All Chapters of Rejected by my cursed alpha mate: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

71 Chapters

Made it clear

I take a step, then another, each heavier than the last. It’s as if the night itself clings to me, urging me to stop, but I refuse.“Stop.” His voice follows, closer now, commanding. I ignore it.Another step, and suddenly, my hand is seized—firm, unyielding. A sharp breath escapes me as I’m pulled back, my body turning before I can resist. In the next instant, my back meets the coarse bark of a tree. The world stills, not from the impact, but from him.He stands before me, impossibly close, his presence swallowing the space whole. One arm braces beside my head, caging me in, while the other settles near my waist—an unspoken boundary I can’t cross. I’m enclosed.For a fleeting, bitter moment, it feels achingly familiar. Like every space I’ve ever tried to exist in—no room, no escape. My hands press against his chest, solid and unmoving. He towers over me, warmth radiating from him in quiet waves that clash with the cool night air. His breathing is hard, controlled, but only just.And

Out of order

She belonged in my arms.That is what it felt like.Not a thought. Not a decision. Not even something I arrived at.A certainty.Immediate. Unwelcome. Absolute.And entirely wrong.I should not have been there.I knew that.Every instinct I had honed as an Alpha—every boundary I had drawn, every measure of control I had perfected—stood against this moment.And yet—I had followed her.I had been in the middle of drills when I felt it. A shift. Subtle, but enough to fracture my focus. No one else noticed. No one ever did.But I did. I went towards it. I saw her then—at the edge of the grounds, standing beneath the open sky, her face tilted toward the moon at the banks of the waters. But what tugged me was the moisture on her cheeks. She was crying. Something in my chest tightened.Sharp. Unfamiliar. Irritating. The five Ws swirled around my head. I turned away.Forced myself to.This was not my concern.She was not—I took a step.Stopped.Another.And then I realised—I wasn’t le

Dark stone

In a far far land where the palace did not sleep. The land held stories it could not forget. The people hold scars they are not able to throw away. Dark stone rose like a silent sentinel against the night, its vast structure swallowing light rather than reflecting it. Corridors stretched endlessly, draped in shadows that seemed to breathe, flickering only where rows of candles fought a losing battle against the consuming dark. The air itself felt heavier within those walls—thick, unmoving, as though time had slowed to accommodate something far more ancient than the structure that housed it.At the far end of the palace, beyond arched hallways and carved obsidian pillars, a sprawling veranda opened into the night.Moonlight spilled in.Silver.Cold.Uninvited.He stood there.Tall. Still. Commanding.A long dark cape draped over his shoulders, shifting faintly with the wind that dared to reach him. His frame was rigid, yet effortless—like a blade that had no need to prove its sharpnes

What’s brewing quarterback?

The bleachers of the pack grounds thrummed with restless energy—shouts cutting through the air, the dull thud of bodies colliding, whistles slicing across the field in sharp bursts. Dust rose in soft clouds under the relentless motion of players, and at the centre of it all stood Jared.Effortless.Commanding.As quarterback, he moved with a precision that bordered on instinct—calling plays, pivoting, throwing with a clean, practiced force that drew attention whether one intended to watch or not.Up in the bleachers, however, Liora and Tessa were far more invested in a different kind of spectacle.“And then?” Tessa leaned forward, eyes wide, utterly absorbed. “Wait—wait—so let me summarise this before you conveniently downplay it.”Liora sighed, though the faint curve at her lips betrayed her.“You’re not summarising anything,” she muttered.“Oh, I absolutely am,” Tessa shot back, raising a finger as though delivering a lecture. “He kissed you—”Liora closed her eyes briefly.“—and th

Something brewing

Author’s POV:The bleachers of the Pack Grounds thrummed with restless energy—shouts cutting through the air, the dull thud of bodies colliding, whistles slicing across the field in sharp bursts. Dust rose in soft clouds under the relentless motion of players, and at the centre of it all stood Jared.Effortless.Commanding.As quarterback, he moved with a precision that bordered on instinct—calling plays, pivoting, throwing with a clean, practised force that drew attention whether one intended to watch or not.Up in the bleachers, however, Liora and Tessa were far more invested in a different kind of spectacle.“And then?” Tessa leaned forward, eyes wide, utterly absorbed. “Wait—wait—so let me summarise this before you conveniently downplay it.”Liora sighed, though the faint curve at her lips betrayed her.“You’re not summarising anything,” she muttered.“Oh, I absolutely am,” Tessa shot back, raising a finger as though delivering a lecture. “He kissed you—”Liora closed her eyes bri

