All Chapters of Rejected by the lycan king: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

1: The Road to Ashen CradleWe left the Spiral Keep at first light, the air sharp with the scent of burning pine. The sky still bore streaks of smoke from the Hollowed Flame’s advance in the west, casting everything in a haze of crimson and ash. I rode beside Rafael, both of us cloaked in leathers etched with protection sigils by the Keepers. Behind us, a small battalion of elite guards trailed silently, their eyes scanning every tree and stone.But it wasn’t the threat of battle that haunted me it was the pull.The Spiral still hummed in my veins. And the mark below my collarbone the one shaped like a spiral wreathed in fire pulsed as if alive, leading me east. Toward the Ashen Cradle. Toward answers we couldn’t yet name.“What do you think we’ll find there?” I asked Rafael, who hadn’t spoken in some time.“If the Ember Archives are real, then perhaps truth. Maybe even a way to stop what’s coming.”“And if they’re not?”He met my gaze. “Then we burn trying.”We camped briefly in

1: The Path of FlameThe wind that once howled with ice now whispered with embers. I could feel it in my blood a shift, a heat coiling beneath my skin like a long slumbering beast waking to life. The Spiral had shown me truths, and they were no longer burdens. They were weapons.We left the Frostbound Citadel in silence, Varyn’s parting gaze heavy with unspoken warnings. The Keeper of the Cold Flame had served his purpose. Now the fire led the way.As we descended into the valley below the northern peaks, the snow gave way to steam. The ground beneath our horses’ hooves sizzled faintly, and the distant sky shimmered like it was aflame. This land this ancient corridor of elemental power was alive.And it was waiting for us.Rafael rode close but did not speak. I could feel the questions in him, the concern. But I had no words to soothe them, not yet. I wasn’t the same woman who had stood trembling in court weeks ago. The Spiral had burned away my fear.But something darker stirred

1: Fractures in the FlameThe moment my foot stepped beyond the fire’s embrace, a new world unfolded before me.Stone shifted beneath my heels, smooth yet ancient, etched with symbols that shimmered faintly with pale blue light. I stood in a circular chamber, silent and untouched, save for the thrum of magic in the air. This place felt older than time, and every breath I took echoed through my bones as if the air itself remembered everything that had come before.The Spiral on my hand pulsed not painfully, but with urgency. A calling.Behind me, the fire shimmered like a veil, revealing Rafael as he pushed through, gasping slightly, his eyes meeting mine. "You disappeared.""I had to move forward."He took in our new surroundings with narrowed eyes. "Where are we?""I think... the core of the Spiral. The heart of the realm," I said. "This is where everything ends or begins."A sound faint and low rippled through the chamber. A pulse of vibration. And then a voice, one that did no

The fire still lingered in my eyes, long after we left the Spiral’s threshold. It wasn't just the glow of the Lycan Flame it was Ophelia. She walked ahead, blade on her back, the crown of fire hovering just above her in quiet reverence. She didn’t need armor. She was the storm.I followed her into the veil, where the air shimmered like fractured glass. The Spiral had shifted us. No longer beneath the earth, we stood on the edge of our world and another. The skies churned with storm clouds, and the winds carried the scent of prophecy.Ophelia said nothing. Her silence was not empty; it was heavy, expectant.I had so many questions. About what she saw. About who she had become.But one truth pulsed louder than the rest: she was not the same woman I led into the Spiral. She was more. And for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel like her protector. I felt like her equal maybe even her follower.She turned to me, and her eyes no longer just violet, but streaked with burning go

The fire crackled behind me as I stood before the Moonstone Council once more. The great hall, now rebuilt with new stones and sacred ash, pulsed with renewed energy. There were no thrones only seats, all equal, all facing each other.Ezren sat beside me, sleepy-eyed but attentive, a parchment in his lap where he doodled stars and wolves with half a mind to magic. Rafael stood just behind, a constant presence my shield and my anchor."We've received word from the Northern Ridge," I began, my voice strong but steady. "A faction of Crescent loyalists has gathered there. They refuse to recognize our peace accords."A murmur rose from the circle. Councilors exchanged glances. Fear. Weariness. A familiar tension.Rafael stepped forward, eyes scanning the room. "We do not seek another war, but we will not allow oppression to fester. If they raise blades, we will defend. But we will try words first."An elder wolfess to my right Councilor Maren nodded slowly. "Let them be given a choice. The