Addicted to His Rejected Mate のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

[Sera] I don't know who moves first. Maybe it is me, maybe it is the wolf wearing Killian's face. But suddenly my lips are on his, and every careful wall I have built over the last month comes crashing down like cheap drywall. The next second, restraint is a word that belongs to other people. My body leaves the ground so fast my stomach flips. His hands—big, rough, impossibly strong—grip my ass and lift me like I weigh nothing. I wrap my legs around his waist on pure instinct, arms locking around his neck, pressing myself against every hard inch of him. He is burning hot, muscles rigid, and the thick ridge of his cock grinds against me through his pants with every step, sending sparks up my spine that make my thighs shake. He doesn't take me back to the couch. He carries me across the room in long, predatory strides until my back slams into the floor-to-ceiling window. The glass is ice-cold against my shoulders, and I suck in a sharp breath, shivering hard. Outside, the cit

[Killian] The Voss estate sits on forty acres of old-growth forest north of the city, behind wrought-iron gates that haven't rusted in a century because someone is paid specifically to ensure they don't. The drive is lined with oaks—bare now, skeletal fingers against the gray sky. The house looms at the end: stone and iron and old money. My prison and my throne. Liam drops me at the entrance. He doesn't offer to come in. The estate has its own gravity, and outsiders—even trusted Betas—feel it the moment they cross the threshold. I step through the front doors and the silence swallows me. Polished marble. Dark wood paneling. Portraits of dead Voss Alphas lining the hallway, each one staring down with the same gray eyes I see in every mirror. My father is conspicuously absent from the wall. Grandfather had the portrait removed the day after the funeral. Erased him from the bloodline's visual record as efficiently as he'd erased the scandal. I'm halfway to the study when a voice d

[Sera] I step out of the elevator, my bandaged wrist throbbing like a bad reminder, and there she is. Victoria Thorn. Standing in the hallway like she owns the damn building—which, let's be real, she probably could if she wanted to. Her white cashmere coat hugs her figure perfectly. And her hair is flawless, waves cascading like she just stepped out of a salon ad. Meanwhile, I'm over here in my wrinkled coat, hair frizzed from a day of steam and sweat, looking like the before picture in a makeover show. Her eyes light up the second she spots Killian, and she hurries over like he's the only thing in her universe. "Killian!" She loops her arm through his, natural as breathing. I catch the tiniest tense in his shoulders, but he doesn't pull away. Doesn't even flinch. Just stands there, letting her claim the space. My stomach twists. I should've known. The gossip at the café this morning wasn't just idle chatter. She's back, and here she is, staking her territory. "I've been

[Sera]The words hang in the air like smoke from a dying fire. "Victoria won’t come here anymore."I stare at the coffee mug in my hands, steam curling up lazy and indifferent, while my heart does this stupid, traitorous flip.What the hell does that mean? Is he making some kind of declaration? Or is it just practical—keeping his dirty little secret tucked away from prying eyes?My brain spins like a hamster on espresso, chasing interpretations that probably don'

[Sera]The coffee shop feels like a tomb after Victoria storms out, her perfume lingering like an unwelcome guest. Outside, the sky has pulled a full-on mood swing in the last ten minutes, storm clouds sagging low like they're about to dropkick the city. Lightning cracks the gray like a bad special effect, and rain hammers the windows, turning the street into a blurry watercolor mess.Killian stands there, a human glacier in a tailored coat, having just iced his almost-fiancée right in front of me. And now? Now he's turning those steel-gray eyes on me, like I'm the one who crashed the party."You seem quite adept at causing trouble."The words land like a slap from a velvet glove—soft but stinging. My heart jackhammers, not from fear, but from that twisted guilt gnawing at my gut.Yeah, I said it. That line about him being the one who wouldn't let me go? I lobbed it at Victoria like a grenade, just to watch her perfect mask crack. Petty? Absolutely. Satisfying? For about five seconds.