All Chapters of The Rejected Plus-Size Mate: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Elara's POVThe sound of the blade meeting bone was a sickening, wet thud that vibrated through the floorboards. I didn't look away, though every instinct told me to shield my eyes. Jace’s head rolled a few inches away from his slumped torso, stopping right in the center of the court floor. The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating under the weight of the pack’s collective shock.My gaze drifted from the gore to the dais. Isabella sat there, her fingers curled tightly around the arms of her chair. As the guards moved in to clear the remains, I saw it—a long, slow exhale. Her shoulders dropped, the rigid tension leaving her frame in a way that looked less like grief and more like a massive weight had been lifted.She looked relieved."Did you see that?" I whispered, my voice barely audible as Elias stepped closer to me, his hand resting briefly on my shoulder to steady me."See what, Elara?" he asked, his voice low and cautious."Isabella," I said, nodding toward the Luna. "The

Isabella's POVThe bed was cold. That was the first thing I realized as my eyes snapped open. I reached out, my hand brushing against the silk sheets where Nathan’s body should have been, but there was only a lingering, fading warmth. My heart hammered against my ribs—a frantic, rhythmic thud. He had left me. Again.I sat up, the air in the royal suite feeling suddenly thin. I didn't think; I just moved. I threw on a robe and slipped into the hallway, my bare feet silent on the cold stone. I knew where he’d gone. The pull of that girl was like a sickness in him, a rot I couldn't seem to cut out no matter how hard I tried. I found him at the edge of the glass corridor. He wasn't moving. He stood like a statue, his silhouette sharp against the moonlight. I stayed back, hidden in the shadows of a heavy velvet curtain, my breath catching in my throat. I followed his gaze down to the gardens, and there she was. Elara.She was with Elias. They were close—far too close. But it wasn't them t

Isabella's POVI paced the length of my bedchamber, the silk of my skirts hissing against the stone floor like a warning. My fingers wouldn't stay still; I kept twisting my rings, digging the gold bands into my skin until it stung."Where is she?" I snapped, spinning toward the door. "Juliette! Go to the west wing again. She should have been here ten minutes ago.""I just checked, Luna," the maid whispered, keeping her head bowed. "The halls were empty, but I will go again immediately.""Go!" I hissed.I couldn't breathe properly. Every second that passed was a second Elara spent with Elias, likely whispering poison into his ear or, worse, flaunting that pathetic, soft body of hers to cloud his judgment. I stopped by the vanity, checking my reflection. I looked regal, sharp, every bit the Alpha’s mate I was born to be. Unlike her.A sharp rap at the door made me jump. Juliette hurried back in, breathless. "She is here, Luna. Lady Elara is just turning the corridor.""Finally," I breat

Elara's POVA rhythmic, heavy thudding pounded against the inside of my skull, each beat synchronized with the pulsing light of the morning sun filtering through the heavy drapes. I groaned, the sound catching in my dry throat. My head felt as though it had been split open and crudely stitched back together.I blinked, trying to force the room into focus. The silk canopy above me was familiar—my own chambers—but the presence beside me was not. I shifted my head slightly, wincing at the flare of pain, and saw him. Elias was slumped in the velvet armchair he’d dragged right next to my bedside. His chin was tucked against his chest, his broad shoulders rising and falling with the steady, deep cadence of sleep.He looked exhausted. The sharp, regal lines of his face were softened by slumber, a stray dark lock falling over his forehead. I felt a sudden, sharp ache in my chest that had nothing to do with my headache. Slowly, trembling, I reached out my hand. I let my fingertips graze his ha

Isabella's POVI lifted the porcelain cup to my lips, savoring the floral notes of the tea. It was lukewarm, but the sweetness felt like victory on my tongue. Across from me, the silver teapot sat on the vanity, its polished surface reflecting my satisfied expression."Take it away," I said, gesturing toward the expensive piece.My maid, Martha, hesitated, her hands hovering near the tray. "The set, Mistress? It’s imported filigree. You only used it for the first time last night.""I said dispose of it, Martha," I snapped, my voice sharp enough to make her flinch. "I don’t want to see it again. Smelt it down or throw it in the gorge for all I care. It has served its purpose, and I find the sight of it... cluttered."Last night, that pot had held the key. I leaned back, a low cackle bubbling up from my throat. It started as a titter and grew into a full, resonant laugh that echoed against the stone walls of my chambers."You seem in high spirits, Mistress," Martha murmured, keeping her