All Chapters of The Alpha King's One-Time Rejected Mate: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The fire burned low, its glow soft and amber against the walls of the village home. Outside, night had settled deep over the valley, blanketing the world in quiet. For once, there were no council summonses, no alarms, no cries of war — only the hush of wind through the pines and the sound of Lucian’s steady breathing beside Talia.She sat curled against a pile of furs, an old book resting on her knees — The Legacy of Flamebearers, a text Alina had brought her from the palace archives. Her eyes skimmed the words, though she hardly read them. Her focus lingered on the gentle swell of her stomach and the small, rhythmic motions beneath her palm. The life within her stirred again, a ripple of warmth and movement that drew a faint smile to her lips.“They’re restless tonight,” she murmured.Lucian’s deep voice carried a hint of amusement. “They get that from you.”Talia’s smile widened. “Hardly. You were born restless, King of Fire.”He chuckled, the sound low and intimate. “And yet somehow

Lucian POVLucian decided to let Talia get as much sleep as possible before they left for the inner city. Whatever strength she had left, she would need it behind stone walls and ancient wards, not here in a mountain house that pretended to be safe.The fire had burned low, little more than a hush of orange coals. Lucian sat awake beside it, boots planted on the stone floor, elbows resting on his knees, listening to the quiet as soldiers listened for ghosts.Quiet never meant peace.It meant waiting.Talia lay in the next room, her breathing soft and even—too even. Lately, even her sleep felt heavy, as if rest no longer reached all the way to her bones. She spoke less each day. Laughed less. The spark in her eyes—the one that had survived exile, war, prophecy, and blood—had dulled into something fragile and distant, like a star seen through fog.He’d told himself it was exhaustion.That carrying three lives would weigh on any woman.But tonight, he had learned it was more.Through thei

Snow still fell, but thinner now, the wind easing just enough to let scent through.Ash.Blood.Burned fur.Talia slowed Alder instinctively. Kaela stirred beneath her skin—not loud, not demanding, but alert. Watchful. Her wolf had been unusually quiet since Talia left the mountain house. Not sulking. Not petulant. Kaela did that when she didn’t get her runs, when she felt ignored—an obnoxious two-year-old in spirit who could flood Talia with restless energy until she laughed or gave in.This was different.Kaela wasn’t restless.She was grieving.“I know,” Talia murmured under her breath. “I feel it too.”They crested the ridge, and the world below came into view.What had once been an outpost was now a grave without markers.Charred beams jutted from the snow at crooked angles, blackened and split. The border marker—etched generations ago with oaths of loyalty and protection—lay shattered in two, its runes scorched beyond recognition. Smoke no longer rose, but the smell lingered, hea

Lucian POVBy the time dawn came, the snow had stopped falling.The world outside glowed a pale gold, a fragile light that could make even ruin look holy. Lucian stood on the palace balcony, hands braced against the stone rail, eyes fixed on the horizon.He’d been awake all night, searching through the mate bond, tracing every flicker of warmth, every echo that wasn’t pain. And somewhere in the quiet hours before sunrise, it happened.A pulse.Not of fear.Not of grief.But something else—something soft, bright, and alive.It spread through the link like sunlight breaking through storm clouds, wrapping around him before he could even catch his breath: warmth, laughter, the sound of a woman humming softly by a fire.Talia.He could feel her. Not in words, not even in thoughts—but in feeling. The bond pulsed with gentle joy, lightness, peace.For the first time in months, he smiled.The wind shifted across the balcony, cold against his face. It couldn’t touch the warmth in his chest. He

Dual POV — Lucian / TaliaThe moon rose early that night.Round. Silver. Too bright for a world trying to hide its sins.Lucian sat beside the campfire with his hood drawn low, the ring clenched in his palm as if it were the only thing anchoring him to the ground. Cassius slept a few yards away, armor stacked neatly at his side, but sleep had never been an option for Lucian tonight.The bond hummed.Not loud. Not demanding.Present.A steady rhythm beneath his ribs, like a second heartbeat that refused to be ignored.She was awake.He closed his eyes and let the fire answer him.Not command. Not prayer.A quiet truth sent along the bond.Show me, love. Just one sign you’re safe.The flames shifted.They lifted higher than they should have—steady, controlled, gold deepening into white. Heat rippled outward, bending the night air. Then the fire changed, its center thinning, stretching—A silhouette formed.Feminine. Familiar.Loose hair. A cloak falling from narrow shoulders.Lucian’s b