Todos los capítulos de Four Times Rejected, Destined for The Throne: Capítulo 161 - Capítulo 170

Prince Atticus’ Point of View still My lavish chamber, once a haven, had turned hollow, its quiet pressing in like a cage. The weeks since the public rejection had stretched into an eternity, marked only by the intense, consuming need to find Anna. The loneliness was a crushing weight, but the guilt of the Eluna incident was lifting, replaced by a desperate need to explain myself to the only woman who mattered. I sent thousands of messages to Anna’s phone number, pleading, explaining the nature of the pull, begging for her understanding, and assuring her, over and over, that my love for her was the only true reality. ‘I rejected the fated mate, Anna. I did it for you. You are my only choice. Please come back!’ The silence was the worst punishment. Every text vanished into the void, unanswered, unacknowledged. I barely slept, relying only on the occasional update from Jax to maintain my san

Anna’s Point of View The Eclipse Howl packhouse buzzed with activity. It was a frantic, unsettling kind of energy that contrasted sharply with my own hollow despair. Looking over the balcony of my guest room, I saw crews placing extravagant decorations everywhere, draping heavy silks and stringing lights. In the vast, open gardens below, the rich, savory smoke of roasted meat curled skyward from a massive traditional pit. It was an elaborate, almost theatrical display. The superficial explanation I had been given, that this celebration was merely for the pack administrator Suzanne, was a flimsy curtain over a much deeper game. I do not believe it for a second, but I was determined not to interfere, my presence here was temporary, and their internal affairs were not my concern. I pulled back from the railing, the noise and the cheer of the preparations grating on my frayed nerves. I moved to

Anna’s Point of View still Instantaneously I partially shift, responding to the cold, undeniable alarm shrieking through my system. Era was already boiling with fierce eagerness, ready to settle the score with the manipulative Beta who stood before me. The primitive, desperate need to defend myself and the secret of my pups shook the air. My human composure shattered. My eyes flared a deep, terrifying crimson as my lips curled into a vicious snarl, my fangs erupting through them with a savage gleam. My fingernails elongated into razor-sharp claws, poised to strike, to rip. The air around me grew dense and hot. Anderson staggered back a full step, the carefully maintained façade of casual ease finally crumbling under the unexpected ferocity of my reaction. He did not immediately shift, but his arms snapped up, crossed defensively in front of his chest. His Beta eyes widened, struggling to conceal the terror

The sharp tang of adrenaline and blood still clung to the air, a brutal echo of everything we’d endured but none of it touched to me. All I could smell was Anna. All I breathed, all I knew, was her Her scent—my sanctuary, my truth, my unshakable peace—cut through the stale fear and smothered the rancid stench of Anderson’s retreat, her ex-mate. He was her past, a mistake I still had to confront. But she was here now, in my arms, and nothing else mattered. I had surrendered a Crown, cast off the weight of legacy and power, but in her arms, I felt like a king who had finally claimed his genuine, sovereign prize. Not the kind forged by bloodlines or politics, but one shaped by love, by choice, by the quiet miracle of her survival. I pressed my face into her hair, breathing her in like salvation. Her breath warmed my neck, fragile and real. She slightly trembled, a lingering tremor from everything she’d fought through. And I held her tighter,

I lay beside Anna, listening to the soft, rhythmic sigh of her sleep. The air in the room, heavy with the lingering scent of our sex and the sweet exhaustion of her body, was the only reality that mattered. Even in this stillness, a sharp ache burned beneath my ribs, a need so raw it blurred everything else. I turned to the only soul I trusted completely, offering the fragile truth of my desire. ‘Slade,’ I pleaded, the word laced with genuine, paternal longing. ‘You heard my promise. I gave up everything for this woman. I rejected my fated mate. I brought her home, claiming her publicly before the entire society. I need something that shapes our love into flesh, a part of us that can never be taken. A permanent piece of our future, belonging only to the Moon Howlers and to us.’ My hand, resting on her hip, unconsciously drifted lower to the smooth, warm plane of her lower abdomen. I needed that tiny, pulsi