All Chapters of Rejected by the Alpha Heir, Mated to His Rival Brother: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Draven's POV I sat in the chair and listened to her speak. She was pacing now, her hands moving as she talked, her voice rising and falling with passion. She was trying to come up with ideas, strategies, ways to get Thorne to spill the location of Marcus's sister. She was so focused, so determined, so utterly consumed by the need to fix this. Like she had been fighting this war for me, and she wasn't going to stop until she won. I watched her lips as she spoke. The way they moved. The way they curved around each word. I had never noticed how soft they looked. How full. How they had felt against mine in that yard, that one moment when everything else had disappeared. I remembered the warmth of her mouth. The taste of her—like honey and something floral, something uniquely her. The way she had fit against me like she had always been meant to be there. Like my arms had been waiting for her. My heart was pounding. My chest was tight. But it wasn't the tightness of fear or anger. It was

Ciara's POVI felt something shift inside me. Disappointment, yes—a small part of me had wanted him to kiss me, wanted him to take me in his arms and show me exactly how much he wanted me. But underneath that disappointment, I felt something else. Something deeper.Respect. He had just shown me more respect than anyone had ever shown me in my entire life."You are the most extraordinary woman I have ever known," he said softly. "You have walked through fire for me. You have faced down wolves for me. You have given me hope when I had none. And I am not worthy of you. Not yet. But I will be. I swear it. I will spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of the gift that is you."I felt tears prick at my eyes. "Draven—""I want to be the man you deserve," he said. "I want to look at you and know that I have earned the right to call you mine. I want to hold you and know that I have proven myself worthy of your heart. And until that day comes, I will wait. I will be patient. I will be fa

Isolde's POV The carriage lurched forward, and I settled into the worn leather seat, the darkness of the interior wrapping around me like a familiar blanket. The only light came from the small lantern mounted on the wall, casting dancing shadows across my face. I watched them flicker and move, my thoughts drifting back to the portrait on my desk. Draven and me. Years ago. Before everything fell apart. I remembered that day clearly. The sun had been warm on my skin, and we had been walking through the gardens, away from the pack house, away from everyone. He had been laughing at something I said—I couldn't remember what—and his arm had been around my waist, pulling me close. He had looked at me like I was the only woman in the world. Like I was the only thing that mattered. I closed my eyes and let myself feel it again. The warmth of his body. The sound of his laugh. The way his fingers had traced patterns on my hip. And then I remembered the way it had all fallen apart. I h

ISOLDE'S POVThe bouncer made his way toward me through the crowd. His face was hard, unreadable, but there was a glint in his eyes—the look of a man who had just been given a generous offer.He stopped in front of me. "The councilman wants you."I raised an eyebrow, letting a hint of disinterest creep into my voice. "Does he now?""He does." The bouncer's voice was flat. "He wants a private dance. VIP room. He's willing to pay handsomely."I let out a soft laugh. "I'm not a whore. I dance. That's all.""I'm not asking you to be anything." The bouncer's eyes flickered with impatience. "Just a private performance. He's an important man. Powerful. He has money to burn, and he's not afraid to spend it. You keep him satisfied, and you'll walk away with more coin than you've seen in a year."I pretended to consider it. I let my gaze drift across the room, as if weighing my options. Inside, I was practically glowing. This was perfect. Everything was going according to plan."And what exactl

Isolde’s POVThe blindfold was still secure around his eyes. His hands remained on my waist, fingers flexing restlessly against the silk of my dress. I could feel every ragged breath he took, the quick rise and fall of his chest against mine. The Eclipse Nectar was already threading through him but not yet strong enough to steal him completely. I needed to keep him focused on the heat between us, on the pleasure, so the drowsiness would creep in unnoticed until it was far too late.I began to move again. Slow, deep circles of my hips, grinding the soaked silk of my underwear along the thick, rigid length of him. He was still so hard it bordered on painful, the heat of him radiating through the strained fabric of his trousers. Every roll of my body dragged a fresh smear of wetness between us—mine and his. I let my head fall back, spine arching so he could feel the long curve of me pressing into his chest. My hands lifted, fingers sliding through my own hair, letting the dark wav