All Chapters of Rejected By Him; Claimed By His Crazy Brother: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

IXORA POVI don’t know what pulled me from sleep.Not a sound. Not a dream. Just… a tightness in my chest. Like someone had reached into my ribs and started twisting, slow and cruel. My breath came shallow, lips parted in confusion. The room was dark, too dark, but my skin felt lit from within, anxious, buzzing, too aware. Like something had shifted. Like I’d missed the moment when the air changed.I sat up, heart skittering. The sheets were tangled around my waist, damp with sweat I didn’t remember shedding. The window was open, letting in a chill that didn’t feel like the usual night air. It felt… thin. Like the veil between things had worn too close.I slid my legs out of bed.Cold floor.Sharp. Unforgiving. Grounding.The air tasted metallic, like rain had tried to fall but changed its mind halfway down. The pendant around my neck burned hotter than usual, a warning maybe, or a nudge from something I couldn’t name. It pulsed faintly against my chest, warm in a way that felt con

FLORA POVThey’ll say I broke her.Let them.They’ll say I twisted blood and bond and bent it into something cruel. That I carved the marrow of sisterhood into something sharp enough to wound. But what they’ll never admi, what no one dares say aloud, is that she let me.Ixora gave me the knife the day she chose to shine without asking who it would blind. She let the world fall in love with her sorrow, let them crown her survivor, like grief was a throne and she earned it by simply still breathing. But we all bled.She just made a religion out of hers.And I was always the heretic.I watched her again tonight. From the west wing. She stood by the window, silhouetted by a moon far too gentle for the things we carry. Her shoulders were tense, lips parted like she almost remembered something, but then didn’t. That’s how it works now. She forgets in pieces. A name here. A truth there. Her fire flickers when it used to roar. And still, she calls it growth.Still, she thinks the light b

IXORA POVThe air had that hush again.The kind that comes right before something breaks. Not loud. Not obvious. The kind of hush that slips under doorframes and curls around your ankles. The kind that waits.I didn’t know what pulled me out of the house.Maybe it was the sun slipping too fast behind the trees or the silence pressing too tightly against the windows. Maybe it was the stillness in the living room, too heavy to breathe in. Or maybe it was just me tired of waiting for the world to make sense, tired of the way my own name sounded inside this house when no one else said it.I needed to move. To feel the ground underneath me. To remind myself that I was still here, still whole, even if everything else was starting to come undone.So I walked.My boots sank a little with each step. The earth was still soft from the morning rain, and the scent of pine clung to everything wet and sharp, like memory. I passed the training grounds. Grass flattened in places where Ronan had

RONAN POVThe walk back was longer than it should’ve been.The sun had already started to dip low in the sky, slipping behind the trees with a quiet kind of finality. It painted everything in gold and bruised purple, like dusk had something to say but didn’t know how to say it. The wind was sharp, slicing through the trees and against my skin like it had a message for me. Like it had grown tired of watching me lose her, piece by piece, and wanted to remind me just how much time I had already wasted.Every step felt heavier than the last. Like the ground wanted to keep me from reaching her. Like even the forest had started picking sides.By the time I reached the porch, my hands were fists in my coat pockets. I didn’t know if I was trying to hold the cold in or keep something darker from spilling out. Regret maybe. Rage. Guilt. I didn’t know what I was walking into, only that it was probably more than I deserved.I don’t know what I expected when I opened the front door.Silence, maybe

RONAN POVThe sun hadn’t climbed yet. The light was pale and gray, like it was afraid to touch the world too soon.I watched her sleep.Ixora’s breath rose and fell in the kind of rhythm you only find in those rare, untouchable moments. Her face turned slightly toward the window, one arm flung carelessly over the blanket like she didn’t give a damn what the world expected of her. There was something about watching someone sleep, not in that obsessive, twisted way but in the kind of way where you’re terrified the world might steal them the second you look away.My knuckles still ached.Chris’s voice still rang in my skull like a bad memory. That smug, scraping tone. The sharp twist in his grin, the kind that didn’t belong to love anymore if it ever did. I should’ve ended it. Should’ve finished him the way I was built to. But I didn’t. Maybe because she still saw the good in me. Maybe because for once, I wanted to be worthy of that.Or maybe I was just tired.Tired of blood.Tired of be