All Chapters of The Mate He Rejected: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

CAOMH'S POV  The walk from the nursery back to our private chambers felt like dragging my body through a freezing swamp. My boots hit the thick carpet of the corridor in a slow, heavy rhythm, each step rattling the shattered pieces of my reality. The faint scent of damp earth and burnt ash still coated the back of my throat, completely ruining the taste of my own breath. Esme was not mine. I stared at Dreda’s back as she walked a few paces ahead of me. The pale pink silk of her robe caught the flickering light of the wall torches, flowing smoothly with every step she took. Just an hour ago, I would have looked at her and seen my Luna, the mother of my child, the fragile woman I swore to protect. Now, looking at the slope of her shoulders and the sway of her hips, all I saw was a parasite. She reached the heavy timber door of our suite and pushed it open. She didn't wai

I sat on the edge of the velvet sofa in our private suite, staring blankly at the dying embers in the stone hearth. The air inside the room was warm, but it felt incredibly heavy. For days, I had smiled at neutral elders, navigated the toxic whispers in the grand dining halls, and wore the untouchable mask of the Northern Luna. Every single interaction at this summit was a trap. Every polite greeting hid a threat. Every shared cup of tea was an opportunity for rival packs to probe for weakness. I rested my elbows on my knees and buried my face in my hands. My skin felt tight. The muscles in my neck and shoulders burned with a deep, persistent ache. I was exhausted. The sheer mental toll of pretending, of keeping my spine straight while surrounded by the very people who had watched my life fall apart five years ago, was finally dragging me under. Heavy, quiet footsteps moved across the thick rug. I di

The rough, frozen bark of the pine tree bit into my spine through the thick wool of my cloak. The quiet vulnerability we just shared on the ridge vanished in a single, sudden heartbeat. Cullen’s massive frame trapped me entirely, blocking out the silver light of the moon. He didn't just lean against me; he caged me, planting his hands flat against the tree trunk on either side of my head. The raw heat radiating from his chest was intense, seeping through my clothes and sinking straight into my freezing skin. I looked up into his face. His silver-gray eyes were entirely pitch-black now, the pupils blown wide as his feral instincts took complete control. "Cullen," I breathed, the word hanging in a small white cloud between us. "You smell like the snow," he rumbled, his voice dropping into a rough, jagged pitch that made the blood roar in my ears. "And you smell like mine." He

CAOMH'S POV  The underground training rings of the neutral compound smelled like pine sawdust, cold stone, and stale sweat. I sat on a wooden bench near the edge of the sparring mats, staring down at my hands. I pulled a long strip of white athletic tape tight across my knuckles, the rough fabric biting into my skin. I wrapped the left hand, then the right, repeating the motion until my joints were heavily bound. I didn't care if it cut off the circulation. I needed the tight, pinching pressure to keep me anchored to the present moment. My golden eyes were burning, entirely bloodshot. I hadn't slept a single minute since I walked out of the nursery. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Esme’s face. I saw the sharp arch of her brow, and I smelled the heavy, foul scent of damp earth and ash. My best friend. My brother. The man who had stood beside me during my father’s funeral.&n

The morning light filtering through the tall glass windows of the neutral compound was blindingly bright, reflecting off the fresh snow from last night’s storm. I sat in a high-backed velvet chair near the hearth of our private suite, holding a delicate porcelain teacup between my hands. The heat from the ceramic seeped into my palms, but my skin still carried the phantom burn of Cullen’s touch. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back in the freezing, shadowed treeline. I could feel the rough bark of the pine pressing into my spine. I could feel his massive hands gripping my waist, his frantic, possessive heartbeat hammering against my chest. We had crossed a line in the forest that could never be uncrossed. The careful, political boundaries of our arrangement were gone, melted away by a primal heat I had never experienced before. I had given him everything in the dark, and for the first time in five years, I truly believed I was