Semua Bab HER DAUGHTER'S REJECTED MATE : Bab 41 - Bab 50

ASH BENEATH THE THRONE Blythe sat motionless in the quiet of her chambers, her skin still burning from the Blood Trial. The scent of ash clung to her hair, and faint bruises blossomed along her arms where the ritual cords had bound her. Her fingers hovered over the goblet of water Helena had left beside her bed. She hadn’t yet found the strength to lift it. “Drink,” Aria whispered in her mind. “You need it.” Blythe closed her eyes. “I need more than water.” There was a knock at the door. She stiffened. “Come.” 

  WOLVES DISAPPEAR Blythe’s POV The council chamber was colder tonight. Candles burned low on the long oak table, shadows licking the stone walls. I sat at the head of the table, spine straight, crown biting into my scalp like a warning. Elder Moses leaned forward, fingertips steepled. “Twelve,” he said softly. “Twelve wolves have gone missing in the last fortnight, Your Grace.” My fingers tightened around the carved armrest. “Their names?” Lady Marrow, seated beside me, unrolled a parchment with a tre

A CROWN IN THE SHADOWS Blythe’s POV The ballroom glowed with a thousand lanterns. Glass chandeliers dripped with crystal; silver banners shimmered from the vaulted ceiling. The scent of roasted meats, honeyed wine, and crushed roses filled the air. Laughter rippled under it all — sharp-edged, too bright. At the head of the room, Vito raised a goblet, his smile stretched thin. “To our Queen,” he intoned, his voice carrying over the gathered nobles. “To Blythe, who not only survived the Blood Trial but has proven as enduring as her bloodline.” 

THE HUNT BEGINS Xavier’s POV The forest was colder than usual tonight. I moved swiftly through the underbrush, my breath visible in the pale moonlight, my boots crunching over frosted leaves. My wolf senses prickled at the edges—something was off. The forest was too quiet, and even the wind felt like it was holding its breath. Aria murmured inside me, a pulse of raw instinct. “We’re not alone.” I ducked behind a fallen log, eyes scanning the treetop. A shadow flickered.

THE FIRST ROAR Blythe’s POV When I stepped through the carved oak doors, the council chamber was a hive of whispers. Chandeliers flickered overhead, throwing gold across marble floors, but beneath the glow, every face was taut with expectation, like wolves waiting for the scent of blood. Vito sat at the head of the table, his fingers folded, his mouth curved into that smooth, infuriating smile, and on either side, lords and ladies leaned forward, their jewels glittering like sharpened teeth. Aria’s voice coiled inside me. “Be steady, Blythe. This is where they will try to break you.” “Let them