Semua Bab Saving My Rejected Mate: Bab 81 - Bab 90

Mason held her tightly, guiding her rhythm with unwavering strength. Each movement against him sent waves of heat through her, the pressure building deep inside her core. It was rising, coiling, begging to break free. He felt it too—her body responding to him, clenching with need. 'She’s close,' he thought, his jaw tightening as he focused on keeping their rhythm steady, drawing it out just enough to make the climax even sweeter. “Ahh… Mason… d-don’t stop… please, just like that…” Aria’s voice was breathless, pleading, raw with desperation—and Mason reveled in it. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, grounding her in his arms as she began to unfold. 

Aria stirred awake, blinking against the soft morning light. Her hand reached out instinctively—but the other side of the bed was empty. No sign of Mason. She sat up slowly, a bit disoriented. She glanced down at herself and noticed that she was fully dressed in a comfortable shirt and shorts, her body clean and free from the stickiness she expected. “Wait… Did he clean me up and dress me?” she wondered, brows drawing together in surprise. Her gaze shifted to the bedside table, where a folded note rested. She reached for it and opened it carefully. [Sorry, I couldn’t wait for you to wake. Something urgent came up at the Federa

The man trembled uncontrollably, sweat pouring down his face as he knelt before Mason.“M-My brother… he said he took a job from a werewolf. I thought he was just being paranoid—until they killed him. I saw it… with my own eyes,” he choked, voice breaking.Mason’s eyes narrowed.“We were supposed to meet… he was going to hand me a video. A recording of his deal with that man,” the man continued. “But as I neared the meeting spot, I saw several black cars parked along the street… something felt wrong. So I didn’t go in—I hid. I watched.”He swallowed hard, the memory visibly tormenting him.“My brother got there earlier than we agreed. They ambushed him… they shifted. Right there in the open. They tore him apart like he was nothing. Then they staged the scene. Made it look like a bear or a rabid animal killed him.” His voice cracked. “But it wasn’t. It was a cover-up.”Mason’s jaw clenched, his eyes burning with fury, but he said nothing.“They took the recording. But before he died, m

The night had deepened into a suffocating stillness, but inside, Aria remained focused, her fingers dancing across her keyboard with determination. Lines of numbers filled her screen—transactions, dates, names. She was neck-deep into the finances of her late parents’ company and foundation, hunting for discrepancies… hunting for mysterious accounts that looked normal to outsiders.Cecil sat beside her, equally engrossed. “Julian messaged earlier,” she murmured without looking up. “He said my parents will join us here. My dad has leads—serious ones. They’ll stop by Atty. Marshall first for the standard security sweeps before heading here. Same protocol as ours.”Aria’s eyes remained glued to her screen. “Good. I need to ask him about several accounts that don’t add up.”“How many have you found?”“Five… so far,” Aria said, her voice tight, jaw clenched. “I may have been gone for four years, but I still remember our clients—especially the ones who would never funnel money into shell co

The next morning, long before the sun had fully risen, Mason and Julian stormed into the Federation Headquarters. One of their enforcers had reported a breakthrough—someone among the prisoners had finally uttered the name Jude Becker.Mason’s expression was grim, his patience already worn thin. “Why the hell did you drag us here at this hour instead of getting the damn information yourself?” he snapped, his voice a low growl of restrained fury.They had spent most of the night interrogating the latest group of captives. Hours wasted on fear-stricken subordinates from Crimson Claw and its neighboring packs who either genuinely knew nothing or were trained too well to speak. Jude Becker had gone to great lengths to erase his existence—even his own men didn’t know what he looked like, let alone where he was hiding.Mason had resorted to memory transference—again and again—siphoning fragments of truth from the minds of their prisoners. But every time, he hit a wall. No images. No voices.