All Chapters of My Alpha Mate Rejected Me: He Says I'm A Misfit: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Talia's POV I sigh, poking at the pancakes with my fork. “Why do I even care?” I mumble. “It's not like their opinions matter.” But the truth is, no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, their words always stick to me like glue. They settle in my mind and refuse to leave, making it difficult to shake the feeling that I will always be an outsider in my pack, no matter how hard I try to fit in. I take my last bite of the pancake. It tastes bitter and, at the same time, sweet. Not because of the food itself, but because it reminds me that breakfast can't last forever. Moments like this never do. I push the plate away, lean back in my chair, and take a long breath, letting it out slowly. After a while, I stand up and return to my room, my steps slow. I stop in front of the mirror again. I always do this, even when I already know what I’ll see. The mirror never seems to work in my favor. My reflection stares back at me, unchanged, showing a mix of resistance and acceptance

Talia's POV But it's hard. So damn hard. And as much as I try to convince myself that I don't care what they think, a part of me does. A part of me still wants to be accepted. A part of me wishes to have what they have—a place in the pack, a sense of purpose, and, most of all, a wolf to call my own. But that’s not my reality. Eventually, I force myself to get up, brushing the dirt from my jeans. I can’t stay out here forever, no matter how much I want to. The day is only beginning, and there are still preparations for tonight—a gathering I would rather avoid but one I know I have no choice but to attend. In a pack like ours, absence is noticed. And when it is, it’s remembered. With one last look at the trees, I turn and head back toward the store. I go straight to the grocery store, pick up a few things, and then head back home without wasting time. By the time I return, the house is already busy with activity. My mother is in full preparation mode, moving around the kitchen as s

Talia's POV A warm sensation rises from the back of my neck and flows down my spine. My vision blurs for a moment, and when it clears, everything feels sharper than before. The voices around me fade into the background, and all I can feel is him—his presence, his energy. It feels like something unseen is pulling me toward him, steady and impossible to ignore. My thoughts start to race. At first, I don’t understand what is happening. Confusion fills my mind, one thought after another. Is this how the mate bond feels? Does it push people into trouble? Because the urge to hug Alpha Bran and kiss him becomes too difficult to resist. Then it hits me. It's the bond. I am feeling the exact way Mom said I would feel. The realization forms slowly but clearly. The feeling is strong, stronger than anything I have ever felt before. It connects me to someone I never expected, someone I only know as the no-nonsense Alpha of the Moonlight pack. My breath catches, and I struggle to stay steady. Al

Talia's POV “Did you just say that to Alpha Bran in front of everyone?” Serena, my only friend in the pack, asks, her voice having a mix of disbelief and amusement. She leans against a tree, arms crossed, one brow raised as she stares at me closely. I can see she is trying to decide if I have finally lost my mind. I nod, and the moment I do, the weight of everything sinks in. My body feels heavy, and I become aware of how exhausted I am after what just happened. “I had to, Serena. He left me no choice.” My chest rises and falls a little too fast, my heart still racing from the encounter. I'm sure it has not gotten the message that it is over. She releases a low whistle, pushing herself off the tree and taking a slow walk toward me. “I can't believe you're the same girl who once hid in the kitchen just to avoid talking to the butcher's son. Now you're out here, standing your ground against the Alpha in front of high-ranking wolves and visiting Alphas?” She shakes her head again, clea

Talia’s POV “Talia?” my mother calls as she enters my room. “Yeah, Mom?” I nod and sit up straighter on the floor, quickly wiping my tears before she gets too close. She purses her lips, then walks over and lowers herself beside me. “I brought you something,” she says, handing me a small, worn book. “I thought it might help.” I take the book from her, and I immediately recognize it. It’s my grandmother’s recipe book, filled with old recipes, each one tied to a memory. I flip through the pages slowly, my fingers brushing over the familiar handwriting. “Thanks, Mom,” I say, holding it carefully. “You’ve always found comfort in cooking. I thought it could help you now,” she says, looking directly at me, like she wants to be sure I understand. I nod and trace the almost faded ink on one of the pages. “It’s been a while since I looked at this,” I say quietly, more to myself than to her. “You used to spend hours in the kitchen with her, trying to get every recipe right,” my mother say