All Chapters of Beyond Chosen: The Alpha's Fated Mate : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

"Because of our friendship, I will ignore your words—but don't ever call me a slut again." Jane turned to walk away, her voice trembling with a dignity that was hanging by a thread. But Priscilla wasn't finished. She lunged, her manicured nails digging into Jane’s wrist like talons, spinning her back around. "I’m not done talking! Stay away from Kelvin, you bitch!" Her voice rose to a glass-shattering shriek, her face contorting into something unrecognizable. Jane didn't flinch. She smoothed her dress with a chilling nonchalance. "There’s free will in this pack, Priscilla. Kelvin is mateless. If he comes to me again, I’ll let him. He isn’t bound to you. Stop acting like his mate before the Moon Goddess even speaks." "I ha*te you!" Priscilla hissed. The air in the hallway seemed to freeze. Priscilla grabbed a handful of Jane’s hair, yanking her head back with a sickening tug. Jane screamed, clawing at Priscilla’s hands, and the argument dissolved into a raw, physical assault

~Elvira ~ "Is he seriously going to twist it this way? If he framed the question like that, I was cornered. Yes, I had flung her, but violence implied intent. Violence implied I had wanted to hurt her. My mind was still racing—how had I actually done it? How did a girl who spent her life bruised and broken suddenly possess the strength to toss a grown werewolf like a ragdoll? I looked at my hands again, half-expecting them to be glowing. I would have to figure out that mystery later. Right now, I was in a mess of a different kind. “Yes, I flung her, but it—” “So you agree you used violence?” Alpha Gabriel interjected, his voice dropped into a register that made the hair on my arms stand up. He folded his massive arms across his chest, his stance shifting into something deadly and final. “I didn’t mean to do that! I apologized immediately. Right, Aria?” I turned to Aria, my eyes screaming for her to back me up. I needed a witness, a friend, a sliver of truth to hang

~ Elvira ~It was just Gabriel and I in his office; the others, including Kelvin were waiting outside "What are you hiding from me Elvira ?" he asked. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble. "I told you," I rasped, pushing myself up despite the way the room tilted. “I'm not hiding anything from you "I have nowhere to go. I came here to train. I came here to survive." Gabriel stepped closer, his nose flaring with agitation. "Training in Silverblade is a privilege reserved for those who have earned it. It costs more than you possess, Elvira. Our instructors, our tech, our blood-right—it isn't free. You have no credits, no status, and no value to this pack and what is more you hold strength that is mysterious I can't trust you." "I mean no harm Gabriel, as for the warrior training program, let me earn it," I shot back, my chin lifting. "I’ll do anything to train in your pack that's why I'm here." A slow, predatory smile spread across Gabriel’s face, but it di

Gabriel’s voice echoed in my head, cold and distant, reminding me that I was an unwanted rouge. A guest by name, but a stray and trespasser by reality. I was living in the Alpha’s wing, yet I was closer to the dirt on the floor than to the man who occupied the room next to mine. "Elvira, stop! Get back!" Aria’s voice cut through the hum of the washing machines. It was a sharp, terrified sound. I looked up, soap suds dripping from my elbows, to find her standing by the heavy steel door. Her face was the color of chalk, and her hands were shaking so hard she nearly dropped the stack of towels she was holding. "What is it?" I asked, my heart giving a nervous thud against my ribs. "The morning briefing." She scrambled toward me, grabbing my wrist with damp, cold fingers. "They’re coming through the main hall. We have to be out of the way. Now." She pulled me toward a shadowed alcove behind a row of thick stone pillars. We were tucked away, but through the gap in

~Elivira~ The heavy scent of roasted garlic and rosemary hit me as soon as I entered the kitchen. After ten hours of bleach and steam, the smell of real food made my stomach growl loudly, the dinner rush was over, and the massive stainless steel space was quiet, save for the clack-clack-clack sounds of a knife against a wooden board as one of the junior cooks was helping Silas chop vegetables. I stood by the entrance, my damp hair sticking to my neck in an uncomfortable manner. My hands stayed tucked into the pockets of my apron to hide the raw, red skin. “You’re late, but I saved you a plate.” Silas looked up from a pile of carrots, his arms the size of tree trunks and his beard dusted with flour. He gestured toward a small wooden table in the corner where a steaming plate sat under a silver lid. “Thank you, Silas.” “Don’t thank me. My cousins wouldn't let me clear the line until you showed up. They’ve been hovering over that roast like hawks.” Two people sat at the