Lahat ng Kabanata ng Sold After Rejection to the Ruthless Lycan King: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Elara POVThe Moon was already high when they called my name.“Elara Moonfall.”The sharp crack of Elder Rowan’s staff against stone split the clearing. The sound echoed once, then died, leaving a silence so complete I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.Cold air slid beneath my skin.The white dress they had given me clung to my body, thin as breath, the fabric damp against my palms where my hands shook. The hem brushed my bare ankles, already numb from standing too long on the frost-kissed ground. The scent of pine smoke and crushed grass filled the clearing, sharp enough to sting my nose.This was supposed to be sacred.This was supposed to be beautiful.All my life, I had been taught one truth above all others:The Moon does not make mistakes.“You’re shaking,” Vera whispered beside me. Her shoulder brushed mine, warm, solid, real. “Breathe. This is your bond night. Your mate is already here.”Her voice was steady, but her fingers tightened painfully around my wrist,

Elara POVThe road to the Lycan Dominion was long. And silent.The chains still circled my wrists and ankles, but no one pulled them anymore. I walked on my own, surrounded by Lycan guards who moved like living shadows, quiet, alert, impossibly controlled. Their boots struck the earth in perfect rhythm. Their gazes never lingered.They spoke only when necessary. Most of the time, they did not speak at all.I was not treated like a guest. But I was not dragged like a prisoner either.I existed in a narrow space between acknowledged, watched, measured.The land changed the farther we traveled. The trees grew thicker, darker, their branches knotting together overhead as if the forest itself were closing ranks. The air pressed heavier against my lungs, sharp and cold, carrying a scent that made my skin prickle, iron, frost, and something wild beneath it.Even the wind seemed careful here. It slid through the leaves in hushed currents, as though afraid to draw attention.I had never been t

Elara POVThe Lycan court was nothing like Silverclaw.There were no banners draped across the walls. No musicians to soften the air. No ritual meant to disguise power as tradition.This hall did not pretend.It was carved entirely from black stone, vast and towering, its pillars shaped like claws frozen mid-strike. The ceiling arched so high it disappeared into shadow, as if the mountain itself refused to reveal its limits. Fire burned in deep iron bowls along the walls, but the heat never reached the center. The air there stayed cold, sharp enough to sting the lungs with every breath.This was not a place of welcome.This was where wolves were measured.Where weakness was noticed. And remembered.The moment I stepped inside, conversation slowed. Then stopped.It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. It was the sudden stillness that came when predators focused at once. I felt it instantly, the shift in the air, the alignment of attention snapping toward me. Dozens of gazes turned sharp an

Elara POVThe Blood Moon was not supposed to rise yet. That was the first law everyone knew.By dawn, the Lycan stronghold no longer felt like stone and steel. It felt like a living creature holding its breath. The walls seemed closer. The corridors quieter. Guards doubled along the battlements, their footsteps sharp and controlled. Patrols moved faster, tighter, as if speed alone could keep disaster away.Doors that were usually open stood firmly shut.No one lingered.No one laughed.Even the air felt wrong,thick, tight, heavy with something unnamed.Something had shifted.I felt it long before the horns sounded.Heat moved beneath my skin in slow, deliberate waves. It was not pain. Not hunger. Not fear. It settled deep in my chest, curled through my bones, and stayed there.Waiting.As if my body recognized a call my mind could not yet hear.Maelis refused to leave my side.“You will not walk alone today,” she said firmly as she tied a thin silver ribbon around my wrist. Her finger

Elara POVLyra Stormborn had always believed that control was quieter than force.Force drew attention. Control lived in shadows.That belief had kept her alive.She stood near the edge of the Lycan court as the final echoes of Kael’s dismissal faded through the vast hall. Wolves moved around her. Alphas retreating in tight groups, whispers trailing behind them like smoke, but Lyra remained still, her posture perfect, her hands folded neatly at her waist.To anyone watching, she was composed.Graceful.Unbothered.Inside, her heart was racing.Her palms were damp. Her breath came a little too fast. She pressed her fingers together gently, hiding the tremor through practiced control.Because Elara Moonfall was still standing.Not kneeling.Not crying.Not broken.Marked.Lyra’s gaze shifted without permission, drawn, helplessly, to Elara’s wrist. The symbol there was unmistakable. Dark lines etched with authority. Clean. Precise. Alive with meaning. Royal.Not a mating bond.Not Moon-b