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Alpha’s Rejected Mate Returns as Queen

“I, Benson Walton, reject you, Selma Payne, from being my future Luna and mate. “If you’re sensible, you’ll find a quiet place to die on your own, instead of tarnishing our people’s glory. “You’re just an ugly toad. Stay in the mud quietly, and don’t burden our pack.” On Benson’s nineteenth birthday, he found out that we were destined mates. But I didn’t expect that he would rather endure great pain than accept me. Every word he said smashed directly into my heart, and the pain made me tremble uncontrollably. I learned I wasn’t my parents’ biological child when I was sixteen. Although they thought of me as an angel that a stork had given them, it didn’t change the fact that I was a weak, little human. I was just a soft egg who would fall over with a poke, a loser who couldn’t even see the road without help from the moonlight. My existence brought shame to my parents, and to my pack! Perhaps I should have died in the woods from the start. With that thought in mind, I decided to return them a pure and unblemished pack tonight. So, I jumped off a cliff and thought I would die. I never imagined I would be saved, and my true identity turned out to be the Lycan King’s only daughter who had been lost eighteen years ago. I was also heir to the throne! That surprised me a lot. I was actually a werewolf? But… Why was I so weak? Was this all just a mistake? To become a qualified heir, I concealed my identity and received training. However, could that frivolous instructor who was in charge of training me really help me awaken my wolf, or was he simply taking advantage of me? As I grew stronger and became a public figure, others attacked and plotted against me many times. Did they have anything to do with those who kidnapped me all those years ago? I have to catch them! I’ll protect my family, and my lover!

Mountain Springs · Integral
Sin suficientes valoraciones
819 Chs

Interrogation and Pity

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

Carolyn's POV:

The hot tea steamed up, causing tears in my father's eyes.

"Why don't you come to see her?" His teardrops seemed a catalyst, pushing me back into that cold, indifferent outsider.

I asked too harshly, and it might hurt him. I knew I shouldn't do this or question my father. But I couldn't feel any pity and found it inexplicable even to myself. I had to get to the bottom of it.

My father looked at me pleadingly as if to say, "Don't ask." But I didn't want to back down, and I didn't want to change the topic as if nothing had happened.

It was as if I had become a different person, possessed by the spirit of the Adele upstairs or the pure white witch who died decades ago. Stubbornly, I asked, "Why did you abandon her? Why did you ignore her? Why did you leave her here and pretend it wasn't the absurd extension of the tragedy you left behind in your youth?"