บททั้งหมดของ Four Times Rejected, Destined for The Throne: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

Across the globe, viewers of the WMN media company watched with bated breath as the interview unfolded, where the private lives of Alpha Ettire and the business she-wolf Anna had now taken center stage. Ettire stood there on the podium, his posture stiff, his voice still echoing faintly from the disastrous statement he’d just delivered. Anna had checkmated him, this was her perfect revenge, exposed before the entire community. No hearsay, no speculation. Just the raw, unfiltered truth. The livestream hadn’t cut. Thousands were still watching, breaking all previous records. Comments flooded in, brutal and fast, like digital claws. Screens across the city lit up with his unraveling. A reporter in the back, a young woman with sharp eyes and a cynical smirk, whispered to her colleague. "What is wrong with this man? He confirms he initiated the rejection and that Anna is not his fated mate anymore but his body l

He stood slowly, a tall shadow rising from the couch, and even in the darkness I could feel his gaze on me. It wasn't just visual, it was physical, like a pressure I could feel against my skin, like heat blooming across my collarbones. The air filled with his scent, and my wolf went completely still. Not out of fear. But out of recognition, of surrender. He was here. He had come back.And he had chosen this moment, this night, when I was victorious and utterly alone. I didn't speak. I couldn't. My throat felt tight, my breath shallow. I watched him step forward, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. His mask was still on, but I didn't need to see his face to know what he was feeling. I could feel it in the way the room shifted around him, in the way my body responded without permission. "I didn't know if you'd come," I finally said, low and steady, thou

In the frigid silence of the prison in Antarctica, Atticus, the Alpha, finally returned. The cold, relentless wind of the South Pole had erased his scent, but the guard at the entrance immediately recognized his silhouette against the white landscape. The man looked furious. “Atticus! Why are you returning this late?! You nearly got us into serious trouble!” the guard yelled. The guard, named Henry who had worked at the base for years, was deeply vexed. It was already broad daylight when his most distinguished inmate casually strolled back into the facility. Atticus, wrapped in a thick coat, shrugged indifferently. “What's the matter? I don't need breakfast, and don't worry about me for the rest of the day,” he declared boredly. He walked pass the man, directly toward his cell, his head still floating on cloud nine. He saw Anna's confession as a promise that would clear the

Alpha Atticus Point of View “Damn! Shit! Damn!” I slammed my head against the cushioned wall of the helicopter for the hundredth time. The frustration was a hot, bitter taste in my mouth, and I raged at my failed attempts to reach my Beta. I have to get a message to Jax, to warn him of my desperate situation and my whereabouts. Again and again I tried the mind link, but the vast distance between us was an impenetrable wall of static. “Damn it! I should have seen this coming!” I cursed, looking down at the endless expanse of a world passing beneath me. The helicopter had landed three times already to refuel, a clear sign that this mission was a last-minute, urgent order. The King must have been furious, insulted by my perceived lack of respect. I was certain he was determined to make an example of me. My only regret, the thought that ate at me with a cold, hollow dread, was

Anna’s Point of View For what felt like the thousandth time, I stood on my terrace, my gaze fixed on the horizon, toward the silent river below. I strained my ears, hoping for the slightest sound of an approaching boat, the distant rumble of an engine cutting through the oppressive stillness. Sometimes, I tilted my head to the sky, hoping to catch the familiar thrum of a helicopter’s rotors, or I would scan the thick, dark treeline that encircled the villa, my eyes darting between the shadows. But the silence persisted, a heavy, relentless blanket that had settled over everything for weeks. At night, I lay awake for hours, my mind a churning ocean of questions, waiting for a sign, anything that would tell me he was coming back. I would only fall into a fitful, shallow sleep out of sheer exhaustion, to wake up the next morning, terribly late, yet still profoundly weary. It was as if rest itself refused to reach me.