The Rejected Mate (Elaine and Michael) novel Chapter 142

Eight Years Later

Eight years can change a kingdom.

Eight years can rebuild a heart.

The Goddess had been generous to Crescent Moon—more generous than Elaine ever dared to pray for in the years when she still bled in silence. The forests that once echoed with the dangers of wandering rogues now hummed with life and laughter. Silver pines arched like cathedral columns above their territory, sunlight pouring through the branches as though the moon and sun had made a treaty over this land.

The alliance with their neighboring packs held strong. Threats came and went like distant storms—brief flashes of danger before the skies returned to blue. When rogues crossed the border, they did not last. Darius’ warriors moved like shadows, their strikes precise and unwavering. Crescent Moon had become a sanctuary, built on the foundations of discipline, compassion, and the unwavering leadership of its Alpha and Luna.

And Elaine—who once felt shattered, trembling beneath the unbearable weight of unspoken pain—now stood resolutely beside the man who had shown her that love could be a choice, not merely a fate bestowed upon her.

Their blessings were abundant.

They led a thriving pack.

They earned the respect of their allies.

But nothing could rival the joy brought by the two small souls nestled under their roof.

Nathan—their firstborn, the heir, a boy whose eyes sparkled with the promise of dawn before the world had fully awakened.

And Stella—their radiant sunrise, their tempest, her laughter wrapped in golden curls and an indomitable spirit.

Stella was a whirlwind, a force of nature that had taken them by surprise, yet they had fallen hopelessly in love with her. She was petite, with golden locks that glimmered like sunlight, and a fearless heart that bent the household to her will as easily as she bent her father’s. If she desired something—anything at all—and Darius crossed his arms with a firm “no,” she would simply turn, her eyes growing wide and shimmering with innocence, and take her brother Nathan’s hand.

Together, they would present a united front before Darius.

It was always the same—her tiny hand clasping his larger one, Nathan standing tall and straight, like a loyal guard sworn to protect his princess.

“Alpha Daddy,” she would plead softly, her voice a melody of innocence, “please?”

And Darius—the fierce terror of rogues, the wolf whose name alone made enemies hesitate—would let out a resigned sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, feigning indifference…

…only to fold like a house of cards.

Elaine had warned him time and again.

“When she’s older, she won’t be asking for dolls. She’ll be asking for boys. You’re giving her all the ammunition she needs.”

Darius would always respond with a soft chuckle, the weight of a promise shadowing his tone.

“They’ll have to go through me first.”

The way he uttered those words—deadly serious yet laced with gentle amusement—always made Elaine’s heart swell with a mix of pride and contentment. Darius would go to great lengths to protect their daughter. For their son. For their family.

Yet, one matter weighed heavily on their minds.

Nathan’s wolf.

At eleven, he was still too young to be hearing the voice of his wolf, too young to feel that ancient presence stirring within him. Typically, wolves awakened around the age of fifteen, communicating only in fragments until their first shift at sixteen.

But Nathan’s wolf had called out to him weeks ago—clear, sharp, unmistakable. A voice woven from instinct and memory. Darius had witnessed it during their training sessions, noticing how Nathan’s eyes would glaze over for a fleeting moment, as if another presence was listening through him.

That evening, Darius stood in the fading light, watching his son with a silent admiration that ached in his chest.

“His wolf is strong,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Stronger than mine was at his age. Strong enough to rival me.”

Elaine felt a surge of pride intertwined with a thread of fear.

Of course, he was powerful.

He was born from pain, nurtured in love, guided by two wolves who had risen from the ashes of their past. His blood carried the legacy of two alpha lines—one by birth, the other by bond.

Thus, Darius intensified Nathan’s training. Not out of ambition, but out of a fierce desire to protect. A wolf that awakens early must learn quickly. Strength devoid of guidance can become a perilous weapon. The Alpha within Darius understood this better than anyone.

However, power was not the only reason they had summoned Nathan to the office.

Some truths cannot be delayed.

They had anticipated this day for years—the moment when they would reveal to him the events that transpired before his birth. Who his biological father was. Why Elaine had left Silverblade with a broken heart and a soul in tatters.

And their greatest fear lingered in the shadows:

That Nathan’s love for Silverblade would shatter.

That his bond with Leo—his best friend, his brother in every sense except blood—would twist into resentment when he uncovered the truth.

Elaine and Darius sat in the Alpha’s office, the atmosphere thick with tension, only broken by the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. The room was infused with the earthy scents of cedar and ink, mingling with the lingering essence of Darius’ authority—a warm, heavy presence like storm clouds poised to unleash their fury.

They had instructed everyone else to keep their distance.

This truth belonged solely to the three of them.

A soft knock broke the silence.

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