All Chapters of Rejected By The Alpha, Claimed by His Billionaire Brother: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The Citadel shivered beneath the weight of winter winds, the frost curling along the ramparts like silver claws. Yet inside, the fires of determination burned hotter than any hearth. Aria and Damien stood at the highest tower, overlooking the sprawling lands of their pack, eyes scanning the horizon with the precision of predators. The betrayal had been exposed, the traitors secured—but the Council, cunning and ruthless, was far from defeated.“The Council won’t sit idle,” Damien said, voice low and tense, golden eyes reflecting the frozen expanse beyond. His hand brushed Aria’s, a grounding tether amid the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind. “They’ll strike again. And this time… they’ll strike harder, bolder.”Aria’s chest rose with controlled breaths, wolf coiling beneath her skin, senses alive, attuned to every subtle shift in energy around them. “Then we strike first,” she murmured, eyes narrowing. “We dismantle every plan, crush every hidden hand, and end this before the Counc

Morning did not bring peace.It brought clarity.Aria stood alone in the war chamber as dawn crept through the narrow windows, pale light cutting across stone, maps, and sigils etched deep into the Citadel’s heart. The air hummed faintly with residual magic, the aftermath of wards reinforced overnight, of traitors exposed and removed. Her wolf was awake now, fully alert, no longer restless but watchful, coiled tight beneath her skin like a blade held in readiness.This was what came after victory.Not relief.Responsibility.The Council would not retreat quietly. They never had. They didn’t rage or strike blindly. They adapted. They withdrew only long enough to sharpen knives meant for throats left unguarded.Aria would not leave hers exposed.Footsteps approached behind her, measured and unhurried. Damien entered the chamber without ceremony, black coat discarded, sleeves rolled back, the Alpha no longer armored for battle but for war that unfolded in ink, bloodlines, and consequence

The first scream came from the west.It ripped through the Citadel just before dawn, sharp and panicked, carried by a runner who collapsed at the gates with blood on his hands that wasn’t his own. His wolf barely held together long enough to deliver the message before shock stole his voice.“They burned it,” he gasped. “They burned the whole settlement.”Aria was already moving before the words fully landed.The western outpost had been small. Civilian-heavy. A neutral haven for displaced wolves who had refused to choose either the Council or the Citadel. It had been deliberately unguarded, deliberately nonthreatening.A message.Damien’s face was carved from stone as he read the sigil-confirmed report. “No survivors.”The war room went silent.Not disbelief.Understanding.Aria stood at the center of the chamber, hands braced against the table, power simmering beneath her skin like a living thing straining against restraint. Her wolf did not rage. It went very still.“They didn’t att

The land screamed before the sky did.It was not a sound Aria heard with her ears, but one that clawed its way through her bones, through the marrow of her wolf, through the ancient magic braided into her blood. The Citadel’s wards flared without command, silver light rippling across stone and sky, reacting to a presence that did not belong to this era.Aria woke with a sharp breath, sitting upright as her wolf surged violently beneath her skin.Damien was awake instantly.“What is it?” he demanded, already moving, aura flaring as he reached for her.“He’s awake,” Aria whispered.The words tasted old. Dangerous.Damien went very still. “You’re sure.”She nodded once. “The First Regent isn’t coming.”She swung her legs over the bed, heart hammering. “He’s already crossed the veil.”By dawn, the Citadel was in full lockdown.No one questioned the order.The skies above the eastern territories darkened unnaturally, clouds coiling into slow, deliberate spirals that did not obey wind or we

The city did not celebrate victory.It smoldered.From the balcony of the eastern tower, Aria watched smoke unravel itself into the morning sky, thin gray ribbons drifting where banners should have been. The bells had not rung. No songs rose from the lower districts. The battle of the previous night had ended with the enemy’s retreat, yes, but the cost had been carved too deeply into the stone of the city for joy to find its footing.Victory, she had learned, was not always loud.Sometimes it arrived quietly, dragging bodies behind it.Behind her, the doors creaked open.“You should be resting.”Damien’s voice carried the weight of exhaustion poorly disguised as command. He had changed armor for dark clothes, but the cut on his cheek remained, a thin crimson line like punctuation at the end of a brutal sentence. He looked older this morning. Not weaker, but sharpened, as if something inside him had settled into a colder shape.Aria didn’t turn.“If I lie down, I’ll start counting the