All Chapters of The Rogue's Reluctant Mate: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Later, as the deal was being finalized, a younger man, an assistant to one of the other executives, tried to subtly alter a clause in the contract, hoping no one would notice in the flurry of paperwork.I saw it. My lessons with Miss Albright, my hours spent poring over dense texts in Austin’s library, had sharpened my mind, taught me to look for details, for inconsistencies. It was a minor change, but it could have cost Austin millions.Without thinking, I spoke up. “Excuse me,” I said, my voice surprisingly clear and steady in the suddenly silent room. All eyes turned to me. Austin’s gaze was sharp, unreadable. “Mr Thorne, I believe there’s a slight discrepancy in section five, subsection C. The wording has been altered from the previous draft.”The assistant went pale. His boss shot him a furious look. Austin picked up the contract, his eyes scanning the section I’d indicated. A muscle twitched in his jaw.“Indeed, Miss Veridian,” he said, his voice dangerously soft. “Your eyes ar

The city trip, the fight, the… aftermath in Austin’s bed… it had changed something. Or maybe it had just stripped away another layer of the girl I used to be, leaving something harder, sharper, and a hell of a lot more confused in its place. Austin hadn’t mentioned that night again, not directly. But there was a new tension in the air when we were alone, a darker undercurrent to his already unsettling gaze. He’d seen me fight, seen me protect him. And he’d taken me with a possessiveness that had been both terrifying and, in a deeply shameful way, exhilarating.Now, the training had shifted. It wasn’t just about defense anymore. It was about offense. It was about killing.“You flinched freckles,” Austin’s voice cut through my concentration. We were in the woods behind the mansion, the air damp and smelling of pine. He’d set up targets— not just inanimate ones anymore. sometimes, he’d use live rabbits Jaron caught in snares, telling me to dispatch them quickly, cleanly. The first tim

The psychological toll of these lessons wasimmense. Some nights, I’d wake up screaming, the images of blood and dying eyes seared into my brain. Other nights, I’d dream of Austin, his touch, his voice, the terrifying mix of pain and pleasure he could evoke. I was becoming harder, colder, more like him. And it scared the hell out of me. But the thought of revenge, the burning need to make them pay... it was the only thing that kept me going.“You’re still too hesitant in wolf form,” Austin said a few days later. We were deep in the woods, both shifted. He was the massive black wolf, I the smaller mahogany one. He’d been pushing me, making me hunt, making me bring down prey larger than rabbits , a young deer this time.I’d managed it, but it had been clumsy, a desperate, messy kill that had left me shaken. My wolf instincts were there, but they were still overlaid with too much human.... morality, I guess.{You think too much Selena!} his voice echoed in my mind, the telepathic lin

AUSTIN_____The human world was a cesspit of its own unique design. Deceit wrapped in silk, betrayal served on silver platters. My dealings in it were a necessary evil, a way to amass the kind of power that transcended pack hierarchies and brute strength. But it came with its own brand of vermin. Tonight, one of those vermin decided to scurry out from the shadows.We were leaving a discreet meeting at a warehouse complex down by the industrial waterfront— one of my less glamorous but highly profitable shipping ventures. The kind of place where deals were made in cash and questions weren’t asked. Selena was with me, a silent shadow in the dark, practical clothing I’d had Silas procure for these less...public outings. She’d become adept at fading into the background when necessary, a useful trait. Her senses, however, were always on high alert. I’d made sure of that.“Stay sharp, Freckles,” I’d murmured as we exited the dimly lit office, the scent of stale coffee and desperation clin

“What...what now?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. She looked at the body sprawled at her feet, then back at me. “Now,” I said, my voice dropping, becoming softer, more intimate, “we deal with the aftermath.” I tucked the knife into my belt. My gaze held hers. This moment, this shared kill, this brutal baptism. It had forged a new link between us, darker and stronger than before. I leaned in, slowly, giving her time to react, to pull away. She didn’t. She stood her ground, her eyes wide, watching me, waiting. Her scent, a mix of her own unique musk, blood, and fear turned adrenaline, was intoxicating. My lips brushed hers, a feather-light touch. Not a kiss of passion, not like before. This was something different. Slower. Deeper. An acknowledgment. A claiming. A reward. She let out a shaky breath, her eyelids fluttering closed. Her lips were soft, pliant under mine. I deepened the kiss, slowly, deliberately, tasting her, tasting the lingering metallic tang of blood and