All Chapters of Rise of the Alpha's King Rejected Mate : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Lyra The Blackthorne stronghold rose before me like something out of legend–stone walls carved with ancient runes, towers piercing the sky, banners of deep obsidian fluttering against the wind. It was too polished, too perfect, and that alone set my instincts on edge. Packs like mine scraped survival from dirt and blood. Packs like Lucian’s lived as though the moon herself bent low to kiss their feet. “Impressive, isn’t it?” Lucian’s voice brushed against me, smooth and disarming. He stood just behind my shoulder, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Our ancestors built this hall when Blood Moon was still a hunting pack. Every stone has been reforged by loyalty.” I didn’t answer immediately. I wasn’t here to be charmed by architecture or velvet words. But when I finally looked at him, I almost forgot to breathe. Lucian Blackthorne was not what I had expected. I’d imagined a brute, someone who ruled by fear. Instead, he looked carved from the same night sky

The Poisoned Gift The journey back from Lucian’s stronghold was a blur of shadows and restless silence. Lyra carried the vial close to her chest, its weight heavier than any blade. Every step away from that fortress only deepened the unease gnawing at her gut. Marcus walked at her side, limping slightly from the earlier scuffle, though he hid the pain behind a forced smirk. His eyes, however, betrayed his worry. “You shouldn’t trust it,” he said finally, his voice low. “Magic that shimmers like that… it never heals without taking something in return.” Lyra clenched her jaw, staring ahead at the thinning forest path. “And doing nothing means she dies. I’d rather face a curse than bury another innocent.” “Sometimes,” Marcus muttered, “one life can’t be saved without risking many others.” His words landed like stones, but Lyra pushed them away. She knew the dangers, yet she also knew what it meant to feel helpless while someone slipped away. She would not stand by. Not again. By da

A Wolf Divided The camp was restless the next morning. Smoke from the night’s fire still lingered in the air, but the wolves’ voices buzzed like a swarm of bees. Word of Darius’s arrival had spread like wildfire, and now everyone seemed to have an opinion about what should be done with him. Some wanted blood. Others feared him too much to act. And a few, disturbingly, spoke of him with the kind of reverence one would give a king. Lyra heard it all as she walked through camp, her head held high though her stomach twisted with unease. She had been their Luna, their shield, their hope. But with one broken man at the edge of their territory, her authority was already being tested. “Lyra.” Marcus’s voice was sharp behind her. He caught up in three strides, his jaw tight, his eyes burning with the kind of anger that came from fear. “You should have let me finish him last night,” he said flatly. “He’s a danger to all of us. You know it.” Lyra kept walking, though her pace quickened. “H

Shadows at the Gate The first warning came not from the scouts, but from the air itself. Lyra stirred from uneasy sleep, her wolf snapping awake inside her chest. The night was too still, too heavy, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. She sat upright, listening. No wind. No crickets. No owls. Then—howls. Not the cries of her own wolves, but deeper, darker, layered with something unnatural. The sound cut through the camp, dragging everyone from their tents. Warriors scrambled for weapons, mothers gathered their pups, and guards sprinted to the perimeter. Marcus was the first to reach her tent. “They’re here,” he growled, his voice taut with urgency. “Lucian’s pack.” Lyra was already on her feet, fastening her cloak, her heart thundering. She had expected him to test their borders, maybe send a spy or two. But not this soon. Not like this. “Form the lines,” she ordered, striding out into the night. “No one leaves the camp unprotected. Keep the pups and wounded in the i

Into the Forgotten Woods The night refused to end. Lyra tossed restlessly in her tent, every whisper of the wind sounding like Lucian’s laughter, every creak of wood reminding her of the shadows that had clawed at her pack. Sleep mocked her, dangling just out of reach. When at last she gave up, she sat at the edge of her cot, staring at the dim glow of the dying fire outside. Her thoughts circled back to Darius’s words. He wants you. He won’t stop until he has you. The prophecy. The Moon’s chosen. The prize. The words tasted like chains. She pushed herself to her feet, dressed quickly, and slipped into the chill of the night. The camp was still—only a few guards patrolled the perimeter, nodding as she passed. They didn’t question her. She was Luna. But her heart still raced with the guilt of sneaking away, as if her every step was a betrayal. “Going somewhere?” Marcus’s voice broke the silence. He stepped from the shadows, arms crossed, eyes sharp despite the weariness etched i