbed.Unrepentant.I didn’t know what I expected to feel. Fury, perhaps. Hatred. Satisfaction, maybe, knowing the one who ruined months of my

The air snapped with tension long before the wolves arrived.I was on patrol with two warriors near the eastern woods, the world still soft with dawn’s light, when the forest fell silent. Not the peaceful quiet after night — a hush that felt watched. Primal nerves thrummed through my muscles.“Stop,” I whispered. My senses screamed. We halted. The blades in our hands trembled in half-drawn reflex.Then it began — the sky above blackened, as if the world’s breath had been stolen. A wind whipped through the trees, bending them low. A low chant echoed: guttural, ancient, powerful.And then he stepped forward.The man from nightmares. Sophia’s grandfather. Erion.

The room was dimly lit, silent except for the flicker of candle flames and the quiet hum of ancient magic vibrating from the spellbound chains. Sophia knelt at the center of the sacred circle — once graceful, now hollow-eyed and disheveled, but still carrying a strange aura that unsettled the air. Her silver hair was tangled, her wrists glowing with the burn of enchantments, but she held her head high, defiant. Smiling.How could she still smile?My fists clenched.I stood a few feet away, surrounded by the witches who had come to decide her fate. Lucas stood behind them, silent as ever. His gaze flicked between me and Sophia like he couldn’t decide who he was more furious with — her for betraying us, or himself for not seeing it coming.Sophia had dest

The night air was cool but heavy, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. The clearing where the ritual would take place had been prepared meticulously — stones arranged in a perfect circle, runes etched deep into the ground, and the Moonstone placed at its heart, glowing with a pale, unyielding light. I could feel the ancient power thrumming beneath my feet, a power both terrifying and necessary.I stood just outside the circle, alongside the witches who would conduct the ritual. Their faces were grave, lips moving in silent prayers as they called upon forces older than time itself. I watched Sophia closely. She sat on the stone pedestal in the center, surrounded by shimmering chains of light designed to contain her even as the ritual stripped her bare.Her silver hair fell in tangled waves around her face, damp with sweat, clinging to her cheeks