All Chapters of THE MATE HE COULDN'T CLAIM : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Chapter 11Caleb’s MercyPOV: Adelina McKennaThere’s a kind of pain that burns too deep for tears.The kind that hollows you out, silences your scream, and leaves you standing in a body that doesn’t feel like yours anymore.That’s where I was.Three hours after Daxon Reyes severed our bond in front of the entire Silver Fang Pack.Three hours after I watched the man fate tied me to turn his back and walk away like I’d never mattered.Like I’d never even existed.The pain was still there, radiating from my chest like a wound that wouldn’t clot. My wolf was silent, withdrawn, coiled deep inside me. I couldn’t feel her the way I had before. Not fully.The bond wasn’t just broken.It was torn out.And the hole it left behind wasn’t just emotional. It was spiritual.I couldn’t shift. Could barely breathe.But I could hear.And what I heard now just outside my door changed everything.“…she’s still in her room?”A gruff male voice. I didn’t recognize it.“Yes,” a second voice said. Maren. C

Chapter 13 Into the MountainsPOV: Adelina McKennaThe mountains don’t care who you are.Not your name. Not your title. Not even the blood in your veins.They’ll either break you.Or build you.And sometimes, they do both.Mama Oya woke me before sunrise the next morning, pulling aside the heavy curtain in the den with a sharp snap that made my entire body flinch.“No more sleep,” she said. “You’ve been sleeping your whole life.”I groaned, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders. My ribs still ached from the fall I’d taken before finding the ruins. My muscles screamed from running two days through the backcountry. I was half-starved and barely able to shift.She didn’t care.“Come. Outside. Now.”I dragged myself to my feet, shoved my arms through the sleeves of my coat, and followed her up the winding stairwell to the ruined cabin above.The snow had melted under the morning sun, but frost still coated the beams and blackened earth. In the light, I could see the old foundat

Chapter 15Marked by FlamePOV: Adelina McKennaThere’s a moment just before your world changes when everything goes quiet.A silence that’s not just soundless but sacred.A breath before the howl.A stillness before the burn.I stood in the center of the stone circle, the blood still warm on my palm, dripping down the ancient altar stone. The mountains around me seemed to hold their breath, the air thick with something that shimmered on my skin like static and prophecy.The flame wolves spirit echoes of Matrons past circled me slowly. Four of them. One white, one black, one silver, and one glowing like embers.None spoke. They didn’t need to.I felt them.Their memories pressed into my bones. Their grief. Their rage. Their power.And their promise.I had called to them.And they had answered.Mama Oya stood at the edge of the circle, arms crossed, her breath fogging in the chill morning air. She was calm but I could see it in her eyes.This was not ceremonial.This was real.“You’ve

Chapter 18 Ashes of Hollow Moon POV: Adelina McKennaThe mountains shifted as I moved north.They grew sharper, the air thinner, the silence deeper. The deeper I climbed, the more it felt like I was walking into the breath of the past.The land changed underfoot too. The trees leaned differently. The air was older. Every footstep echoed with something I couldn’t name grief, maybe. Or warning.By the third day, I found the glyph Oya mentioned.A moon, carved into the stone of a cliff wall.Not a perfect circle.A crescent etched in flame.It glowed faintly when I touched it, warm against my fingers.A lock.Or a call.I followed the trail beyond it, up a path that no map marked, past a crumbled tree line, until the ridge opened to a sunken valley.There, nestled between jagged rocks and cloaked in shadow, stood what remained of the Hollow Moon refuge.A stone keep, half-collapsed.A ring of abandoned shelters, cracked and moss-covered.Old bones scattered across a training yard, thei

Chapter 19Blood in the Snow POV: Adelina McKennaThe mountain never sleeps.Not really.Even in winter, even when the wind howls and the stars hide, something stirs in the roots. In the dark. Beneath the frost.The morning after I left three Silver Fang enforcers bleeding in the snow, the mountain stirred again.And it brought me a message.I found it just before dawn.Folded in wax-sealed parchment. Hidden beneath the broken hoof of a dying deer near the southern edge of the valley. It had been planted deliberately ritualistically beneath spilled blood.Not left.Offered.I approached slowly, crouched low, and inhaled.The deer hadn’t died from a hunt.Its throat was slit.Not clawed.Knife work.Human precision. Wolf ruthlessness.Someone wanted me to find this.The scent on the parchment was faint. But I knew it instantly.Caleb.I waited until I was back in the den before I opened it.Oya watched from across the fire as I peeled away the wax, revealing parchment inked in sharp,