All Chapters of The President's Mate: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Eleanor’s POVI couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen.There, beneath the cold flickering of fluorescent lights in the hospital lobby, I sat with my body upright but my spirit sunken, watching them replay his fall again and again. Centre Velmon, earlier today. The very place where he stood just hours ago—speaking to the nation, proud, steady, commanding. Now reduced to thirty-two looping seconds of collapse and speculation.The news anchor wore a sombre look that didn’t reach her eyes. “Sources suggest it may be a reaction to an unknown substance,” she said, her tone laced with the kind of intrigue that feeds public chaos. “The presidency remains silent on the ongoing accusations. Could this be related?”I clenched my jaw. Hard. My fingers balled into fists on my lap.What did I expect? Of course, they would twist it. They always do. They couldn’t just say the President collapsed—they had to attach a scandal to it. Paint Devon as weak. As compromised. Even as a liar.I blinked, t

Devon’s POVI woke with sunlight spilling in through the tall windows of the Presidential Suite.Eleanor was still beside me, her face resting gently on my chest, her breathing soft and even. She looked peaceful, elegant, and even. Everything about her was serene.But I wasn't.My wolf stirred restlessly beneath the surface.Not because of her.Because of him.Jimmie.I swallowed tightly, my hand brushing over Eleanor’s bare shoulder. She didn’t stir. I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts a churning storm. Who would’ve thought that just yesterday I was lying cold… lifeless… moments from slipping away forever?They always said wolves who are rejected by their fated mates either go mad or… die.I’d heard of it before—whispers, old stories. Wolves who rejected their mates... the pain so deep, so unnatural, that it tore them apart. Some lost their minds. Others... just died.I used to think they were weak.I thought I’d be stronger. That rejection from Jimmie, though it gutted me, could be

Devon JamesI stood at the podium, a thousand eyes pinned to my every move—the weight of nations on my shoulders. And not one of them, not one, could hear the wolf pacing beneath my skin.The cameras were live. The air was thick. The silence... electric.Then I began.“My fellow Astrians… and to those watching beyond our borders… let me speak plainly.”My voice echoed off the high-arched ceiling of the Presidential Press Hall—measured, unwavering, deliberate.“There’s been speculation in recent days. Whispers that seek to drown truth in the noise of fear. Leaked footage. Edited fabrications. Baseless rumours claiming I am… unwell. That I am not who I was. That I am—” dead, my mind filled in, “—not fit to lead.”I paused, letting the words settle. The air pulsed with tension.“I want to be clear: these claims are false. I am alive. I am standing before you. I have never—not once—used narcotics or illegal suppressants. And I will not entertain wild conspiracies spread by cowards hiding

Devon’s POVThis woman must be crazy.That was all I could think as I sat at the dinner table, watching the wreckage Nadia was so effortlessly creating with every word she uttered—cool, calm, calculated. I glanced at Jimmie. He looked like he wanted to strangle her with his dinner napkin. Hell, I wouldn’t have stopped him.Nadia leaned in again, her fork slicing lazily through the salad she’d barely touched. Her voice came like smoke, soft and sharp.“Oh? Did the question take you by surprise?”Jimmie’s glare could have burned holes in her skin. If looks could kill, she’d be ash on the floor. But instead, she smiled—cocky, smug, knowing.That smile set something off in me. Enough.“That’s enough, Nadia!” I snapped, my voice echoing louder than I meant. Everyone went still.“You’ve done enough,” I said again, more grounded, my gaze hard on her. Her expression didn’t flinch—but I saw the faint twitch of her jaw. Good.Eleanor, composed as always, moved with grace toward Jimmie, placing

DEVON’S POVThe bed felt too wide, too cold, too… empty.I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the thin slant of morning light sneaking through the floor-to-ceiling drapes of the presidential suite. The silence greeted me with a strange sense of betrayal. I turned my head slightly. The spot where Eleanor had slept was vacant, her side already cold.She was gone, probably headed out early for work. Just as well. I couldn’t have faced her right now, not with what was clawing at my chest.I exhaled, deep and low, and pressed my back further into the soft Egyptian cotton sheets. I wasn’t ready to get up. Not yet.Because all I could feel, all I could remember, was Jimmie.The kiss.God, that kiss.I ran my fingers over my lips like they were retracing a memory, not just a moment. My wolf stirred, not with urgency, but contentment. Calm. Like he had been fed after a famine.“He kissed me,” I thought again, as if it still hadn’t fully registered. But it had.Deeply. Too deeply.Not just