Lahat ng Kabanata ng Rejecting My Three Alpha Mates: Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

ALPHA GAVIN The shack isn’t much. If anything, it looks like it should have collapsed years ago. Wood worn pale by the sun, corners softened by salt and time, the kind of place people forget exists until they accidentally stumble into it. Which makes it perfect. Because right now, I don’t want anything polished or controlled or intentional. I just want somewhere quiet enough that I don’t have to pretend I’m fine. The door creaks softly behind us when I push it closed, and for a second, neither of us moves. The air inside is warm, still carrying traces of heat from the early sun, and faintly smells like dried wood and sea air. It’s simple. Small. Too small, maybe. Because suddenly she feels closer. Too close to ignore. I let go of her hand, but only barely. My fingers don’t really leave hers. They just shift, like I’m not quite ready to lose t

ALPHA HARLEY The pain doesn’t come in waves anymore. It stays. Constant. Crushing. Relentless in a way that makes it impossible to separate where it starts and where it ends. It feels like my body is giving up piece by piece, like whatever’s been holding me together since we escaped is finally tearing under pressure it was never meant to carry this long. Voices move around me, Lance, others, but they blur together, distorted and distant, like I’m already slipping somewhere I won’t come back from. I don’t fight it. Not at first. Because I’ve known this feeling before. Not like this, not this deep, not this final, but close enough to recognize what it means when your body starts losing the argument. My breath comes shallow, uneven, every inhale dragging through my chest like something is resisting it from the inside. And through all of it… There’s only one thought t

The hall feels too quiet for what it holds. Not peaceful. Not calm. Just… heavy. Like the air itself is waiting. I stand just behind them, my fingers curled tightly together in front of me as I try to steady my breathing, but it doesn’t quite work. Every inhale feels shallow, every exhale unfinished, like my body hasn’t decided whether this is relief or something worse. Because I don’t know how this ends. That’s the part no one says out loud. Not Lance. Not Frederik. Not even the boys. We all know what Salvatore and Gustavo did. We saw it. Lived through it. Survived it. But knowing something is wrong doesn’t mean the world punishes it the way it should. Power has a way of protecting itself. Connections. Influence. Legacy. All the things those men built their lives on. And now Now everything comes down to whether that matters

Graduation day begins quietly, but nothing about it feels small. The sky is still washed in pale gold when I step outside, the air cool against my skin, carrying that soft stillness that exists only in the space before everything changes. For a moment, I let myself stand there, barefoot on the edge of something that feels both like an ending and a beginning, my chest tightening with everything this day holds. We made it. After everything, the pain, the loss, the fear, the moments I thought I would lose them… I am still here. They are still here. And somehow… we are whole. The low rumble of an engine breaks through the quiet, grounding me. I don’t need to look to know who it is, but I do anyway, my lips curving slightly as Harley’s truck pulls up in front of me like it always has. Familiar. Steady. Unshakable. He leans across the seat, pushing the passenger door open without a word,

“Lia, no!” “I can climb it!” “You’re going to fall!” “I won’t!” “You said that last time!” “I didn’t fall that time!” “You literally cried–” “I DID NOT!” “YOU DID!” “Kids.” My voice doesn’t need to be loud. It never does. Three heads snap toward me instantly. And for a moment, there is silence. Suspicious silence. Because standing at the base of the old oak tree, one I specifically told them not to climb, are my three children. All very guilty. All very unapologetic. And all… very much their fathers’ children. “Explain,” I say, folding my arms. A beat. Then… “She started it.” Two fingers immediately point toward the smallest one in the group. Of course they do. I look at her. At the tiny, golden-haired menace standing with her hands on her hips, chin tilted up like she owns the entire Pack lands, and honestly, at this point, she probably does. Aurelia Moretti-Dane-Wilder. Five years old. And already ruling over two future Alpha