After My Mate Rejected Me, I Claimed a Rogue King

The drive back to the Tucker Pack territory felt like moving through a dream. Or perhaps a nightmare I was finally waking up from. Sitting in the passenger seat of Max’s sleek black SUV, I stared out the window as the familiar trees of my childhood blurred past. Beside me, the Lycan King drove in silence, his large hand resting casually on the steering wheel, radiating a calm, terrifying power.

“Are you ready?” Max asked, his voice low and grounding.

I looked down at the file folder resting on my lap. Inside were documents his Beta, Elena, had unearthed in less than an hour—financial records, bank transfers, emails. Proof that the rot in my pack went straight to the core. Straight to my father.

“I have to be,” I whispered, clutching the folder until my knuckles turned white. “I left my mother’s locket in my room. It’s the only thing I have left of her. I’m not leaving it behind.”

Max nodded once. “Then we go get it.”

We pulled up to the Beta’s residence, a large, modern house separated from the main pack house by a dense grove of pines. My heart hammered against my ribs. I had lived here my entire life, but walking up the driveway now, flanked by the most powerful wolf in existence, I felt like an invader.

My father was waiting on the porch. Beta Spencer stood with his arms crossed, his face a mask of cold fury. Two pack warriors stood behind him, looking nervous as Max stepped out of the car.

“You have some nerve returning here,” my father spat, ignoring Max entirely to glare at me. “After the shame you brought on this family? You are exiled, Olivia. You have no home here.”

“I’m here for my things,” I said, my voice shaking slightly before I steeled myself. “And I’m here to invoke the Rite of Blood.”

My father laughed, a harsh, barking sound. “The Rite of Blood? You read too many fairy tales, girl. You have no wolf. You have no standing.”

“She has me,” Max said. The air temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. He didn’t shout, didn’t even raise his voice, but the sheer weight of his presence made the warriors behind my father take a step back. “And under ancient law, a child may challenge a parent’s rank if that parent has betrayed their blood obligations. Neglect. Endangerment. Corruption.”

My father’s face went pale, then red. “I have done nothing but serve this pack!”

“Is that so?” I stepped forward, opening the folder. “Then explain the transfers to the Shell Company in the Cayman Islands, Dad. Explain why the border patrol budget was slashed by forty percent last month—the same month three rogue attacks happened near the nursery.”

I threw the papers at his feet. They scattered across the porch like autumn leaves.

“You’ve been stealing from the pack to pay off gambling debts,” I accused, my voice gaining strength. “You weakened our borders. You put everyone at risk. Including me.”

“You ungrateful little wretch!” My father roared. His composure snapped. He lunged off the porch, his hand raised to strike me across the face. I flinched, instinctively squeezing my eyes shut, waiting for the blow I knew too well.

It never came.

There was a sickening *crunch* of bone.

I opened my eyes. Max had caught my father’s wrist in mid-air. He hadn’t just stopped the blow; his grip was crushing my father’s forearm. My father was on his knees, gasping in pain, his face twisted in agony.

“Touch her again,” Max whispered, leaning down so his face was inches from my father’s, “and you will lose the hand.”

He released him with a shove. My father cradled his broken arm, whimpering, all his bravado gone. The warriors didn’t move to help him. They were staring at the scattered papers, at the proof of their Beta’s betrayal.

“Get your things, Olivia,” Max said, straightening his suit jacket. “We’re leaving.”

I hurried inside, my hands trembling as I grabbed my mother’s silver locket from my nightstand and shoved a few clothes into a bag. I felt a strange mixture of grief and liberation. The house didn’t feel like home anymore. It was just a building full of bad memories.

When I walked back out, Max was waiting by the car. But we weren’t alone.

Nolan’s truck skidded to a halt at the end of the driveway. He jumped out, looking frantic, his hair disheveled. Dakota wasn’t with him, but her poison was clearly doing its work.

“Olivia!” Nolan shouted, running toward us. He stopped short when Max turned his golden gaze on him, but he held his ground. “Olivia, you have to get away from him.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, clutching my bag.

“Dakota told me everything,” Nolan panted, his eyes wide and desperate. “He’s using mind control on you. That’s why you claimed him. That’s why you’re acting crazy. You’re wolfless, Liv—you’re vulnerable to dark magic. He’s a witch, or something worse.”

I stared at him. “A witch? Nolan, listen to yourself. He is the Lycan King.”

“He’s dangerous!” Nolan insisted, taking a step toward me, his hand reaching out. “Please, Liv. I know I… I know I rejected you. But I can’t let you be destroyed by him. Come with me. We’ll put you in the safe house until we figure this out.”

I looked at his hand—the hand of the man who had humiliated me in front of everyone just hours ago. Then I looked at Max, who stood silent and stoic, letting me fight my own battle but ready to kill for me if I asked.

“You rejected me, Nolan,” I said, my voice cold and hard. “You broke the bond. You don’t get to protect me anymore. You don’t get to have an opinion on my life.”

“But the bond…” Nolan touched his chest, looking confused. “I still feel it. It’s faint, but… it’s not gone. It’s telling me you’re in danger.”

“That’s not the bond,” I said, opening the car door. “That’s your guilt. And I don’t want it.”

I got into the car and slammed the door. Max slid into the driver’s seat, the engine purring to life. As we drove away, I watched in the side mirror as Nolan stood alone in the driveway, shrinking smaller and smaller until he disappeared, leaving me with the King who had broken my father’s bones to save me.