Page 7 of Claiming His Rejected Mate

I square my shoulders, forcing myself to meet his gaze even as my chest tightens. But then, the crowd stirs, murmurs rippling through them like a sudden breeze.

Kieran steps into the clearing behind me, his presence commanding attention without a single word.

Magnus’ expression shifts, his disdain melting into something else—something that almost looks like pride. His eyes flick between me and Kieran, his brow furrowing slightly as if piecing something together. He must think I have hatched some kind of plan against the Moonfang. If Kieran weren’t my mate, he would have been right. The downfall of the Moonfang has been the center of our strategies for months.

I force myself to keep walking, my head held high even as my thoughts spiral. Magnus doesn’t say a word as I pass him, but I can feel his gaze burning into my back.

Rhyne steps forward to meet me.

“Where were you?” The scowl on his face deepens with the question. I scoff in my head. I’m no longer a wolfless child he can boss around.

“Clearing my head.”

He gives me a long look like he suspects something else but doesn’t push further. “Get ready. The next round’s coming up.”

My wolf is restless, her frustration and desire bleeding into my thoughts. But I shove it all down, focusing on the task at hand.

Whatever this thing between Kieran and me is, it’ll have to wait. For now, I have a fight to finish and a father to prove wrong.

Chapter 3

Kieran

All I can focus on is her. Hazel. My Mate.

She moves like a shadow through the crowd, her steps quick and deliberate, though she doesn’t seem to notice the way her troop members keep glancing her way. They can’t help it—she’s magnetic without even trying. And she has my scent all over her.

My wolf is restless, clawing at the edges of my mind, urging me to close the space between us. The bond is new and raw, but it’s already consuming me. I’ve waited years to find her, and now that I have, every instinct in me screams to claim her. To mark her. To make her mine.

But she’s Nightclaw.

The thought cuts through the haze of the desire I feel for her, grounding me in the stark reality of who she is. Her presence complicates everything. The alliance negotiations are fragile enough without adding this…connection into the mix.

And yet, none of that seems to matter. The idea of her being from Nightclaw, of her wolf tying her allegiance to Magnus Callister as a warrior, and being under the authority of Jag Nightbeam, doesn’t make me hesitate. If anything, it’s perfect. An alliance cemented not just in words, but in the unshakable bond of mates.

I lean forward in my seat, my eyes following her every move. Her troop leader, a wiry wolf with sharp features, claps a hand on her shoulder, saying something that makes her nod.

A growl rumbles low in my chest, quiet enough that no one hears it but me. My wolf surges forward, the primal need to protect and claim rising to the surface.

She’s ours. No one touches her but us.

I grip the arm of my chair, the wood groaning under the force of my hold. The rational part of my mind tells me this reaction is absurd, that I have no right to feel this way, but the bond doesn’t care about logic. It’s wild and consuming, and it’s taking every ounce of self-control I have to stay seated.

“I should go down there,” I mutter to myself, already envisioning the way I’d pull her from the crowd, ignoring every whisper and stare as I brought her to my side.

“Alpha,” Damon’s voice cuts through my thoughts, calm and measured as always.

I glance at him, irritation flickering in my chest. My Beta stands at my side, his expression unreadable, though his tone carries the faintest edge of warning.

“What is it?” I ask, my voice tight.

Damon leans in, his words low and meant only for me. “I’ve received a report about the wolf I saw you with. I made some…inquiries.”

My jaw tightens, and a cold weight settles in my stomach. “What kind of report?”

“Troubling,” he says, his gaze shifting briefly to Hazel before returning to me. “It’s about her connection to Magnus. Our sources believe she’s been spying for him, possibly trying to establish a connection with you to feed him information about our plans.”

“No,” I say immediately, the denial spilling from my lips before I can stop it. My wolf bristles, his fury burning hot in my chest. She wouldn’t. She’s ours. I would have sensed it.

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