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 31 - チャプター 40

Elvina’s POV My breath came in sharp, uneven hitches all the way back to my room. I leaned my back against the heavy oak door, my palm pressed firmly over my mouth, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs.  My lips were still tingling, a residual, magnetic warmth lingering from Arthur’s touch that no amount of cold air or sheer willpower could wash away. I let him in. The thought terrified me far more than any threat from Felix or the lurking scouts outside the estate gates.  I had sworn to myself that I would never become dependent on another powerful man, that I would keep my heart shielded behind cold, professional walls.  Yet, in a quiet library lit only by firelight, Arthur Thornridge had stripped away every single layer of my armor with a single, reverent kiss. I forced

Elvina’s POVThe heavy oak doors of the Thornridge Estate’s private study swung open, revealing Zach standing in the doorway with a thick, leather-bound summons folder tucked under his arm. His face was drawn tight with tension."Alpha," Zach said, his voice clipped and serious. "The Elders have officially invoked Article 7. An emergency session of the High Pack Council has been called for eight o'clock tonight at the Great Hall. Elder Haddon locked in the petition himself, with signatures from five regional representatives."Sitting across the mahogany desk from Arthur, I felt a familiar, cold weight settle in my chest.Article 7 was a rare, severe measure—a formal council trial invoked when an Alpha’s personal conduct was accused of compromising pack tradition, stability, or moral governance. Arthur’s live public declaration at the trauma center had spread through the territory like wildfire, throwing the traditionalist faction of the council into absolute uproar.Arthur didn't eve

Elvina’s POVThe cafe sat on a quiet side street far away from the center of Ashbourne. It wasn't the kind of place Felix or his wealthy friends would ever visit. The air inside smelled of freshly ground coffee beans and stale pastries, and the low hum of traffic outside drowned out the soft conversations happening around the small wooden tables.I sat in a corner booth near the back, my hands wrapped around a mug of warm chamomile tea. I kept my coat on, pulling the collar up slightly to hide my face. Even though Arthur’s guards were parked two blocks away to give me space, my pulse was fast. Ever since I moved into Arthur’s estate, every small outing felt like a risk.The small bell above the front door chimed.I looked up and saw Agnes step inside. She looked entirely different from the polished, arrogant woman who used to strut through the Gamma division as Felix’s secretary. She wore a heavy black coat, a headscarf tucked low over her forehead, and dark sunglasses despite the

Elvina’s POVThe morning air in the estate courtyard was crisp and biting, carrying the sharp scent of damp soil and crushed pine. I wrapped my cardigan tightly around my shoulders, taking a slow, deep breath to settle the constant, quiet nausea lingering in the back of my throat.My pregnancy had officially passed the four-month mark, and with it came changes I could no longer ignore or easily hide.It wasn't just the subtle rounding of my waist beneath my loose knit sweater, or the way my body felt perpetually warm even in the autumn chill. It was the energy. Over the past two weeks, my dormant wolf felt less like a quiet ghost and more like a restless flame stirring right beneath my ribs.Every time my emotions spiked—whether from a frustrating phone call with my mother or the sheer, overwhelming stress of Felix’s lurking shadow—the lights around me reacted. A wall sconce in the dining hall had shattered two nights ago when I dropped a glass, and the overhead fluorescent panels

Elvina’s POV  The grand ballroom of the Ashbourne Cultural Center gleamed under the light of three massive crystal chandeliers.  Muted classical strings drifted through the air, blending smoothly with the polite hum of conversation and the soft clinking of crystal champagne flutes. Tonight was the annual Thornridge Medical Foundation Gala, a major charity event bringing together the pack’s top surgeons, wealthy donors, and high-ranking council members. Standing in front of the tall vanity mirror in my dressing room earlier that evening, I had almost lost my breath when I unpacked the garment bag Arthur had sent up.  It was a stunning, floor-length sapphire gown. The fabric was a deep, liquid blue that shimmered under the light, featuring a high, modest neckline and long sleeves that gracefully concealed the faint, lingering tingle in my palms.&n