Rejected Mate: Rise of the Lycan Princess のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Cain's POV The first report comes before sunrise. A patrol along the eastern border was attacked sometime during the night—not a full assault, but enough to leave blood on the ground and fear in the air. Rogues again. Always rogues. Like shadows that refuse to stay where they belong. “They didn’t kill anyone,” the warrior finishes, jaw tight. “But they wanted us to know they were there.” The council room of the Alpha mansion hums with low voices and tension. My father stands at the head of the table, arms crossed, expression carved from stone. “Double the patrols,” he orders. “No lone guards. If they cross our borders again, I want them hunted down.” I nod, already adjusting schedules in my head. Strategy comes easily. Duty always has. It’s the one thing I’ve never questioned. But something inside me feels… off. As the meeting drags on, a sudden sensation hits me so hard my fingers curl into the edge of the table. It’s not pain. It’s absence. The constant pressur

Cain's POV I woke up that morning to sunlight in my face. Not with shouting or sharp commands, but with pale light spilling through the window and the low, steady rhythm of the Frostbite pack waking up. For a long moment, I stay still, listening—boots against stone, quiet voices, the distant sound of wolves shifting forms. Order. Purpose. Things I’ve never been allowed to have without earning them through pain. Out there in the forest . By the time I step outside, dressed in the training clothes Hannah insisted on picking for me, the air is crisp and cool. The forest surrounding the pack lands hums faintly, alive in a way that feels different now that I’m part of it. Eric is already at the training grounds. He stands with his arms crossed, broad shoulders squared, green eyes sharp as he watches two warriors spar. Anton is beside him, relaxed but attentive, correcting one of the younger wolves with quiet authority. “You ready?” Anton asks when he notices me. I hesit

Cora's POV I try not to think about him. That’s the problem, I’m failing. It starts small. The way my chest tightens when I hear his voice before I see him. The way my attention drifts, uninvited, whenever he enters a room. I tell myself it’s gratitude. Respect. Safety. But gratitude doesn’t make my pulse jump. Eric Williams is careful with me. Not distant, just measured. Like he’s aware of every step he takes around me, every word. And somehow that makes it worse. It makes every glance feel intentional. Every quiet moment charged. Hannah notices before I do. She’s sitting across from me at breakfast, swinging her legs under the table, watching me poke at my food without eating much. “You’re doing it again,” she says casually. “Doing what?” She grins. “That thing where you pretend you’re not staring.” I nearly choke. “I’m not staring.” “Mm-hmm.” She leans closer, lowering her voice. “You’ve looked at my brother seven times in the last two minutes.” Heat fl

Cora's POV Happiness doesn’t arrive all at once. It doesn’t crash into you like pain does, loud and merciless. It settles instead, quiet, careful, almost shy. Like it’s afraid you’ll send it away if it makes too much noise. I wake up smiling before I realize I’m doing it. Sunlight spills through the window, pale and warm, brushing against my skin like a promise. The house is quiet, too quiet to belong to a pack, but that’s what makes it feel safe. This isn’t a pack house filled with judgmental eyes or whispered expectations. This is Eric’s home. Hannah’s home. Mine, for now. I stretch beneath the blankets, listening to the faint sounds of movement downstairs. Hannah’s laugh drifts up the stairwell, bright and unrestrained, followed by the clatter of dishes. The scent of coffee curls into the hallway, rich and grounding. I smile before I can stop myself. I never used to smile like this. The thought still startles me sometimes, but it feels truer every day. My mind

Eric's POV The council hall hummed with the low murmur of wolves discussing strategy, but my attention was elsewhere. I couldn’t shake the tension radiating between the Lincoln pack’s Alpha son and Cora. Even from across the room, I could feel it—like a storm barely contained, dangerous and unpredictable. Anton leaned beside me, his eyes following the subtle interactions I was already tracking. “You saw it too,” he murmured. I nodded slowly. “Yes.” “Cain Lincoln,” Anton said, voice low, almost cautious, “he’s clearly… unsettled by her. There’s history there. I saw it when they arrived—the way he looked at her. And he tried to speak to her, but she shut him down.” I frowned, turning to watch the younger Alpha. He carried himself with a mixture of pride and restraint, trying to maintain control, but his gaze kept flicking toward her. My wolf stirred inside me. Protective. Territorial. She hadn’t fully revealed herself, hadn’t told anyone here about her past or the connection to Li