All Chapters of Four Times Rejected, Destined for The Throne: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

A brief, respectful knock echoed against the carved oak, and the heavy door of the bedroom of the twin Princes swung open. Petric, their Best Man and closest confidant, stepped inside. His eyes instinctively darted and then froze for a fraction of a second as his gaze lingered a bit longer on Zara before he forced himself to focus on his friends. “Gentlemen, not ready yet?” he exclaimed with a loud, jovial boom. “The musicians are about to begin the opening set. The hall is a battlefield tonight. Dozens of Alpha females are perfectly positioned, poised like hunters, each one eager, waiting for the moment you enter and recognize her as your fated mate. You have a wide range to choose from, if you were to opt for a chosen mate after all.” He clasped the twins in quick, brotherly embraces, his teasing eyebrows raised, but beneath the jest lay a certain gravity. The burden of destiny, pressed invisibly upon th

‘Yes, Waris. I can smell her. She is ready for us, she is ours.’ The triumphant, thunderous roar of Callus still shook the marrow in my bones, reverberating with the satisfaction of a hunter claiming his territory. Yet as my human mind, the mind of Waris, the Prince, reasserted itself, a devastating counter-truth crashed against the possessive, almost violent joy of my wolf. The territorial urge surging in Callus to claim our mate was an ancient, suffocating wave of instinct, while my own need to be chosen burned so fiercely it felt like it might rip the Lycan apart from the man I was trying to be. The conflicting pressure was a searing pain, a tearing sensation behind my eyes. But I knew better. Calla was not a prize to be claimed, nor a possession to be secured. She was the final, most beautiful fortress of my self-control. That much I had learned from th

The King’s immense third-floor office was not merely cold, it was also a pressurized environment, a deep, airless vacuum of judgment that crushed the silence and made every person present acutely aware of the disaster that had unfolded. The polished oak paneling, usually a testament to Lycan stability, seemed to absorb the light and magnify the darkness of their predicament, while the panoramic window showed the indifferent, cold light of dawn breaking over the Lycan capital. This was no seat of governance, it was a tribunal convened in the shadow of a betrayal. Each face showed its emotions openly: anger, disappointment, and shame written plain. King Atticus, typically the picture of stoic, regal composure, was the most terrifying sight. "Damn! Damn! Damn!" he finally broke, the sound a ragged snarl that ripped through the quiet. He squeezed the bridge of his nose with white-knuckled severity, holding in

Waris had been staring blankly at the ceiling, lost in the icy cavern of his shame, when the familiar, heavy mental signature of his twin brother, Naib Juara, slammed into their private link. It wasn't gentle, it was a necessary mental slap, hard and immediate, meant to jar him out of his paralyzed self-pity. ‘Waris, man, that whole scene was a trainwreck. A total, crushing derailment. Listen, I’m linked in securely, we’re running deep-masking protocols so Father and his paranoid security team can’t listen in. You need to know that you have to fix this with Calla, but honestly, I’ve got no clue how you’re supposed to pull this off. This is the worst thing a mate can do. Calla must be completely broken right now.’ Naib Juara’s, usually a bright, casual current in Waris’s mind, was now deep, serious, and edged with sharp disappointment. The lack of his usual easygoing humor was more damning than any scream. The directness

Petric’s Point of View still Zara was everything I could want. She was kind, honest, and caring. When I looked at her, I felt a deep, warm feeling, the kind of feeling that screams ‘home.’ I wanted her so bad, and the idea of just keeping her safe, letting her be mine, felt like the only thing that mattered. It was a powerful, almost agonizing fantasy. But I knew the actual price. My mom got burned by all the werewolf judgment for years, and I couldn't put Zara through that just because I was a hybrid. It wasn't worth the trouble, no matter how much I wished otherwise. My mother finally left the room. I decided to take a quick, scalding shower, then try to nap, a desperate attempt to chill out my brain and kill some time. I was vibrating with nervous energy. Two hours later, my mother’s voice, tight and urgent, hit my mind link