All Chapters of Rejected Mate: Rise of the Lycan Princess : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Eric POV The call comes just after dawn. I’m already awake when my phone vibrates on the bedside table, the low buzz cutting through the quiet like a warning. My wolf lifts its head immediately, alert, instincts sharpening before my mind fully catches up. Anton’s name flashes across the screen. That alone tells me enough. I step out of bed carefully, pulling on a shirt as I answer. “Talk to me.” His voice is tight. Controlled. The way it always is when things are bad but not yet catastrophic. “Movement on the western tree line,” he says. “Heavy. Coordinated. Scouts pulled back twenty minutes ago. These aren’t strays.” I close my eyes briefly, exhaling through my nose. “How close?” “Close enough that we’re not calling it coincidence anymore. They could hit within hours. Maybe less.” My wolf growls low in my chest. “I’m on my way back,” I say immediately. “Start reinforcing the borders. Rotate patrols........double coverage, no solo runs. I want everyone alert but

Cora's POV For a moment, I thought I’d imagined it. The way the Alpha King’s voice had cut through the night. The way the name had landed in my chest like something alive. Elena. My breath came out uneven, my heart slamming so hard it hurt. The world around me blurred, faces, torches, the iron gates behind us. Everything fading except the pounding in my ears and the restless, panicked movement of my wolf beneath my skin. She wasn’t growling. She was… crying. I took a step back without meaning to, my heel catching on the stone path. Strong hands steadied me instantly. “Cora,” Eric said quietly. His voice was the only thing that felt real. I swallowed hard and forced myself to breathe, but my chest felt too tight, like something had wrapped itself around my ribs and refused to let go. My wolf paced wildly inside me, confused, frantic, like she’d just heard something she was never supposed to remember but couldn’t forget. The Alpha King was still staring at me. Not like an

Cora's POV The sunlight barely pierced the horizon when I woke, my chest tight, pulse racing. My heart thudded erratically, as though it had been running for hours. Sweat clung to my hair, and I couldn’t shake the vivid fragments of the dream. I was small, barely more than a child, running through a sun-dappled garden. The grass brushed against my bare feet, and laughter filled the air, warm, golden, untainted. My father’s strong arms lifted me onto his shoulders, spinning me around. I giggled uncontrollably, my stomach flipping, the wind rushing past my face. His eyes… they were warm and bright, filled with pride and love. My chest tightened at the memory, though I couldn’t place him. Nearby, a woman’s soft voice floated through the air, singing a haunting melody. She had long blonde hair, flowing in the sunlight, and her eyes glimmered with tenderness. Her song wrapped around me like a protective blanket. I tried to remember her face, her features, but all I could feel was th

Cora's POV The first thing I noticed after the fight was how quiet everything felt inside me. Not the good kind of quiet. Not peace. It was the kind that came after screaming for too long, when your throat burns and the world feels far away, muffled, like you’re underwater. Frostbite was still buzzing with movement. Warriors moved through the pack grounds with purpose, blood still staining their clothes, some limping, some laughing too loudly as adrenaline drained from their systems. The scent of iron hung heavy in the air, mixing with pine and smoke and something sharper.....fear, maybe. Or anticipation. But inside me, something had gone still. I sat on the wide stone steps leading up to the main house, my elbows resting on my knees, fingers flexing slowly as I stared at them like they belonged to someone else. There was dried blood beneath my nails. Not all of it was mine. My wolf stirred, pacing in tight circles beneath my skin, restless but contained. She wasn’t hur

Cora's POV At first, I thought I was imagining it. That the fight had rattled me more than I wanted to admit. But as the hours passed, the pattern became impossible to ignore. People were watching me. Not with suspicion. Not with judgment. With… assessment. It made my skin crawl. I tugged my jacket tighter around myself as I crossed the training grounds, the crunch of frost beneath my boots loud in the otherwise quiet morning. Patrols had doubled overnight. Warriors were everywhere, moving with purpose, eyes scanning the treeline constantly. War was coming. That much was obvious. What I didn’t understand was why it felt like I was suddenly part of the strategy. “Stop glaring at everyone like they personally offended you.” Hannah fell into step beside me, bumping my shoulder lightly. She was dressed for training, hair braided back, expression far too amused for the tension coiling in my chest. “I’m not glaring,” I muttered. “You absolutely are. It’s very intimi