All Chapters of HER DAUGHTER'S REJECTED MATE : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

BLYTHE'S POVThe mornings in Fresh Meadows were always crisp and scented with pine and wildflowers.Today, it all smelled like loneliness.I stood at the edge of the stone balcony of the Western Tower, arms folded tight around my body. Below, the park stretched in golden stripes of sunlight and long shadows, where life carried on without me. My gaze wandered across the training grounds below. Warriors sparred with one another, their movements a blur of muscle and precision. Omegas ran errands, heads bowed low. Life buzzed, unbothered by the storm brewing inside me.But he wasn't there.Not where he usually was.She didn't see him. Not yet.But she felt him — a gnawing ache tucked under her ribs, like a wound that refused to heal.Xavier had been avoiding me.Deliberately.Painfully.At first, I thought about how he took a longer route around the courtyard.I thought I was imagining it.The way he volunteered for assignments at the farthest corners of the park.The way he kept his hea

The Glimpse of Guilt.The late afternoon sun dipped low across the Fresh Meadows Pack, bleeding gold over the rooftops, but the air was sharp and cold inside Luna's private chambers.Blythe sat stiffly at her writing desk, the velvet pen trembling slightly between her fingers. She hadn't intended to call for Xavier, yet here she was, scanning the long list of omega duties, wondering if she could "accidentally" assign him nearby.Foolish, she scolded herself.She shouldn't even be thinking about him.But the memory of his steady hands, the strength hidden behind those soft eyes, gnawed at her. Xavier hadn't just awakened her body; he'd unsettled her soul.A soft knock at the door jerked her upright."Enter," she called, breathless. She hastily smoothed the creases of her gown, trying to mask the disquiet swirling within her.It wasn't Xavier.It was Helena—one of the senior omegas—her expression carefully blank, yet her steps betrayed a hint of urgency. She carried a silver corresponde

Unspoken WordsThe corridors felt colder that night, even though the summer breeze whispered through the open windows of the estate. Blythe pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, but it did little to quiet the chill deep inside her.Xavier hadn't returned to the estate since the incident in the woods. He had melted into the trees like a ghost, and with every hour passed, Blythe's worry gnawed deeper into her bones.Was he hiding because of her?Because of what almost happened between them?Her heart twisted painfully.She paused by a tall, arched window overlooking the courtyard. Lanterns bobbed below like tiny golden stars, guards' laughter drifting up on the night air. Everything seemed normal. Untouched. Unaware.But inside her, nothing was normal anymore.Nothing would ever be normal again.Soft footsteps echoed behind her.Blythe didn't have to turn. She knew who it was before he even spoke."My Lady," Xavier said, his voice low, cautious.Relief crashed through her, so s

 Smell of Suspicion Blythe stepped into the council room, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. Each step was a battle between dread and defiance. The room was already half full. Nobles lined the sides—some standing stiffly, some lounging with barely veiled boredom—but all their eyes sharpened when she entered like wolves scenting fresh blood. Vito stood near the great oak table at the far end, arms folded across his broad chest. He turned when he heard her, and Blythe saw it immediately: the way his jaw tightened, the faint narrowing of his eyes. He knew something. 

After the StormThe evening sun had long since dipped beneath the horizon by the time Blythe returned to her chambers. The quiet hush of twilight settled over the estate, but a storm still howled inside her chest.She paced.She went back and forth across the marble floor, her slippers whispering with each step.She hadn't dared to look back after the scene in the gardens. The guards had been too distracted, the ruse too well played—but one wrong move and Xavier would have been caught.Now, she didn't know where he was. If he were safe, if he even understood the message she'd risked everything to send.Her palms were still stung with phantom thorns. She'd pressed herself into the rosebush deliberately, letting the brambles bite into her skin for realism. A small sacrifice. A necessary wound.A knock shattered the quiet like a slap.Blythe's head snapped up from where she stood, frozen by the hearth, her breath catching in her throat. Her heart thundered against her ribs, wild and unce