All Chapters of Rejected By Him; Claimed By His Crazy Brother: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

IXORA POVI never thought silence could be so loud.It followed me everywhere now. Not the kind that comforted. This one echoed. Between looks. Behind words. In the space where pity used to live. Now it was caution. Curiosity. Even fear.I wasn’t the broken Luna anymore. I wasn’t the girl who clung to Ronan like he was the only thing keeping her alive. No. Something inside me had changed.But respect wasn’t given. I had to earn it.That morning, I stood at the edge of the training field. No escort. No command. Just me. In black pants and a worn shirt. My hair tied up, my face bare, scars exposed. If they were going to look, let them see everything.The field was already full—blades clashing, bodies moving, warriors shouting. I knew most of them. Some by name. Some by the way they used to look through me like I was glass.Then one of them saw me.Calo.He was built like a wall and arrogant enough to believe he was one. He turned when I stepped onto the field, wiped sweat from his brow,

IXORA POVThe next day was too bright.The kind of light that made everything feel exposed. The kind that made secrets sweat.I kept to myself. Drank water. Watched. Listened.Everything was louder now. Even the silence.When I passed by Flora’s corridor, I didn’t look in.I didn’t need to. I could feel her presence in the air.Tight. Jittery. Paranoid.Something had shaken her.Perhaps my plans on exposing her But it wasn’t just that.Flora was always greedy, always shallow. But now there was something darker flickering behind her smile. Like she was preparing to sink, and didn’t mind dragging someone down with her.Chris wasn’t much better.I caught a glimpse of him on the staircase, smiling at one of the Council guards, nodding like a diplomat. But his eyes drifted to me, and I saw it. That twitch in the corner of his mouth. That flicker of knowing.He knew I was closing in.But he still thought I’d lose.I walked past without blinking.And even though my hands were trembling i

IXORA POV I woke up with a weight on my chest.Not pain...Not fear...Just heaviness. Like something had shifted while I slept and the room hadn’t caught up yet.Celeste sat by the window, ledger in her lap, brows furrowed like she could burn holes through the numbers.“I checked again,” she said. “The dates match up. The reports Flora submitted last season were forged.”I already knew that.But hearing it aloud made the ache rise again.I nodded slowly and dragged the blanket closer.My breath felt cold.We didn’t speak for a while. Just the sound of her flipping pages, scratching soft notes in the margins.Then a knock came. Gentle. Careful.Ronan opened the door.He looked… off.He held something in his hand. Sealed. Marked with the Council crest.My stomach turned before I even saw it.He walked to me slowly. Sat at the edge of the bed.“Letter from the Council,” he said. “Just arrived.”I took it. Fingers numb.The seal cracked louder than it should have.I unfolded the parchmen

IXORA POVThe letter came in the morning, tucked neatly under the door as if it had always belonged there. At first, I thought it was something Ronan left. Maybe a note, something he couldn’t say out loud. But the paper was thin and aged, its edges fraying like it had been handled too many times. When I picked it up, something in me went still.No name. No seal.Just four words scrawled in shaky ink:"She is not who she seems."My breath caught. I read it again. Then again. The writing wasn’t familiar, not completely. But the tone… the warning... it made something cold move through me.My first thought wasn’t fear. It was clarity. Like a mirror snapping into focus.Flora?Could it be?I folded the letter and slipped it beneath my robe, pressing it close to my skin like the heat might melt some truth out of it. I didn’t go to Ronan. Not because I doubted him , I never could. But because I needed to hold this alone for a moment. To think. To breathe.Downstairs, Celeste was already in

FLORA POVNo one ever checks the places that feel forgotten.The west wing was closed off long before I learned to walk these halls. They said it was cursed. That a fire once ate through its walls and left only silence in its place. They boarded it up, sealed it shut with rusted nails and cowardice, and told stories about how nothing could survive what burned here.But people always fear the wrong thing.It was never the flames they should have feared. It was what survived them.I move barefoot across the cold stone floor, the dust clinging to my toes like breath from a long-dead ghost. The air here is thicker. Still, but not silent. Something moves beneath it. Something that never left.Ash still lines the edges of the walls, smudged like fingerprints, like soot that remembers. The warmth that lingers in the floor isn’t natural, it's not from firewood or ember. It’s from memory. This place hums with what it used to be. With what it still is.I lower myself to my knees, the stone b