Book Rejected And Forsaken นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I hear the footsteps stop, and it goes quiet. "No, I'm not saying that. I would never reject my mate. I trust the moon goddess. I just have never heard of somebody not being able to reject a mate bond. I'm already feeling drawn to her. I'm fighting to keep Percy from taking control and tearing that door down to mark her on the spot."

"And what about the voice inside my head? The one that controls me in my sleep?" "All I can tell you now is that that voice will stop once you get to that cabin." “You’re telling me,” I whisper, my throat dry, “that this, this thing that’s been inside me, pulling at me, speaking through me, it’ll just… stop?” Amara tilts her head slightly, her dark eyes steady. “Not ‘just.’ The cabin isn’t a cure, Kaya. It’s a threshold. Cross it, and what has been bound to you will begin to reveal itself. The voice will lose its hold. But once you step through, you cannot go back the same. Nothing in that forest gives without taking.”

The touch burns, not with fire, but with recognition. “I want the thoughts you bite down. The moans you smother with pillows. The way your breath hitches when you arch in bed alone.” Lucifer stands slowly, gaze never leaving her face. She doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. Her skin still hums where he touched her. “I’ll go,” he says, and it’s a lie dressed as mercy. Because he’s not retreating. He’s seeding himself. Into her bones. Into the empty space where her faith used to live.

"You said the same thing back then, and look how that turned out." When Nicky was first starting out, I lived with her in a cramped basement and ate cheap takeout. She was moved by my dedication and promised to buy me everything I wanted once she succeeded. However, those promises faded and were replaced by contempt. I would rather see her dead than offer her a fresh start. "Jensen, I was wrong. Ryan clouded my judgment. Please forgive me. I can't live without you," she pleaded regretfully. I looked at her without an ounce of sympathy and replied, "I don't love you anymore, Nicky. I've never felt more at peace since I left you. If you can't go on, then go ahead and end it. Maybe you'll meet

“Eloise Anthony, I Ainsley Williams the Alpha of the Litha Night Walker pack, reject you as my mate. From this moment onward I sever the moon goddess fate and bond between us. You are hereby denied the opportunity of being my mate.” Immediately, a wrenching pain shot through my entire body. My wolf screamed in my head, “We need Ainsley. Go beg him, and put aside your pride. Damn you, Eloise, go beg him for forgiveness!” In my mind, there was a deafening buzzing, sometimes feeling like an impending explosion, other times like drowning. I looked at the man who had rejected me. He remained impassive, as if I were facing unwanted trash.

-Josephine- I have spent my entire life studying the threads that bind our kind together. I know the ancient scripts of the Moors by heart. I know the weight of a bloodline and the absolute finality of a Rejection. A bond, once severed, is supposed to be a dead nerve. It is the one mercy the Moon Goddess allows us—to walk away from a mistake and start over. Or so I told myself while I stood in the shadow of the corridor, the cold stone of the pack house pressing against my back.

I hid it in the only place I knew it wouldn't be found, at least not by my kind. His shoulders slumped slightly as he looked back down at the book in his lap, his palm now stroking the cover, his thumb brushing up and down the spine. A flicker of pain darkened his features. 'I lied about it feeling like losing a limb,' he said, bitterness creeping into his voice and twisting it into something harder, colder. 'It was like cutting my fucking heart out of my chest and leaving it there to bleed out on a dusty shelf for centuries. I might not have been carrying the burden of it anymore, but I carried the pain of losing it every single fucking day. It was the only thing I had left of them. My last

I reached for the first scroll. It beat in my hand. Warm. Breathing. The cloth slid away, revealing parchment veined with ashroot and powdered moonstone. The ink twisted like lightning under skin. And then it spoke—not aloud, but to my bones, to my blood, to my very being: Born not of fang nor howl, but of ash and sorrow… Rejected by wolf, chosen by fire… She will walk alone until the flame kisses her name. Then the sky will split… And the gods will fall.

He burned it, or at least he thought he had. But the next day, against all reason and logic, the book was there again. It reappeared, untouched, beneath that very same tree. That’s when his desperation turned to madness. He didn’t just want the book gone—he wanted the tree that birthed it destroyed. He summoned flames so fierce they licked the heavens, engulfing the tree in a sea of fire. And yet, when the smoke cleared, the tree stood unharmed. Its bark was blackened but unbroken; the only change inflicted on the book and tree was that they were pure black since then.