All Chapters of From His Rejection to His Uncle’s Obsession : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

I kept my chin held high as the heavy double doors of the grand conservatory swung open, but beneath the dark silk of my dress, my heart was hammering a frantic, erratic rhythm against my ribs.The post-wedding luncheon was a mandatory display of pack protocol, a gilded arena where the high houses of the West District gathered to dissect the aftermath of the cathedral. The air in the massive glass pavilion was suffocatingly thick, saturated with the scents of expensive catering, heavy perfumes, and a volatile undercurrent of raw, predatory anxiety.The moment I stepped across the threshold, the room died.The soft clink of crystal and the low hum of aristocratic conversation evaporated into an absolute, ringing silence. Hundreds of pairs of eyes shifted in a slow, synchronized wave toward my throat. I had deliberately chosen an emerald-green gown with a low-cut back and a collar that left the left side of my neck completely exposed to the chilly conservatory air.There was no hiding

Veda’s POV I smoothed the front of my silk trousers, staring at the leather luggage stacked neatly by the door of the East Suite.Three days had passed since the cathedral doors slammed shut behind us, and the violent, thrumming ache of the mating mark on my neck had finally settled into a deep, heavy pulse. It was a physical tether, a live wire beneath my skin that hummed with Rowan's rain-and-ash presence even when he was miles away in the war room. I touched the jagged, raised edges of the crescent puncture, my nipples instantly hardening against the lace of my camisole as a phantom wave of his heat flooded my senses."The flight to the private island in the Aegean is cleared for twenty-two hundred hours," Lila said, stepping into the room with a stack of folded wool sweaters. Her voice was quiet, still carrying that careful, deferential edge that had settled over the entire estate since the wedding night. "The Enforcer teams have already secured the tarmac. Rowan's personal phal

Rowan’s POV The low, persistent vibration of the train tracking through the mountain pass had became the background rhythm to my impending undoing.I sat in the dim light of the master parlor, a glass of untouched bourbon held loosely between my fingers. The dark amber liquid reflected the green and red indicator lights of the tactical console on my desk, but my focus wasn't on the security feeds. It was on the velvet armchair across the cabin.Veda had fallen asleep there an hour ago, curled into a small, defensive ball beneath a heavy wool blanket. But her posture had changed. For two weeks, she had slept like a soldier in a trench—spine rigid, fists clenched, her scent laced with the sharp, acidic sting of hyper-vigilance. Tonight, the lines of her shoulders were soft. Her breathing was a slow, deep sigh that expanded her chest against the silk of her top, and her small, pale hand lay open on the cushion, completely relaxed.She was slowly letting go of the armor. She was letting

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel around you anymore.”The words left my throat as a frayed, breathless whisper, dissolving into the dark, quiet space of the master suite.Rowan didn't move. He remained kneeling between my thighs, his large, calloused hands resting heavily on my knees, their searing heat burning right through the thin silk of my slip. The flickering amber flame of the candle cast deep, predatory shadows across the rugged topography of his bare chest, highlighting the silver scars that cross-hatched his skin like a map of a brutal life. His slate-grey eyes were blown out, the irises swirling with a slow, hypnotic silver storm that pinned me to the edge of the mattress."You're supposed to feel alive, Veda," he rumbled, his deep voice carrying a low, gravelly frequency that vibrated straight through my skin and into the raw, throbbing pulse of the mating mark on my neck. "Everything else is noise.""That’s a lie, Rowan, and you fucking know it," I breathed, my ch

Veda’s POV The sapphire ring felt like a drop of liquid midnight on my finger, heavy and impossibly bright against my skin.I sat at the edge of the infinity pool, dipping my bare feet into the crystal water while the warm Aegean wind tangled the loose strands of my hair. The island sun was sinking low, bleeding a violent, bruised violet across the horizon that perfectly matched the healing crest on my neck. Every time the breeze shifted, it carried the dark, intoxicating musk of rain and ash toward me from the main villa.I was falling, and the terrifying part was how much I was starting to love the descent.It wasn't just the physical hunger anymore. The raw, unbridled consumption of our nights together had mutated into something infinitely more dangerous, an emotional dependency that made my chest ache whenever he left the room. When he had slid that ring onto my finger, looking down at me with those cold, slate-grey eyes that usually only calculated body counts, something insi