All Chapters of Reject Me, Alpha Tate: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

Nicole's POVThe heat of Tate’s kiss still burned on my lips, my heart hammering like a trapped bird inside my ribs. For years, he had been a ghost haunting my memories, a cruel Alpha who had broken my spirit in the dark halls of the South River pack mansion. But standing on the cold stone steps outside the grand hall, the raw, desperate need in his touch had shaken me to my core.I gently pushed against his chest, stepping back just enough to draw a ragged breath as my cheeks flared hot."Tate," I whispered, glancing nervously around the open courtyard. "People are everywhere. The entire board is inside."Tate’s dark eyes were intense, searching my face as if trying to memorize every line, every curve he had lost for years. He didn't pull away completely; his hand lingered at the small of my back, his thumb rubbing a slow, grounding circle against my wool coat."Let them look," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "I don't care about the board, Nicole. I care about you.""

Tate pov "I was no hero," I said, my voice dropping into a rough, quiet register. The warmth in my eyes darkened with a heavy, familiar weight. "I was a tyrant. I was acting out every cruel lesson Caesar ever beat into me, and I took it out on you because you were the easiest target.""Tate, don't""No, Nicole, let me say it," I interrupted gently, squeezing her fingers. "I need to look at you and say the full truth. I ordered the maids to put that birth control powder in your food every single day. I convinced myself it was about control, that keeping you from bearing an heir was some kind of pack security because of what your father did. But it was just pure, bitter cruelty."Nicole looked down at our joined hands, her shoulders tightening slightly at the memory. "I remember sitting at that kitchen table every morning. I used to force myself to swallow whatever was set down in front of me while everyone called me barren. I thought my own body was failing me.""It wasn't your body—i

Tate's POVThe brass key turned smoothly in the lock of the sub-basement storage cage—a space the Federal Research Institute allocated to visiting Alpha delegations for secure recordkeeping. I hadn't asked Corwin to fetch the box for me. My fingers trailed over the cold gray metal of the archive drawers until they stopped at the file labeled South River Alliance Filings: Inactive.I pulled the heavy paper sleeve from the cabinet, the dust catching in the weak light of the fluorescent tube overhead. My thumb traced the raised ink on the front cover.The DocumentSOUTHERN WEREWOLF ALLIANCE REGISTRY PETITION FOR DECLARATION OF DEATH SUBJECT INFORMATION: Full Legal Name: N. Caesar, née LockePack of Origin: South River PackStatus: Pending Approval — Alliance Central RecordsFiling Authority: Office of the Alpha, South River PackDate of Filing: Three weeks post-search termination DECLARATION: The search in the Northern Forest territory has yielded no viable recovery of the subject

Nicole pov "I registered them as Dr. Nicole Carter’s dependents," I said, stepping closer to the board table. "I paid every credit for their room, board, and nursery care out of my own grant stipends. No institute funds were used to support them. They live here under the exact same residential rules as the children of any other senior researcher."I turned off the projection screen, bringing the bright light down to the soft glow of the room."I hid my identity to protect myself and my children from a pack that had already tried to kill me once through neglect and cruelty," I said, keeping my voice steady even as the words themselves weren't easy to say out loud in a room full of strangers. "I did not conceal my identity to gain research advantage. I concealed it to survive long enough to build something worth protecting. Those are not the same act, and I ask the board not to treat them as though they are."The oak doors opened, and Director Reyes stepped out into the quiet marble ha

Nicole's POV The discharge ceremony happened in the garden on an unremarkable Tuesday afternoon—no board members, no press, no formal proceedings. Just the people who had lived through the last several months together, gathered around a wrought-iron table under the old oak tree Diana had favored during her sessions. Parkville arrived first, his cane thumping rhythmically against the stone path, his attendant keeping three paces back. Mark came next, adjusting the cuffs of his grey jacket. A small bouquet of wildflowers sat awkwardly in his left hand, wrapped in brown butcher paper. He set them on the center of the table with a slight shrug. Diana was the last to walk down the stone steps. Her posture was straight, her shoulders dropped and relaxed—a far cry from the woman who had first sat across from me for a medication round months ago, back when I wore a blonde wig and green contacts while she confessed her deepest regret to a masked attendant. "You look wonderful, Diana," I sai