All Chapters of The Mate He Rejected: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

CULLEN'S POV I stood in the center of the dark, circular room, the dim light from a single wall torch casting long, jagged shadows across the uneven floor. I held the crumpled piece of parchment in my left hand. The dark ink of the assassination ledger was smeared with the blood of the Silver Moon guard who had died carrying it. My thumb traced over the very top line, right over the letters that spelled out my mate’s name.A heavy iron door groaned open behind me."Get up," Maddox’s rough voice barked.I turned around just in time to see Maddox throw a man onto the hard stone floor. The man hit the ground with a loud, wet thud, his hands bound tightly behind his back with thick rope. He wore the gray and silver uniform of the Silver Moon vanguard, but the crest on his chest was torn and covered in dirt.Maddox stepped into the room, locking the iron door behind him. He looked at me and gave a short, rigid nod. "This is Shawn. He was trying to slip out through the eastern gates. He ha

CAOMH'S POV The dim torchlight in the corridor flickered, casting long, jagged shadows across the rough stone walls.I stood completely frozen, staring down at the unrolled parchment in my hands. The dark black ink seemed to blur and shift before my eyes, but the words did not change. The witch-healer had translated the ancient magical runes into clear, simple text.I traced my bleeding thumb over the lines, leaving a dark red smear against the edge of the thick paper.Sample A: Caomh Willard Colson.Sample B: Esme Randell Colson.Paternal Lineage Match: Zero.My breath caught sharply in my throat, a dry, ragged sound that echoed loudly in the empty hall. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying to the Moon Goddess that if I opened them again, the text would be different. I prayed it was a trick. I prayed it was just a nightmare brought on by the stress of the summit.I opened my eyes. The words remained.I looked at the next line, the ink thick and heavy on the page.Sample C: Bronson Adolp

The silver scar on the side of my neck burned with a steady, quiet heat. It was a brand new mark, sealing my soul to the towering Northern Alpha standing right beside me. Through the newly awakened bond, I could feel everything Cullen felt. I felt his fierce pride, his protective instincts, and the dark, simmering hunger he was barely keeping in check as the rival Alphas stared at me."Luna Meghann."The high, sharp voice cut through the polite chatter.I turned my head. Luna Selby Adelle West of the River Pack approached our circle. She wore a bright crimson dress that pushed too high at her chest, her blonde hair curled into tight ringlets. Two other Lunas trailed behind her like eager shadows. Selby had spent the entire week making thinly veiled comments about my southern origins, clearly angry that Cullen had never given her a second glance during the marriage negotiations years ago."Luna Selby," I greeted, my voice smooth and perfectly even."You look lovely tonight," Selby smil

The freezing wind whipped through the eastern courtyard, carrying the sharp bite of frost and the clean scent of dormant pine. I pulled my thick, dark wool shawl tighter around my chest, my boots resting firmly against the shoveled stone pathway. Just ten feet away, kneeling directly in the center of a frozen snowbank, was Caomh Colson. He did not look like the proud leader of the Silver Moon pack. He looked like a man who had been entirely hollowed out from the inside. His heavy black winter coat hung loosely over his slumped shoulders. His dark hair, usually styled with perfect precision, was tangled and windblown, falling across his pale forehead. But it was his face that truly commanded the quiet space. His golden eyes were entirely bloodshot, surrounded by deep, bruised shadows that spoke of a sleepless, torturous night. His skin was sallow, stripped of all its natural warmth. His right hand rested weakly against hi

CAOMH'S  I sat at the head of the long table reserved for the Silver Moon pack, staring down at a plate of roasted sausage and eggs that I had not touched. The smell of the rich, heavy food made my stomach churn. I raised a ceramic cup of black tea to my lips, forcing myself to take a slow sip. The liquid was scalding and bitter, burning the back of my throat, but it helped anchor me to the present. To my left sat Elder Foster. To my right, Elder Hyram. They were eating their breakfast, murmuring quietly to each other about the weather and the upcoming journey back to the southern territories. They looked like completely normal, respectable men. But I knew the truth. I knew that tucked securely in the pockets of their thick robes was the signed decree of transition. They had formally signed my execution order less than twelve hours ago, and now they were sitting beside me, drinking tea as if they hadn't just handed