All Chapters of Rejected by My Mate, Fated to the Lycan King: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

(Hilda)Soren's words echoed in my mind as I hurried back to the pack house, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and anger. His warning reverberated within me, the implications too horrifying to fully grasp. As I approached the grand building, the reality of my situation began to sink in, and panic clawed at my chest.I needed answers, and I needed them now. My thoughts raced as I made my way through the corridors, each step a battle against the rising tide of dread. I had to confront Arlo, to see if there was any truth to Soren’s allegations. If he was involved in something as dark and twisted as Soren claimed, then I needed to know.As I neared Arlo’s study, I heard voices. His voice and another, unfamiliar but dripping with the same sinister undertones. I stopped, pressing myself against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.“She’s proving to be quite the challenge,” Arlo was saying, his tone devoid of the warmth he usually reserved for me. “But it’s only a matter of tim

(Soren)The night was thick with tension over our camp. The fire crackled softly, casting long shadows and flickering light on the determined faces of those gathered around. Cerelia and Damon were there, their expressions mirroring the resolve we all felt, but the weight of uncertainty pressed heavily upon us. We sat in silence, the forest around us whispering its secrets, when a scout arrived, breathless and urgent, handing me a letter. It was from Maelor. “Soren,” the letter began, the handwriting unmistakably his, “I wish I could have delivered this message in person, but the dangers I face have made that impossible. What I’m about to tell you changes everything we thought we knew.” I read the words aloud to the group, my voice steady despite the unease growing in my chest. “It seems King Arlo might not be the mastermind behind the rituals. There are indications that he was being manipulated by someone within the coven.” “What?” Damon interrupted, his voice edged with disbe

(Hilda)That night, the tension between Arlo and me seemed to dissolve into the stillness of the air, yet the turmoil within me only grew stronger. My thoughts twisted and turned, caught between the loyalty I felt for Soren and the undeniable pull I felt toward Arlo. But as the night stretched on, I allowed myself to be enveloped in the warmth of Arlo's presence, feeling my resolve weaken. The forest around us was serene, the stars above shimmering as silent witnesses to our conversation. Arlo's words echoed in my mind, laced with sincerity and a promise of something more. I couldn’t deny the magnetic attraction that drew me closer to him, even as I fought the conflicting emotions raging inside me. Arlo stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "Thank you, Hilda," he murmured, his voice full of relief and sincerity. "I promise you won't regret this." A rush of emotions flooded through me. Hope, fear, and an undeniable attraction that I could no longer ignore. The connection b

(Arlo)I loved her. I loved everything about her. From the moment I found her in the woods, bleeding and whimpering like a fawn, I loved her. The mate bond was nothing compared to the love I felt for her. I needed her. I needed to hear her voice, to feel her touch. Every time I saw her, I felt happier than I’d ever been before. Every time I heard her voice, it was like nothing I’d ever heard. She changed my world with her presence. But I couldn’t get too close to her. I hated that. I hated the lies, the control. I didn’t have a choice. "Arlo," my mother’s voice slithered into my consciousness, her tone dripping with malevolence. "Bring her to me. It is time."I stiffened, my hands involuntarily clenching into fists. "No," I muttered, more to myself than to her. "Not this time."Her laughter echoed in my head, cold and cruel, sending shivers down my spine. "You do not have a choice, my son. You never did. Hilda is essential for the ritual. Bring her to me, or face the consequences."

(Hilda)The morning sun gently woke me from a dreamless sleep. As my eyes fluttered open, they settled on Arlo standing beside the bed. His smile was soft, his eyes radiating a possessive love so deep it seemed to reach into my very soul. “Good morning, love,” he whispered, his voice a soothing melody that made my heart flutter. I returned his smile, a warmth spreading through my chest that had nothing to do with the sunlight. “Good morning, Arlo,” I replied, sitting up slowly. Arlo extended his hand to me. “Come with me,” he said, his voice a soft invitation. We walked together out past the pack to the riverbank. He was quiet as we walked, but his hand gripped mine tightly. When we reached the river he stopped, his face etched with a pain I had never seen before. “Hilda,” Arlo began, his voice low. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago.” “Arlo…” I said, looking up into his eyes. “What is it?” But the sound of rustling leav