Four Times Rejected, Destined for The Throne のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 101 - チャプター 110

The air in the room was thick with the scent of new life, a powerful, intoxicating mix of baby powder and the delicate fragrance of my sons. My world had narrowed to the soft, rhythmic breaths of two tiny beings. In my arms, they were the most perfect, living things I had ever touched. The smaller of the two, snuggled into my left arm, his weight a feather-light pressure against the ache in my muscles. His brother lay on my right. Both were miracles, and in this quiet, precious moment, the agony of the past few hours, the searing pain, the exhaustion of a werewolf delivery faded into a distant, manageable memory. It was replaced by a love so fierce and protective it felt like a physical shield around my heart. Their skin was the color of fresh roses, so fine and translucent I could see the faint network of veins beneath. Their tiny hands, no bigger than my thumb, were curled into perfect fists, and I was overcome with the

The two women, their faces a mixture of confusion and disappointment, turned to head back into the house to pack their belongings. The Alpha moved quietly and sat beside me on the lounger.His presence felt heavy, like heat pressing down in the open air.He took my hands, his grip firm and possessive, and looked into my eyes with such intensity it made me want to pull away. "Anna, are you jealous of Janice? Is that the reason you dismissed the women so abruptly?" he asked, a subtle, provoking smirk playing on his lips. I ignored his comment. The audacity of him to suggest I was jealous was so insulting it made my blood run cold. There was no room for intimate, personal conversations with this man, especially not about trivial human emotions like jealousy. I pulled my hands out of his, the contact feeling like a violation, and chose to address the actual reason I had let them go, a reason that was far more

Alpha Atticus’ Point of View still When I finally opened my eyes, the sun was high, it was the middle of the afternoon. Strong light poured through the thin curtain, illuminating the small space with a golden haze that stung my eyes. I hit myself on the forehead. Damn! I had been asleep for hours. My plan was ruined. I was supposed to leave right after dinner to continue searching for Anna. Every second mattered. Every delay felt like betrayal. Then I remembered the meal. The savory smoked meat was forgettable, but the rich, generous sauce Farah had served was the key. I had eaten a large amount of it, and the moment it hit my system, I was overwhelmed by a heavy, unnatural sleep. My limbs had gone slack, my mind fogged, and I had sunk into unconsciousness like a stone dropped into a deep well. And just now I realized how quick

Alpha Atticus’ Point of View still The two days leading up to the forced marriage were a blur of frustrating activity and simmering rage. Really, I couldn't believe it was happening! I was an Alpha, my heart and soul iron-clad to my chosen mate, Anna, yet here I was, being maneuvered into bigamy by a human Chief and his calculating daughter. Every muscle in my body fought the situation, but the constraints were absolute. Farah had me completely trapped. And I had no leverage, no authority here. I was just a passerby here, subject to their laws, and most critically, they held the key to my search. All my power, my brute strength, my speed, my connections, was useless until I played by their rules. I had to swallow my pride, choke down my fury, and go through with the ceremony. It was the only viable path to finding Anna. Farah was efficiently ruthless in her preparations.

Anna was there. She was stunning, perhaps the most breathtaking I had ever seen her, enveloped in a white couture gown of heavy silk that shimmered like fresh snow. Her hair, usually wild and unbound, was swept up into a severe, elegant style that crowned her like a queen. Her smile was wide, perfectly placed, the practiced, flawless expression of a socialite, a powerful Alpha/CEO, a woman who had orchestrated this entire event. Yet, for all its practiced brilliance, for all the success it projected, it failed to reach her eyes. Those eyes, caught in the harsh lens of the camera, looked distant, carrying a deep, inexplicable shadow that seemed to swallow the light. Her hand rested lightly on Vincent’s arm, a familiar gesture of partnership, but her body was held a crucial fraction of an inch too distant. It was a subtle, physical space that screamed reluctance only to the one person in the world who knew h