Todos los capítulos de Rejected Mate: Rise of the Lycan Princess : Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

Cora's POV:The forest releases me reluctantly.My paws slow near the edge of the pack lands, breath coming hard and satisfied, chest still humming with the echo of my run. The night clings to me, reluctant to let go, and for a moment I just stand there—ears twitching, heart steady and strong—memorizing the way freedom feels in this body.Soon, my wolf murmurs, content and warm.The shift back hurts more than the first time did.My bones protest as they draw inward, muscles burning as fur melts away into skin. I bite down on the sound clawing up my throat and brace my hands against the side of the pack house until the world steadies. When it’s over, I’m shaking, bare feet planted against cool stone, lungs dragging in air like I’ve forgotten how to breathe any other way.I slip inside through the back entrance, careful, quiet. The house smells different now—richer, layered with dozens of familiar pack scents, but beneath them all is something new. Something electric. The welcome-back

Cora's POV:I ran.My lungs burned, legs screaming, but I couldn’t stop—not when five rogue wolves were snapping at my heels. My wolf surged beneath my skin, claws pressing into the earth, senses sharp, instincts screaming. I darted between trees, weaving through trunks, leaping over roots and rocks, trying to use the forest to my advantage.One of them lunged, teeth grazing my arm. Pain lanced through me, sharp and immediate, and I stumbled—but then I felt it: the healing. My skin tingled, warmth spreading over the cut, stitching itself closed before my eyes.I stumbled back, startled. “What…?” I whispered, heart still hammering. My wolf growled, curious, reveling in the new strength. I flexed my hands and flexed my legs. Everything hurt less. Everything moved faster. I could do this. I could survive.The rogues snarled behind me, frustrated, circling, trying to cut me off. I knew the forest better than they did—or at least my wolf instincts did. I ducked low behind a fallen tree, ho

Cora's POV: Morning comes quietly in the forest. No bells. No voices. No pack calling me home. I wake curled against the base of a massive oak, leaves pressed into my cheek, the earth cold beneath my spine. For one terrifying second, I forget where I am—then the ache in my chest reminds me. The bond. The absence. The hollow space where a future should have been. I sit up slowly, listening. The forest breathes around me. Birds chatter high above, insects hum softly, and somewhere in the distance something large moves through the underbrush. Not threatening. Just alive. I am alone. The realization should break me. Instead… it steadies me. I reach into my bag and pull out what little I have left—dry, stale bread and my nearly empty water bottle. I eat the remaining bread slowly, forcing myself to chew every bite, then twist the cap open and drink the rest of the water. When it’s empty, I screw the lid back on and tuck it away, the finality of it settling deep in my chest. No

Cora's POV I wake slowly. The forest is quiet, the kind of quiet that feels earned rather than empty. For a long moment, I stay still, afraid that if I move, everything will come crashing back at once. Pain is there—but muted. I sit up with a hiss, muscles trembling under the effort. My body feels sealed, whole. The wounds from last night are gone, skin smooth where claws and teeth had torn me open. But the strength hasn’t come back with it. I feel hollowed out, weak, like I’m moving through water. Healing takes something out of you. I can feel it now. I make my way to the river slowly, leaning against trees when my legs threaten to give out. I kneel at the edge and wash the dried blood from my skin, watching the water turn red before it’s carried away. My reflection stares back at me—pale, exhausted, eyes too sharp, too wary. I eat what’s left of the deer meat from yesterday, forcing myself to swallow even though my stomach twists. I need the strength. I don’t have a choice.

Cora's POV I wake slowly. The first thing I notice is the light. Gentle, golden, spilling through the windows of the room. My body feels heavy, still aching from the fight, but the worst of the pain has dulled. My muscles tremble as I shift slightly, testing each limb. Then I notice her. Sitting in the chair next to the bed, smiling softly at me. She has red hair that catches the sunlight in fiery streaks, green eyes that are almost too bright, too warm for someone so young. My body tenses instantly. I don’t know her. I don’t trust anyone. But her smile—it isn’t threatening. It’s gentle, almost shy. “Hey,” she says softly, voice melodic and soothing. “You’re awake. That’s… really good.” I stare at her, unsure if I should speak. My throat feels raw, my lips dry. “I’m Hannah,” she says, as if sensing my hesitation. “Hannah Williams. I… I’m Eric’s younger sister.” I blink, taking in her features. There’s a striking resemblance, the same sharp green eyes, the same fiery red