All Chapters of Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

TaraMorgana controls everything. My hands, my voice, my smile. And no one knows. They look at me and see Tara, the quiet, observant girl still adjusting to life in the pack. They don’t see the monster inside me, puppeteering my every move.She laughs inside my mind, her amusement like dark silk wrapping around me, suffocating and smooth. You struggle too much. Just accept that you’re the instrument with which I’ll regain my rightful life. Relax and enjoy the show.I want to claw at her, tear her away from me, but all I can do is watch as my body moves without my consent. I greet others, I nod when spoken to, I walk around the pack house. Even Arlo no longer seems to suspect anything is amiss. I hate how well she mimics me. How easily she wears me like a second skin. My only consolation is that I’m still here. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hang on, but for now, I’m still aware. I get my chance in the dead of night. Morgana is complacent, entertained by the thrill of playing

Hilda The candlelight flickers, casting long shadows across the room. Arlo stands near the window, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw clenched. He hasn’t spoken in minutes, but I can feel the storm brewing within him.“I’m not asking for permission to be involved with this hunt anymore,” I say quietly, though the tension in my voice betrays my own frustration. “I’m telling you what I’ve learned. What we’re up against and that our child is in danger. You can’t keep me from fighting back.”He exhales sharply, turning to face me, his golden eyes burning with barely contained anger. “I know you can’t Hilda, I understand your instinct to protect. I fucking know the overwhelming desire to keep the ones I love most out of danger. Are you sure our…daughter,” despite everything I can hear the wonder in his voice, “Is the reason Morgana is after you?”“I don’t know why she wants her, not exactly. But I know it’s not just about revenge. There’s something more.”Arlo runs a hand t

CereliaThe dream doesn’t feel like a dream. It feels like a prophecy. It may be the first one I’ve ever experienced but I can feel the portentousness deep in my bones.I stand in a vast, endless void, watching shadows twist and churn like a living storm. There are whispers, soft, insidious things slithering through the darkness. Then, as if the world itself bends to an unseen force, the shadows part, revealing two figures.One is draped in a cloak darker than the void itself, his features obscured, but his presence suffocating. The other is a woman with a cruel smile and eyes that burn with hunger. Without ever having seen her, I know this is Morgana.Between them is a child. Golden-eyed, radiant with potential, but so very fragile. So heartbreakingly small in the presence of such evil. The figures speak, their voices curling through the air like smoke.“She is the key,” Morgana says, reaching for the child, “A vessel worthy of my rebirth.” The cloaked figure speaks with a voice that

Arlo The scent is faint but unmistakable. Tara was here. Hilda and I found no new clues this morning, but my nose has led me back here again tonight.I crouch low to the ground, inhaling deeply, my wolf raging beneath my skin. The remnants of her scent cling to the ancient temple ruins, barely perceptible, nearly washed away by the damp earth and overgrowth.She didn’t linger here for long, but she was here recently. Recently enough that my instincts scream at me to keep searching.Clenching my fists, I push myself upright, exhaling slowly through my nose. I can’t afford to lose control. I need to keep my wits about me in spite of the fact that every step I take feels like I'm chasing ghosts, and the weight pressing down on my chest is threatening to crack me open from the inside.She’s getting away. And I can’t let that happen. Moonlight spills through the broken arches of the temple, casting jagged shadows along the cracked stone. I hate this place.The magic that lingers here is t

MorganaThe night air is thick with fear, and I drink it in like the finest wine. The chaos I’ve sown wraps around me, intoxicating, exhilarating. They run in circles, desperate to find Tara, too blind to see that she was never truly missing. Not in the way they think.I stretch my stolen limbs, rolling my shoulders, feeling the resistance of this weakening shell. Tara fought me harder yesterday than she ever has before, clawing at the edges of my control like a wild animal.It cost me. I had to dig deep, unravelling her from within, silencing her screams until they were nothing more than whispers lost in the abyss. But the strain is evident. Our body is deteriorating much faster than anticipated. Who would have guessed timid Tara would be so troublesome?I need a new vessel. A stronger one. Of course, my perfect vessel is even now being grown in Hilda’s distended belly, but I was supposed to have time. Tara’s body should have lasted long enough to raise the infant to a child before I