All Chapters of The Rejected Queen: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Rayna POV The fire’s burned low, and the first threads of dawn snake through the cracks in the shutters, painting pale gold across the wooden floor.I haven’t really slept. Not after what I heard. Not with him sitting just feet away, breathing like stone, like nothing happened.But now, something’s different. I sit up slowly, muscles tight from tension. My senses sweep the room before my eyes do.He’s awake. Still in the armchair. Still watching the fire.But there is a change. His hands are clasped, elbows resting on his knees, shoulders hunched slightly forward - like he’s been holding something back all night and it’s starting to bleed through the seams.I rise without speaking. My bare feet barely make a sound across the wooden floor.He doesn't move. But I feel it - the moment he notices. The moment his wolf stirs.And then… a flicker in his eyes. Of guilt?No. Not guilt. Regret.He stands and moves toward the small stove in the corner, busies himself with the kettle like this i

Rayna POV The camp doesn’t settle like a real pack would. It shifts. Constant movement. Quiet tension.They don’t have guards posted - they have watchers hidden in the trees. Weapons lean against crates. Bones hang from lines like charms.Damon walks through it all like it’s his kingdom. No hesitation. No lowered gaze. And the way the others look at him?Not just respect.Fear.Like he’s not one of them. Like he’s more.I keep close, watching everything. A tall, broad-shouldered man approaches from the far side of the clearing, eyes flicking to me with faint curiosity.“Boss,” he says quietly.Boss.Damon just nods.Not a rogue. Not just another fighter. He leads them.The pieces click together.Of course he does.Damon stops near a blackened stone archway half-swallowed by moss. Behind it stands a single structure -larger than the others. Less ruined.He gestures toward it.“You’ll stay here.”Not a tent. A cabin. Solid walls. Locked windows. Separate from the others. Protected.“Un

Rayna POV By the time we step back into camp, the sky’s bleeding gray and gold between the trees.The rogue wolf’s blood stains my boots. My hands shake just a little, but I keep my chin up.I’m not the girl they dragged out of the woods anymore.Silas walks beside me in silence. No unnecessary words. No bragging about the fight. That, at least, I can respect.But it’s Damon I look for the second we clear the edge of the clearing.And he’s there.Leaning against the same wrecked truck from the night before. Arms crossed. Eyes cold. Watching like he never stopped. As if he knew exactly what happened out there.His gaze flicks to Silas, then to me.“You took her south,” Damon says. No emotion in it. Just statement.Silas shrugs once. “Lira said she needed to learn.”A long pause.Damon doesn’t speak again until Silas walks away. When it’s just the two of us standing there.“I smelled you out there,” I say quietly. “You were watching.”“I was.”“That’s it?” My voice sharpens. “You don’t

Rayna POVThe door clicks shut behind Damon.And just like that, I’m alone.Silence settles thick in the room. No voices. No footsteps. Just the crackle of embers in the hearth and my own heartbeat slowing from its restless pace.For a second, I just stand there.I’m safe. For now. That’s what Lira said. That’s what Damon promised.But it doesn’t feel real yet.Leader of the rogues... Of course it’s him. Of course it’s Damon. It explains too much - the way everyone looks at him, the way the camp moved when he spoke.Why would someone like that waste his time on me? What does he actually want ?I push the thought away and turn slowly in place, taking in the room with clearer eyes.The main space is practical - shelves with weapons, knives lined in perfect rows, packs half-packed along the wall.There’s another door, slightly ajar, leading to a back room. I push it open carefully.Inside is a small bedroom. Spartan, but lived in. A bed with dark sheets. A single chair. Another shelf lin

Rayna’s POVRayna sat on the edge of the low cot, the rough wool blanket bunched in her lap. The room was simple: wood walls, one crooked window, a small table with a chipped mug and a candle stump, wax pooled like melted bones. It smelled of pine, smoke, and him.Damon.She hated how fast her mind went to him.He hadn’t returned after storming out. And part of her was grateful. The other part - the irrational, traitorous one - kept listening for footsteps.She pressed her fingers to her temple, willing the thoughts away.“I’m not here to moon over a temperamental rogue Alpha,” she muttered to herself.With nothing else to do and too much energy to sit still, she started exploring. The cabin was more secure than she’d expected - solid frame, strong lock on the inside of the door, hidden latches on the window. Smart. This wasn’t just a place to crash. It was a safehouse.Outside, the rogue camp stirred slowly. Smoke from early cooking fires twisted through the tall trees. Voices carrie