Lahat ng Kabanata ng Rejected Mate: Rise of the Lycan Princess : Kabanata 91 - Kabanata 100

Cain's POV The air in my territory felt different. Heavier. More restless. Even before I reached the main hall, I could sense the tension threading through the pack. Wolves moved quickly between buildings. Conversations stopped when I passed. Eyes followed me with expectation. Something was wrong. Again. I pushed open the doors to the council room and stepped inside. My father stood at the head of the table, speaking with three senior warriors. Maps were spread across the surface, marked with familiar red lines. Rogue activity. I exhaled slowly. So it wasn’t just Frostbite. It was spreading. My father noticed me immediately. “Cain.” “Father.” The room quieted. One of the warriors stepped aside to give me space at the table. “What’s happening?” I asked. My father slid a report toward me. “Rogue sightings have increased along the northern border.” I scanned the document quickly. The pattern looked familiar. Too familiar. “These aren’t random movements,” I said.

Cora's POV The morning after the attack felt heavier than the snow outside. Frostbite was repairing fences, tending to injured wolves, and reinforcing patrol lines. The entire pack moved with quiet urgency. I stood in the training circle again, the same stone arena where my mother had trained me yesterday. The air was crisp, biting against my skin. My breath formed faint clouds in front of me. My mother stood across from me, hands clasped behind her back. No weapon today. “This will be different,” she said calmly. I nodded. “I’m ready.” She studied me carefully. “Are you?” That question lingered. Because ever since yesterday’s training session, something inside me had felt… different. Restless. Alive. Almost impatient. “Yes,” I answered. She walked toward the edge of the stone circle and placed a small iron target on a wooden stand. “Focus on it.” I frowned slightly. “That’s it?” “For now.” I turned to face the target. It was simple. Circ

Cora's POV The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting golden light across the royal study. Outside the tall windows, snow fell in steady silence, turning Frostbite into a world of white and stillness. Inside, however, the air felt heavier ..... not with cold, but with history. My mother had asked me to meet her alone. She sat across from me at the long oak table, hands folded calmly in front of her. The room smelled faintly of parchment, wood smoke, and the lavender oil she always used. Her presence was steady .... but her eyes carried something thoughtful tonight. “You’ve been feeling the pressure,” she began gently. I didn’t deny it. “Power changes everything,” I said quietly. “It changes how others see you. How they move around you.” She nodded once. “Yes. And it changes who comes forward.” That made me pause. She leaned back slightly, studying me the way she had for the past month — assessing, but not judging. “There is something in our history you

Eric's POV The scent hit me before we even crossed the ridge. Old smoke. Dried blood. And something else — something foul. Anton moved beside me quietly, scanning the snow-covered terrain below. The tracks were subtle, but to a trained eye, impossible to miss. It wasn't scattered. Nor panicked. Directed. “They’re moving in the same pattern,” Anton murmured. I nodded. The rogues we had fought days ago hadn’t retreated randomly. They had withdrawn in calculated intervals .... leaving minimal traces, but not enough to disappear completely. Which meant one thing. They didn’t want to be found. But they also weren’t trying very hard to hide. That alone told me this wasn’t simple aggression. It was strategy. We followed the trail down into a shallow valley bordered by rocks and frozen brush. There ... partially concealed beneath snow .... sat the remains of a camp. Anton crouched first. I joined him. The fire pit was still visible. Cold. But recent. Ash patterns to

Third Person's POV From a distance, Frostbite appeared calm. Snow drifted gently across its borders. Lights glowed within the main structures. Patrols moved with discipline along the perimeter. To an ordinary observer, it looked like stability. To me, it looked like preparation. I stood at the edge of the mountain ridge, far beyond their patrol range. The wind moved across the elevation, but it did not disturb my stance. I did not need warmth. I did not need visibility. I needed perspective. Below, Frostbite had strengthened its defenses. Watch rotations increased. Outer boundaries expanded. Training intensified. The Alpha had responded correctly. Which meant he understood the scale of threat. Good. Behind me, footsteps approached quietly. John Snow. He stopped at a respectful distance. The rogues under his coordination had repositioned according to instruction. He no longer acted independently. He waited for direction. That was acceptable. His gaze followed