My Rejected And Broken Queen Novels & Stories

I chased bigger numbers, riskier locations, darker kinks. I let them film me. I let them collar me permanently. I became the Queen in every sense — cold, dominant, insatiable, and deeply, deeply broken. Sophia became my constant companion in the madness, pushing me further, whispering that Liam never truly understood me. But late at night, when the men had left and the apartment was silent again, I would curl up in Liam’s old shirt and cry until I had no tears left. The Queen had won the battle. But she was slowly killing the woman who still loved him with her entire shattered heart. To be continued…

Her voice cracked open the room like thunder. “What does it mean, Damon?” she asked. “What the hell is a royal reject?” The words struck like a blade, but I didn’t flinch. “It means,” I said, voice steady despite the storm behind my ribs, “that you were never meant to be broken.” She blinked.

Those were the thoughts running in my mind. “See, she’s speechless,” Britney growled in a menacing tone, gritting her teeth. “This is a disgrace, Blaze,” she muttered, placing her hand on Blaze's shoulder. “You need to break the bond with her now,” she demanded, and my stomach dropped. “I'm wolf-less; if he rejects me, I will die,” I begged desperately as Britney pressed him. “And please, no,” I pleaded as tears fell freely down my face. “And for this bastard child, I say we kill it,” she declared.

"She's a cursed witch who brings nothing but misfortune! Look what she's done! She used black magic to bewitch the King and ruin us all!" The temple fell silent. Everyone stared at her in shock. In wolf law, slandering the Queen was a death sentence. "Are you insane?" her mate tried to pull her back. But she had completely lost her mind. "She's not worthy! A discarded bitch, what right does she have to stand there? What right does she have to be our Queen?" Her voice grew more shrill. "She will destroy the entire wolf race! She's a curse! A disaster!" I watched her performance quietly.

I threw my glances around the hall, the mockery, the hurt, the pain piercing through my heart with each sentence that was thrown at me. My mom shook her head at me when I threw a glance at her because she knew what I intended on doing. "How can a low-life who is powerless come in here just to claim the position of the princess? Aside from the eyes that look like the queen and the features from the king, what else does she have that would make us believe she is indeed the lost princess of Arizona kingdom?" "Silence…" my father growled, banging his fist on the table in front of him. "You have to give us an answer, my king because we wouldn't be fooled"

Easton’s arm at that moment wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me close to him, before he turned to his mother’s warriors and said to them, “Your future King, has found his Queen.” The whispers of me being a succubus all came to a halt, as cheers now echoed through the dead lands from his mother’s warriors, but Easton’s announcement of me being his Queen to his people was unnerving, because I hadn’t agreed to it. If anything, I had told him I wasn’t this Queen that his prophets spoke of.

The Queen’s expression shifts once more. Not anger. Not disbelief. Something quieter. Heavier. Acceptance. The kind that does not forgive. Slowly, she turns away from me. “I will tell her,” she says softly. The words feel like something breaking. Inside her. Inside me. I nod once. “See that it is done today.” I turn before she can answer, walking toward the doors. There is one last thing. “Send for a scribe,” I add without looking back. She does not respond.

Something inside me cracked. “Please,” I whispered, barely audible. “Don’t—” His jaw tightened. “I, Isaak Nightingale of the Moonbane Pack, reject you, Sierra Woodsworth, as my mate and Luna.” My eyes watered. A small whimper tore from my throat as the bond snapped. I fell forward, clutching my heart. The pain wasn’t physical, it was soul-deep, ripping something sacred from me. The light between us shattered into fragments of silver that scattered across the stones and faded.

QUEENETH’S POV “Reject me,” I whispered, voice trembling, my fingers twisted together in front of me. “Please, Alpha… just reject me.” He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. His jaw tightened, veins standing out on his neck. “Queeneth,” he said, his voice low, “you don’t know what you’re asking for.” “I do,” I said, though my throat burned. “You have Success. You have your pack. You don’t need me. Please.”

I let out a bitter laugh, the tears that I have been holding back, finally sliding down my cheeks. Cassiel looks at me, actually looks at me. At my bruised cheek, the tears running down them, to my clenched fists down to my worn out sandals. He opens his mouth and I know it’s hurtful words that will come out. “Melody is…” I beat him to it. “I, Elaris Noctair, reject Cassiel Ashmere as my Mate.”