Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Mate He Rejected: Kabanata 131 - Kabanata 140

CULLEN'S POV  "I saw the files," Alpha Nathan Ora Sommer said through the secure line, his voice a low, crackling rumble over the static. "My entire council saw them, Cullen. The drone footage from the canyon is clear enough, but the forged medical records? The bribery? It is a complete disgrace." "Bronson Riordan is a traitor," I stated, leaning back in my thick leather chair. I stared at the ceiling of my private office, listening to the winter wind howling against the thick glass of the windows. "He bought the southern elders, faked a royal heir, and slaughtered his own guards to steal the territory. He has no legitimate claim." "He has nothing," Nathan agreed firmly. "I just got off the secure channels with the Eastern Ridge and the River Pack. We are in full agreement. We are officially denouncing Bronson’s leadership. My borders are completely closed to him, and if he tries to push his mercenaries north,

CAOMH'S POV  I walked slowly down the long, brightly lit corridor of the west wing, my boots making no sound against the thick carpet. Ahead of me, Bronson Riordan was stumbling backward, dragging a screaming, terrified five-year-old girl by her fragile arm. "Stay back, Colson!" Bronson yelled, his voice cracking with a manic, unhinged pitch. He held the jagged silver knife directly against Esme’s pale neck. A thin, angry red burn mark was already forming where the toxic metal touched her skin. "I will cut her! I swear to the Goddess, I will lay her throat open right here!" I didn't stop. I took another slow, steady step forward. My golden eyes were completely locked onto Esme’s face. Tears streamed rapidly down her flushed, chubby cheeks. Her dark curls were tangled, her small bare feet sliding helplessly across the rug as the man she called her uncle dragged her like a sack of garb

CAOMH'S POV  The freezing wind whipped across the grand balcony, tearing through the thin gray wool of my sweater. I remained on the frost-covered stone long after the dark silhouette of Bronson Riordan vanished into the northern mountain pass. The deep, hot trench of the bullet graze across my left shoulder burned with a fierce, blinding intensity. The heavy kick Bronson had delivered to my jaw throbbed with a steady rhythm, filling my mouth with the constant, bitter taste of my own blood. I slowly pushed myself up from the freezing pavers. My knees cracked in protest. I turned my back on the jagged peaks of the rogue mountains and looked at the shattered glass doors leading inside the pack house. The Silver Moon estate was tearing itself apart. With Bronson gone and the mercenary guards completely overrun, the riot in the courtyard had spilled directly

MEGHANN'S POV  "Put him in a holding cell," Cullen commanded, his deep voice cutting cleanly through the frantic noise of the command center. He did not even look at Shawn. "Strip Colson of any hidden blades and lock the heavy iron door. He can sit in the cold until the sun comes up." Shawn nodded sharply, turning on his heel to carry out the order. Cullen stepped toward me. I was gripping the edge of the brushed steel table, my chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths. The image of little Esme, crying and shivering with a toxic silver blade pressed against her fragile throat, looped endlessly in my mind. The sheer terror in the child's bright blue eyes felt like a heavy stone sitting in the bottom of my stomach. We were about to launch a massive, bloody campaign into the frozen northern wastes, and the stress was pulling my focus apart. Cullen reached out, wrapping his large, warm han

CULLEN'S POV The frozen ground of the northern wastes felt like jagged glass beneath my massive paws.I pushed forward through the blinding white storm, leading the vanguard of the Arden army. In my shifted form, I was a towering beast of pitch-black fur and heavy muscle, built to survive the harshest winters on the continent. But this environment was actively trying to kill us. The bitter wind howled down the narrow mountain pass, carrying sharp shards of ice that tore at our eyes and stung our exposed snouts. The snow was incredibly deep, reaching past my chest, forcing every single wolf in the front line to burn massive amounts of energy just to carve a path forward.We were completely surrounded by towering, dark pine trees and sheer cliffs of jagged gray rock. The air smelled of frozen earth, dry pine needles, and the faint, bitter scent of sulfur lingering from the explosives Bronson had triggered hours ago.I paused, raising my large head to test the wind.“Alpha Vanguard, hol