Rejected By My Mate, Claimed And Pregnant For His Alpha. のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

ELVINA’S POVI heard the heavy iron gates of the Thornridge estate close behind the sedan with a muted, metallic thud, and for the first time in days, the suffocating pressure in my chest loosened,if only by a fraction.I couldn't stay in that private wing another hour without feeling like the walls were closing in to crush me. Between the lingering terror of Iris’s outburst, the sheer weight of Arthur’s unyielding Alpha presence, and the burning mark etched into my left wrist, the sanctuary he offered had begun to feel like a gilded cage. Every time Arthur looked at me, his amber eyes burned with a possessive, ancient intensity that made my pulse erratic. He called it an Awakened Mark. He called us mates. But to me, it felt like an iron chain tethering my heart and soul to a world I didn't understand, to a man whose power could swallow me whole.I needed air. I needed space. Most of all, I needed ground beneath my feet that wasn't owned by a billionaire werewolf or monitored by p

ELVINA’S POVI arrived at the Thornridge’s mansion hours later, in order to complete the formal process of the Contract The signature line on the final page of the executive contract was smooth, bold, and entirely mine.I set the Montblanc pen down on Arthur’s vast, dark mahogany desk, watching the black ink dry against the heavy bond paper. The title sat prominently near the top of the header: *Chief Medical Director – Thornridge Community Trauma & Research Center.*Across the desk, Arthur leaned back in his leather chair. The tailored cut of his charcoal suit jacket accented the broad breadth of his shoulders, but the usual razor-sharp, dominant aura he projected in the boardroom was completely softened as his dark eyes locked onto mine. A slow, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips.“It’s official,” he said, his voice low, rich, and grounding. “The board unanimous, the funding secured, and the signature on paper. The center is officially yours, Elvina.”I reached out

ELVINA’S POVThe quiet hum of the fluorescent lights inside the medical supply warehouse was usually therapeutic for me. It was late afternoon, and I had slipped away from my office at the new trauma center to personally inspect a shipment of high-grade surgical instruments and specialized diagnostic monitors. I preferred handling these acquisitions myself, relying on third-party suppliers without double-checking serial numbers was a quick way to let substandard equipment slip into a high-acuity surgical unit.I moved down the wide, concrete aisle, checking items against a digital clipboard.Suddenly, the sharp, deliberate clink of high heels against the polished concrete floor shattered the quiet space."Well, well. Look who’s pretending to be a regular working woman."I didn't need to turn around to recognize the bitter, overly polished tone. Agnes.I let out a slow, controlled breath, set the digital clipboard onto a nearby stainless-steel supply shelf, and turned to face her.A

ELVINA’S POVThe aftermath of my confrontation with Agnes still lingered in the back of my mind like a foul taste, but the demands of my new position at the trauma center gave me no room to dwell on it. Between overseeing equipment deliveries, organizing night shift rotations, and reviewing high-risk patient intakes, my schedule was relentless.By early Thursday afternoon, I found myself in Exam Room 3 of the pediatric wing.On the stainless-steel examination table sat an eight-year-old boy named Leo, his lower pant leg rolled up to reveal a deep, ragged laceration across his shin. He had taken a nasty fall off a wooden fence near the pack border, tearing the skin open down to the fascia."Is it going to need stitches, Dr. Patrick?" his mother asked nervously from the corner chair, her fingers tightly wrapped around her purse strap."Just a few, Mrs. Gable," I said, putting on a gentle, reassuring smile as I snapped on a pair of sterile nitrile gloves. "We’ll numb the area first, w

Elvina’s POV The wrought-iron gates of the Thornridge Estate parted silently as Arthur’s black SUV glided up the winding, tree-lined driveway.  The sheer scale of the property was staggering, sprawling stone archways, manicured gardens that stretched off into the tree line, and an imposing main manor that looked more like a fortress than a residence. Sitting in the leather passenger seat, I felt a familiar, uncomfortable knot tighten in my stomach. In the back seat, Iris had her face pressed against the tinted window, her small eyes wide with wonder.  "Mommy, is this a castle? Is Arthur a prince?" "No, sweetie," I said softly, reaching back to squeeze her hand. "It’s just a very big house." "A very big house with lots of guards," Iris whispered, pointing toward two tall, stone-faced men in dark tactical suits s