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His Secret Reborn Warrior Fated Mate Novel Cover

His Secret Reborn Warrior Fated Mate

She bled on the front lines to win military honors for the Carlisle family, only to return and be ordered to hand every achievement to her adoptive mother's useless daughter, Corinne. Starved for a scrap of affection, she obeyed—and that single surrender stripped her of all leverage. Once powerless, she watched her brilliant brother be framed and executed, her true mother poisoned under the guise of illness, and herself locked in a room set ablaze. As flames consumed her, her adoptive mother's triumphant smile was the last thing she saw. Now she has opened her eyes at twenty, on the very morning they come to take her honors. The drab gray dress waits to humiliate her. She tears it to shreds and reaches for her battle armor instead.
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Chapter 3

Aurora POV:

The next morning, the atmosphere at the breakfast table was colder than the stone walls of the dining hall. Genevieve presided over the meal with a chilling, artificial grace. In a shocking departure from her usual behavior, she personally ladled a serving of hot broth into a bowl and placed it before me.

"Aurora, my dear. I understand that you are a grown woman now, with your own mind." Her voice was like honey laced with poison. "But the honor of the family must always come first."

Corinne, seated opposite me, watched the exchange with ill-concealed jealousy. She knew this was the opening act of a well-rehearsed play.

Genevieve launched into a monologue, her words weaving a tapestry of familial duty and noble sacrifice. She spoke of how crucial it was for Corinne, as the daughter of the main branch, to receive the "Scion of Honor" title. It would elevate the entire Carlisle name, secure powerful alliances, and ensure their future.

"All that is required," she concluded, her eyes locking onto mine, "is for you to write a simple petition to the Alpha King. A humble request, stating your desire to have your military achievements credited to your beloved sister."

Corinne chimed in on cue, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Oh, please, sister. It's for the good of us all. Surely you wouldn't be so selfish as to refuse?"

I didn't respond immediately. I picked up my spoon and took a slow, deliberate sip of the broth. It was lukewarm. I let the silence stretch, forcing them to wait, to watch me. The power dynamic in the room had shifted, and they could feel it, even if they didn't understand why.

When I finally set my spoon down, I looked at them with an expression of wide-eyed innocence.

"A petition?" I asked, my voice carefully modulated to sound confused. "But I've already submitted my after-action reports to the military command. The process for awarding commendations is quite strict. I wasn't aware that personal intervention was possible."

I was using their own system against them. The bureaucracy of the kingdom, which they so often used to crush others, was now my shield.

Genevieve's smile tightened. "You can frame it as a personal wish, Aurora. A testament to your generosity and your love for your sister."

"But that would be a lie, wouldn't it?" I replied, my brow furrowed as if I were genuinely troubled by the ethical dilemma. "I would be deceiving the Alpha King. I am just a soldier, Mother. I wouldn't dare risk committing such a crime."

Corinne shot to her feet, her chair scraping harshly against the floor. Her pretty face was twisted in an ugly sneer. "You're just selfish! You don't care about this family at all!"

Before the argument could escalate further, the butler hurried into the room, his expression a mixture of excitement and awe.

"Matron! An envoy from the royal palace has arrived!"

Instantly, the tension vanished from Genevieve's and Corinne's faces, replaced by triumphant glee. They exchanged a look of pure victory. They thought their back-channel manipulations had worked. They believed the envoy was here to grant their request.

Genevieve gave me a condescending, pitying look, as if to say, See? We don't need your permission. It is already done.

We all proceeded to the grand drawing-room, the same room where I had defied her just the day before. A stern-faced official in the King's livery stood waiting, a rolled parchment scroll in his hand. This was Mr. Finch.

He wasted no time on pleasantries. With a crisp, formal bow, he unfurled the scroll and began to read in a loud, resonant voice that filled the cavernous room.

"By decree of His Majesty, the Alpha King, in recognition of extraordinary valor and strategic brilliance during the Blackwood Campaign..."

He began to list my accomplishments, detailing my command decisions in the Battle of the Whispering Woods with startling accuracy. Corinne's triumphant smile began to waver. My name had been mentioned three times already. Hers, not at all.

Mr. Finch's voice boomed on. "...the King does hereby bestow upon Aurora Carlisle the Medal of the Silver Moon, a purse of five thousand gold coins, and the deed to the estate known as the Feitian Pavilion in the eastern city quarter..."

The list of rewards went on. Each new honor announced was like a physical blow to Genevieve and Corinne. Their faces grew paler and paler, their expressions shifting from confusion to disbelief, and finally, to horrified rage.

When he finished, Mr. Finch rolled the parchment back up and turned to me, executing another sharp bow. "Congratulations, Miss Carlisle."

The silence that followed was deafening. There had been no mention of Corinne. No mention of the "Scion of Honor" title.

Corinne was the first to break. A shrill, childish shriek escaped her lips. "That's impossible! What about my title? Where is the Scion of Honor?"

Mr. Finch's eyebrows shot up in disapproval. He looked down his long nose at her. "The King's decree speaks only of the deeds of Miss Aurora Carlisle. There is no mention of anyone else."

Genevieve's face was a mottled, furious red. The public humiliation was more than she could bear.

I stepped forward, my expression serene, and accepted the heavy, silver medal and the rolled deed from Mr. Finch's outstretched hands. I held them for a moment, feeling their solid weight. The weight of my victory.

Then, I turned. I met Genevieve's blazing, hate-filled eyes. And for the first time since my return, I allowed myself a small, genuine smile.

It was a smile of pure, unadulterated triumph.

She stood there, trembling with fury, utterly speechless in the presence of the King's envoy. She could do nothing but watch as the glory, the wealth, and the honor she had schemed to steal for her daughter were placed, with all the ceremony of the crown, directly into my hands.

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