Time will tell

Author’s POV:The headquarters of Blackwood did not merely exist—it dominated.It rose high into the skyline of the Crescent Night pack like a declaration, its glass façade catching the afternoon sun and bending it into something sharper, something deliberate. Every line of its architecture was intentional—clean, powerful, unapologetically modern, yet rooted in a quiet authority that did not beg for admiration.It *expected* it.And it received it.The moment the car slowed to a halt at the entrance, Liora fell silent.Her eyes lifted.And for a second—she forgot to breathe.People moved in and out of the building with purpose—tailored suits, structured silhouettes, heels striking marble with precision. There was an unspoken uniform of excellence here: crisp lines, muted confidence, and the occasional bold red lipstick that seemed less like a cosmetic choice and more like a statement.No one lingered.No one hesitated.Everyone belonged.Except—Liora, who sat in the passenger seat,

Up here Ms Hale

Liora’s POV:The elevator ride felt longer than it should have.Or maybe it was just me.The soft hum of its ascent seemed louder in the confined space, echoing against my already restless thoughts. I kept my eyes fixed on the glowing panel as it climbed—6… 7… 8…9.A soft chime broke through.The doors slid open.And I stepped out.For a moment—I forgot why I was here.The lobby on the ninth floor was breathtaking in a way that felt quieter, more refined than the grandeur below. Marble stretched endlessly beneath my feet, polished to perfection, reflecting warm golden lights that hung like carefully placed constellations. Everything was deliberate. Elegant. Controlled.It didn’t just look expensive.It felt important.I instinctively straightened my posture.Right. Professional survival tactic.Blend in. Breathe. Don’t stare like you’ve never seen a building before.I walked toward the desk, steadying my voice before speaking.“Hi,” I said politely. “I’m Liora Hale. I was asked to c

Move on

I looked up——and forgot how to think.He did not look like the man I had seen two nights ago.No.He looked Like a devil incarnate.Dangerously worse.He sat behind the desk like it had been designed for him alone—tailored steel grey suit fitting him with ruthless precision, the fabric tracing the breadth of his shoulders, the clean lines of his frame. One leg rested over the other, effortless, controlled, while his left elbow leaned against the desk as though the world itself was something he entertained, not answered to.His hair—different.Styled back, neater, sharper.It revealed more of his face.Which, quite frankly, should have been illegal.His skin was unreal—clear, almost sculpted, the kind one saw on models in glossy campaigns. But that wasn’t what held me captive.It was his eyes.Silver.Clear.Unblinking.And yet—Held a shield, enough for him to see past you but never let you get to him. My throat went dry. This did weird things to me! How on earth does this man loo

Understood?

My brain stalled for a second too long.“Fr—” I swallowed, forcing the word out properly this time. “Friend.”The correction came out weaker than I intended.Unconvincing.Even to my own ears.He let out a quiet huff—low, almost amused—but there was nothing light about it.“Friend?” he repeated, the word laced with something dangerously close to disbelief. “That’s bullshit.”And just like that—he stepped away.The space he left behind felt immediate.Noticeable.Like something had been removed too quickly.He walked back toward his desk, hands slipping into his pockets, his posture returning to that same composed authority—as though nothing had just happened.As though he hadn’t just caged me against a wall.As though my heart wasn’t still racing.I let out a breath.A long one.One I hadn’t realised I’d been holding.I straightened instinctively, pulling myself back together—mentally rearranging what little composure I had left.Professional.You are here for a job.Act like it.“It

Not crazy

The moment I stepped into my room, the weight of the day followed me in.Not loudly.Not dramatically.Just… there.Clinging.Lingering.I dropped my bag near the edge of the bed, the soft thud sounding louder than it should have in the quiet. For a second, I just stood there, staring at nothing in particular.Then I sat.Slowly.The mattress dipped beneath me, familiar and soft—comforting in a way the rest of the day had not been.I tilted my neck to the left.A soft crack.Then to the right.Another.“Great,” I muttered under my breath. “Even my bones are stressed.”But it didn’t help.Because my mind—My mind had already gone back.To him.To the way he had looked.The way he had *stood*.The way he had moved toward me like the space between us didn’t belong to me.Like it was his to c

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