All Chapters of Fated To The Rogue Alpha:Awakening Of The Rejected Tribrid : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Camille's POV ************** The scent of vetiver mixed with bergamot wafted through the evening air as I stood beside the small garden at the back of the mansion. This was the second time I had caught that scent, but this time it stirred a strange warmth low in my belly causing me to instinctively pull my legs together. “What are you doing here?” His voice, although commanding, carried a smooth, almost creamy tone. What the hell was wrong with me? What was wrong with my body and these stupid feelings? I hesitated, clearing my throat so I could speak. His eyes flashed. “Get out of my garden. Now.” The order was sharp, like a sudden slap across my face I hadn’t seen coming. “W-what?” I stammered. “Excuse me, but—” “You’ve been excused,” he cut me off, his expression grave, emotionless, detached. That sudden jolt of anger in my veins made all the warmth and foolish emotions vanish. I was grateful for the clarity, but who the hell was he to talk to me that way? “J

Camille's POV Looking at my legs, I felt a pressing need to take a short walk to ease the mounting tension. Changing into something more comfortable, I decided to go for a quick stroll, slipping out through the back door to avoid any contact with Alpha Vikron. After what had happened the other day in the garden, I thought it best to stay hidden. What was that saying? “Out of sight, out of mind.” And besides, it seemed like my presence irritated him more than anything else. Snapping out of my thoughts, I realized I was heading in the direction of the clinic. Why had they built the clinic so far from the pack’s mansion? I sighed, walking slowly as the gentle movements of the baby in my stomach tickled me and, at the same time, intensified the ache in my waist. I moved toward the benches beside the clinic to rest before continuing when an unfamiliar voice called from the path nearest the clinic. I stood up and edged closer to a tree, pushing aside some leaves, and saw the blood

Alpha Sigewuf ************** Beta Roxan kept his head low, his face battered and smeared with blood. He dared not lift his gaze, fearing what he might see or reveal. Thank the gods, he was beginning to heal, though the process was painfully slow. At least one thing had gone right: he remembered the name of the pack that had kept his mate from him. He had ignored the note she left that night on the stand: “I, Camille Loeka, hereby reject you as my mate. I break every bond between us. And by my blood on our names, I seal this.” He had scoffed then, dismissing her words as empty threats. But now, he knew she hadn’t bluffed that night. Somehow, the gods had favored her. He couldn’t detect her scent, not even in the places she had visited. “Go and supervise the pack training, and later check the records to ensure everything’s proceeding smoothly,” Alpha Sigewuf commanded, dismissively waving his hand. Beta Roxan immediately left, giving the alpha space to think. He was determined

Camille's POV ************* As soon as the dust from the wall settled, I heard the snapping of bones and the quick shifting of bodies in motion. Alpha Vikron shifted; his presence was overpowering and imposing, as if charged with raw energy. Alpha Sigewuf stood, his face drained of color. The fear in his eyes was palpable. They faced each other—a vivid challenge in Alpha Vikron's eyes and unwillingness in Alpha Sigewuf's, as he tried to mask his emotions. “Hello, little brother,” Alpha Vikron's voice cut through the dense atmosphere in the room. I almost choked on his words. “What?” My eyes darted from Sigewuf to Alpha Vikron. Sigewuf sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled as if he no longer needed the air. “The rogue son reappears. That was a grand entrance.” Alpha Vikron laughed—briefly and dryly. “It’s been eleven years. Did you really think I’d want a welcome party like this?” My heart pounded erratically in my chest as they spoke. My legs shook, even thou

Camille's POV *********** My eyes opened slowly. My shirt was wet with perspiration. It was a dream, I heard a voice in my head say. I hissed. The pictures of that pup were still fresh in my mind—its tenderness, its eyes, that smile! I heaved a sigh as tears flowed silently from the corner of my eye. My thoughts galloped, leaping over hedges, tearing down hillside slopes, splashing through streams of water without even getting wet. My hand trailed over the stitches from the surgery. I couldn't feel any pain. I couldn't feel any baby flutters in my stomach anymore as I lay back on the hospital bed. I gently pulled my hands toward the stitched area around my lower belly. The pain was gone, but not the scar. A surge of anger rose as my fingers traced the cut. I wanted the pain to stay—pain and scar. I wanted both to remain, a reminder of my loss. A reminder of the life stolen from me before I had the chance to see it. It didn't change anything. It didn