All Chapters of A slave to the alpha I rejected : Dark erotica 18+: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

The queen’s banquet is in full swing, with guests arriving from every pack. Nyssa planned the three-day-long celebration for the queen’s welcome, earning Syzar’s praise and swelling with pride at the extravagant display. The Silver City’s guests arrived early—Chief Archon, Emorott, and, surprisingly, the Bluestone Pack alpha, Korak, who could not attend due to sudden illness. His children came in his place: the second prince, Maverick, and Maeve, the king’s beloved daughter. Xaden had been the first prince of the Bluestone Pack and Syzar’s best friend, but he died during the siege, leaving Maverick as the next heir. Their entrance into the royal throne room stirred whispers. They stood proud, their dark brown hair and matching blue eyes unmistakably their father’s. Maeve wore a sunflower-yellow dress with a gold diadem and jeweled circlets that proclaimed her status. Her brother, leading her, was dressed in fine silk, a dark jacket adorned with the blue stones of their

Celeste writhes and thrashes in the men’s hold, sick to her stomach. Just as Archon is about to have his way, the door bursts open. She uses the distraction to bite down on Emorott’s wrist until she draws blood, leaving a mark that will likely scar. Emorott hisses in pain, his glare shifting to the intruder. Celeste looks over in panic. Dark brown hair and ice-blue eyes lock with hers—an instantly familiar face. Maverick, the male who helped her earlier! His eyes blaze with violence. Archon and Emorott stiffen under the thick, threatening aura that fills the room. Both men release Celeste and turn toward Maverick. “This isn’t your business, boy. Get lost,” they growl, their distaste plain. But Maverick doesn’t relent. Archon hisses, “Let’s go. It’ll get rowdy and draw attention—we don’t want that.” Emorott looks furious. “Fuck! This isn’t over, Ayvoc. Your sweet cunt will be ours.” They don’t look back as they leave. Celeste stays crouched in the corner, her eyes a

A shiver ran down Celeste’s spine as she heard Derek’s voice. “I have missed you so much, my sweet sister.” His body was laced with cuts and lumps of dried blood, but as Celeste stared at her brother, she felt no love or pity—only the memory of the man who had hidden his true, ruthless side from her. All she could recall as she stared at him was Syzar’s wounded and tortured state back in the Crossvale pack. The unending mental and physical torment, the despair of losing his sister violated to her death and his mother, Vamara, who had succumbed to madness. Being locked in a dungeon was nothing compared to that. And as she looked into Derek’s eyes, she saw insanity in his gaze. He stared at her with pure lust, his eyes roaming hungrily over the dress Nyssa had given her to wear. “I knew you would come to your senses and see that I am your only family left. Come here, sister. Let me out now. Let’s run away, we’ll get our revenge on these bastards together. Quickly!” he

The feeling of a thousand hot knives stabbing Celeste’s heart hadn’t stopped, not even after Syzar’s cold words. Now, sitting with Vamara, her thoughts held her hostage again and again. Vamara lay sleeping on the daybed while Celeste sat in the outdoor gazebo, overlooking the courtyard and the distant horizon. She was glad for the queen’s presence, though she couldn’t ignore the increased number of guards around them. They didn’t trust her. She knew suspicions lingered—from Syzar and the pack—about her involvement in her brother’s escape. But Vamara still needed her as a companion, and that was her saving grace. Their quiet moment was interrupted when Maeve stepped forward, clearing her throat softly to announce her presence. She glanced at Celeste before taking a seat. “Princess Maeve…” Celeste began, knowing she owed her much. Maeve looked out over the gazebo toward the beautiful park and sunset. “You may not remember me, Ayvoc, but I recall seeing you eight years ago

News of Queen Vamara’s attack spread throughout the castle, sparking an uproar. Celeste had been stabbed by a cloaked assailant while protecting the queen, and guards now swept the palace in search of the attacker. Syzar’s rage did not ease. His body was locked in possessive, protective mode as he held Celeste tightly until Muriel arrived. Her blood loss was rapid, her skin pale as snow, the dark stain spreading across her dress and skin. Syzar’s hands remained wrapped around her, his eyes a blazing crimson, a growl on his lips warning any male to stay away. His demeanor startled the guards, who bowed low as Muriel hurried in. The young healer’s eyes widened at the scene. She quickly knelt beside Celeste and began working, the alpha holding his breath as she assessed the damage. “What in the moons happened here?” Muriel muttered, rummaging through her pack for herbs as Celeste drifted in and out of consciousness. Muriel poured a dark blue vial of crushed herbs dire