All Chapters of Four Times Rejected, Destined for The Throne: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

In the days that followed, I committed myself to adjusting to the new reality that had quietly but irrevocably taken hold of me. I was no longer alone. Within me, two pups were growing, new life, new responsibilities and the weight of that truth settled deeper with each passing moment. My hands drifted instinctively to my belly, where a subtle swelling had begun to form. It was strange to think I hadn’t noticed it earlier, hadn’t felt the shift in my own body. But then, when I stood in front of the mirror and truly looked, the change was undeniable. The curve was visible, impossible to ignore. Two pups. For a moment, fear gripped me. This was unfamiliar ground. I’d never had much experience with little wolves, never allowed myself to imagine what motherhood might feel like. It always seemed like something distant, something that belonged to other women, never to me. But now, it was no long

"Please, can you lower your energy? I am only the daughter of a Head Warrior, your authority is overwhelming me," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around my body as if to protect myself from the imposing pair. I bowed my head, trying to shield myself from the powerful aura that radiated from them. Even Era felt threatened. With her tail between her legs, she dared a cautious peek at the two men. They were a force of nature, an untamed power that made my very essence tremble. "We were sent by King Arthur," the man repeated, now a little softer. "I am Royal Warrior Ethan. We have Alpha Atticus in our dungeon, he is accused of disrespect toward the Crown and ignoring prison rules." Dazed, I switched my gaze from one to the other, not knowing what to make of this news. The chapter of Atticus had been closed for me a long time ago. I had a new life now, and the horrors of that fateful evening, the failed mating ceremony of Axel and

"Jor, is it Manager Andrew?" I asked, a thin veil over the panic in my own mind. "Girl, you're in big trouble. If his wife finds out about this, you're going to be in a world of hurt!" My words were a desperate attempt to deflect attention, to get a momentary stay of execution for myself. What explanation did I have for my friend for keeping my relationship with the Hawk a secret? And how could I possibly confess that I had been deceived and fallen in love with my fated mate's murderer? I knew she would be so disappointed in me, I didn't know if my actions could be forgiven or if our friendship could survive this. Jor's face cracked with naked emotion, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Her eyes began to well with tears, and a deep sob escaped from her chest. The mask she had been wearing finally shattered, revealing the deep pain underneath. "Anna, my life is a complete mess," she confessed, thick with emo

The sound of sharp claws scrambling rapidly over the stone wall shattered my fragile peace. I strained my senses, desperately trying to pinpoint the scent of the approaching visitor to prepare myself for either a friend or a foe. The sound was too quick, too efficient, for a simple animal. My heart hammered against my ribs, a familiar beat of dread, as the noise grew closer, ascending the side of the building with unnatural speed. Before I could even identify what I might be dealing with, a massive, muscular wolf appeared on the ledge before me, his powerful physique taking up what felt like the entire space of the balcony. He was a high-ranking, I knew instantly. His sheer size and commanding build had a strange familiarity, a resemblance to the Lycans I had met just yesterday. His presence radiated authority, but it was tinged with an undercurrent of desperation that I couldn't place.

After an emotional farewell to Jor, the long drive back to the villa felt steeped in a suffocating silence. The moment I stepped out of the car, the warm, salty air that had once felt so welcoming now carried a chilling sense of desolation. I stood on the sprawling terrace, a place where Atticus and I had shared so many nights, and the beauty of the scene, the gentle, rhythmic lapping of the river against the shore and the soothing green expanse of the forest, was now a cruel mockery. This house, this life, had been a lie. A beautiful, meticulously crafted lie. My time here felt like a vivid, all-consuming dream, intense and fleeting. It was in this very house that my pups had been conceived, in a bed that had felt like a sanctuary of love. But the central figure in that dream, the man I had believed in so completely, was not who he seemed. The Hawk, Atticus, was a liar, a betrayer, a murderer.