روايات وقصص ضمن Book Rejected And Forsaken

He opened it quickly, flipping through page after page until his fingers froze. "There," he said, holding it out. Veyra read aloud. "The Soul Gates. Forbidden magic. Built with blood, fueled by devotion. They do not open to this world. They open to the Beyond. And from them will step the Forgotten Ones, gods made of hunger and bone, cast away before time began." Jon swallowed hard. "It goes on. The strongest of them—Asvaris. The Unmade King. Said to have once ruled both life and death. Banished by the Moon Goddess herself."

How fitting it is for the gates to my prison to open on my birthday. It's almost a cliche; reborn on the day I was born. Except I really didn't fucking care for things like birthdays and symbolisms anymore. I never thought this day would come. I'd tried to appeal my sentence multiple times, about six in the first year. But something kept blocking it. I never even heard back to be told it was rejected, and as the years went by I lost all hope. I had resigned myself to spend the full forty years in prison wasting away, paying for a crime I didn't commit.

"At once, my Lady. It will be done with the utmost discretion." ​After she scurried out of the chambers, I walked over to the tall bookshelf near the fireplace, pulling down a rare, leather-bound volume on royal history and fated matches. I flipped through the ancient parchment pages until I found a heavily guarded passage concerning rejected bonds. ​My eyes scanned the elegant script: ​A rejected fated bond may weaken the physical heart of the wolves, and the mind may choose to move forward with political logic… but destiny possesses a dangerous, stubborn habit of returning to claim its own.

Thousands of abandoned books rested upon the silent sand. Some were half-buried. Others lay open, their pages completely blank. The woman whispered, "These are all unfinished stories..." The First Reader nodded. "Every story abandoned by its Author eventually arrives here." Adrian stepped onto the cold sand. The moment his foot touched the shore... every abandoned book trembled. One by one... their pages began turning. Not by wind. By recognition. A faint whisper rose from every direction. "Author..." "Please..." "Finish us..." Thousands of voices.

I toss my bag on the passenger seat, open the large garage doors, then pull the truck out. It isn’t until after I’m well past Benedict’s pack that I finally feel like I can breathe. Whatever he’s thinking, I can’t be part of it. There is no future for me and Benedict. There is no future for me and anyone. I’m a forsaken woman, a forsaken wolf, punished because of what our mother did to anger the Moon Goddess. I’ve accepted my life. It is who I am and there is nothing I can do about that. But I won’t let Benedict use me, or, if he’s actually considering it, taking me as a mate. He deserves better than that, better than me. ‘Sloane,’ Aisling whines.

The hollow ache of being found, marked, and cast aside. Rejected, not just by a mate—but before the pack. Before the moon. The runt beneath that moon did not yet know that rejection would become the forge in which her future was tempered. She only knew that, for the first time, the world had offered her more than scraps—and then snatched it back, leaving her with nothing but bruises where hope had almost taken root.

All the promises of love and loyalty were just mere words, without any meaning or weight. The weight of broken promises and forsaken vows pressed down on her heart. She had dared to dream that someone might truly understand her, flaws and all, but reality whispered a harsher truth. Past rejections resurfaced, intertwining with the fresh wound of Iden's betrayal, weaving a tapestry of solitude and uncertainty.

“You filthy fraud! You’re nothing to me—nothing! I will never claim you as my mate, not in this life or the next!” My heart shatters, and the mate bond snaps in half, broken by his blatant rejection of me. My soul feels like it is shattering as King Levi looks at me with disdain. “I, King Levi Christiansen, banish you, Phoebe Cross, from the royal pack. Henceforth, you are a rogue and have twenty-four hours to leave my territory before you are hunted and killed,” he declares, his words another knife twisting into my heart. “D-Don’t do this, Levi,” I plead through the pain, praying he will come to his senses and see that I am the mate who helped him through his rut.

Time passed in the blink of an eye. When Finnegan saw that I was being very uncooperative, not caring whether or not I got hurt in the tug of war and refusing to listen to orders, he told the bodyguards to step aside and spoke to me instead, saying, "I heard that you're surviving on stale bread from some bakery near your place." I lowered my head in shame. Although everyone knew that my family was bankrupt and that I, Winter Brooke, had fallen from grace, I still felt deeply ashamed and embarrassed when confronted by Finnegan, my longtime crush.