All Chapters of THE REJECTED BETA : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Noah’s POVThe walk from the elevator to my father’s study felt like a slow march toward the gallows.The hospital had been a disaster. The image of Astance’s hand around my throat and worse, the look of utter, hollowed-out indifference in Marie’s eyes played on a loop in my mind like a jagged film strip. I could still feel the phantom heat of the laser sights that had been trained on my chest. I had been outplayed, outmanned, and stripped of my dignity in a hallway that smelled of bleach and failure.I pushed open the heavy mahogany doors of the study. The room was dark, save for the orange embers glowing in the fireplace and the single lamp on the desk. My father sat there, silhouetted against the shadows, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He didn't look up when I entered. He didn't have to. The air in the room was already thick with the scent of his disappointment, a sour, heavy ozone that made the hair on my arms stand up."I trust the hospital visit was productive," he said,

Marie’s POVThe morning sun didn’t rise over the Blackwood Estate; it invaded. It spilt through the gaps in the heavy forest-green curtains of my "shrine," mocking the fact that I had actually slept. I had collapsed into the silk sheets out of sheer neurological exhaustion, dreaming of rising water and cold, golden eyes.When I finally pushed myself out of bed, the room felt even more like a museum than it had the night before. I felt like an intruder in my own past.I found a robe, thick, cream-colored cashmere that smelled faintly of lavender at the foot of the bed. I wrapped it around me, clutching it tight as if it were armour, and stepped into the hallway. My plan was simple, find Valerie, find a phone that wasn't monitored, and find a way out.The reality of my "sanctuary" hit me before I even reached the stairs.Two maids were polishing the silver in the gallery. As I approached, their rhythmic rubbing stopped. They didn’t bow. They didn't offer the polite, deferential "Good mo

Astance’s POV"Repeat the message," I commanded."The Council Mediator, Alpha. Solara. He's at the eastern gate. He arrived maybe ten minutes ago, walked right out of the forest like he'd been expected. He's asking for an audience regarding the Emergency Recovery claim filed by the Thorne patriarch." Riven swallowed hard. I felt Marie's gaze on me, heavy as stone. I didn't look at her."You will go back to the gate," I said, my voice level, controlled. "You will escort the Mediator to the clan courtroom with full honours. Offer him refreshment. Ensure he wants for nothing while he waits." I paused, letting the weight of the order settle. "And you will not engage him in conversation. Understood?" "Yes, Alpha. Full honors. No conversation." Riven nodded sharply.He turned and disappeared through the doors, leaving Kaelen, Marie, and me in the wreckage of what had been, moments ago, a fragile truce."I'll alert the elders. They'll want to be present." Kaelen moved first, pulling out

Noah’s POVThe silence in my study wasn’t peaceful, it was a vacuum, sucking the air out of my lungs until every breath felt like inhaling shattered glass. I stared at the map on my desk, the borders of Northreach bleeding into the Southern District in shades of aggressive crimson and charcoal.Two days.Forty-eight hours had evaporated into the humid Southern heat, and I was no closer to bringing Marie home than I was to touching the moon. My father’s voice, that low, gravelly vibration that promised ruin echoed in the corners of the room. Seven days, Noah. Seven days to fix your failure, or I will excise you from this lineage like a tumour.He didn’t care about Marie. He cared about the optics. A sharp rap at the door made me flinch, a reaction I hated. I smoothed my features into the mask of an Alpha, though my heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs."Enter," I barked.Raine, one of my most trusted couriers, stepped in. He looked like he’d run the entire distance fro

Astance’s POVThe silence that greeted me in the courtroom was the silence of a tomb, one where the occupants were terrified the lid was about to be hammered shut. As I paced toward the centre of the floor, my shadow stretched long and jagged under the torchlight, a dark reflection of the monster currently clawing at the inside of my ribs.Kaelen was right. My aura was a physical weight, a crushing gravity that made the oxygen in the room feel thin and metallic. I saw Elder Hakan, a man who had seen eighty winters and survived three border wars, clutching the armrests of his chair so tightly that his knuckles were the colour of bone. To my left, Elder Vane was sweating, a thin sheen of terror glistening on his brow.I halted. I forced myself to draw a breath, visualising the fire in my blood receding, tucking it back into the iron cellar of my discipline. I didn't do it for them. I did it because a blinded predator is a dead predator, and I needed to see clearly.The tension in the ro