Alpha's Rejected becomes the Lycan's Obsession-Chapter 170: Need my mate back

"Go ahead and kill me, Jorell. I dare you," Lisa spat, her voice a venom-laced challenge that dripped with disdain. Her tone did not waver; her eyes did not flinch. They held his gaze with a terrifying calm, the kind that whispered of secrets and ruin. "Try it," she continued, her voice low and furious, "and see if your entire world does not come crashing down before you even understand what is happening."

Her jaw was clenched tight, each word she uttered slicing through the tension in the room like a sharpened blade. Her breath came out in short, measured bursts, as if each exhale was a warning. She was not bluffing. That much was clear. There was no hint of fear in her face, only the simmering fury of a woman who had held back for far too long.

Jorell’s fingers tightened around her throat. The veins in his forearms bulged as anger rippled through him. Her words had pierced something raw inside him, tearing open a wound he barely had time to nurse. Every instinct screamed at him to end it, to silence her once and for all. But he could not. Not yet. Not until he had secured what he was truly after. If not for that singular goal, he would have rid himself of Lisa a long time ago. She had pushed him too far, too many times, and today was no different.

They stood locked in that moment, predator and prey—but both refusing to give way. Neither one spoke. The silence between them pulsed with hatred, thick and stifling. They were so consumed by their rage that they did not hear the soft click of footsteps against the marble floor. Neither noticed the change in the air until a third voice echoed through the throne room like a crack of thunder.

"Can you two just quit it already?"

The voice was sharp and laced with exhaustion. Stella stood at the threshold, her eyes narrowing at the sight before her. The room’s tension had not surprised her. She had felt it in the air before even setting foot inside, like the dense stillness before a lightning storm. Her expression was unreadable as her gaze swept from Jorell to Lisa, two wolves ready to tear each other apart in the very room meant to command order and power.

She was regal in every sense of the word, adorned in a flowing crimson gown that shimmered with black embellishments that marked her status. The sleeves clung to her arms, and her long skirt swayed gently around her feet as she moved further into the room. She had aged since the time when Tracy had still walked among them—her features more defined, her presence even more commanding than before. Her hair, streaked with elegant silver strands, was pulled back into a tight bun, and every line on her face spoke of experience and quiet endurance.

Jorell released Lisa’s neck the instant he heard Stella’s voice. He turned toward the older woman as though her presence alone was enough to dispel the venom that had thickened the air.

"You two are supposed to be leaders of this great pack," Stella said, her voice slow and biting. "Yet you spend your days locked in personal warfare, right here in the throne room, in full view of those you are meant to guide and protect."

"Do not blame me, Stella. You should blame him," Lisa said quickly, eager to shift responsibility. She took a step back from Jorell and straightened her clothing, lifting her chin with self-righteous indignation. "He does not act like the leader he is supposed to be."

"If he is not acting like a leader, you should not stoop to his level," Stella replied sternly, not missing a beat. Her disapproval was palpable. "You should be the one to act like a true leader."

Then her gaze shifted to Jorell, and it was even colder than before.

"And you," she added, her voice now heavy with disappointment, "should not have sent for me when you knew full well you could solve your problems by fighting your Luna."

"I was not fighting her," Jorell defended himself, his tone calmer now but still carrying the heat from their argument. "I was sitting here, minding my own business, waiting for you when she barged in and started the whole confrontation."

Lisa scoffed and crossed her arms tightly across her chest.

"I started the fight?" she asked, incredulous. "So telling you to grow up and stop blaming everyone and everything around you for your misfortunes is me starting a fight? And asking you to stop fantasizing about the King’s mate is me throwing the first punch?"

Her voice rose slightly, enough to fill the high-ceilinged room and echo off the stone walls. Jorell stared at her, but it was not her tone that caught him—it was her words.

His brows furrowed. His heart skipped a beat.

"How did you know about that?" he asked slowly. There was a flicker of confusion in his voice, and a rising current of unease. He had told no one. He had kept the events of that afternoon locked away, buried behind his silence. So how had Lisa found out that Tracy was with the King?

"How I know about it?" Lisa repeated, her lips curling into a bitter smile. "Does that not tell you something, Jorell? Does it not tell you that while you sit around lamenting and daydreaming, I take time to actually do the work of a leader? I pay attention. I listen. I do research."

She did not wait for a reply. Her voice held a finality that shut the conversation down completely. But now it was Stella’s turn to ask the question that lingered between them.

"The King’s mate?" Stella asked, clearly surprised. Her brows rose, and she turned her full attention to Jorell. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Jorell’s eyes flicked to her, then back to Lisa. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, as though making a decision, he sighed and turned back to Stella fully.

"We need to talk. In private," he said, his tone more subdued now.

He then glanced at Lisa and spoke without emotion. "Leave us."

Lisa did not argue.

"Of course I will leave," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Your presence disgusts me. And besides, there is nothing you want to say in private that I do not already know."

With those final words, she turned and swept out of the throne room, her steps light and brisk, but her energy still thick with fury.

The doors slammed shut behind her.

Stella turned to Jorell and examined him closely. Her sharp eyes missed nothing. She took in his disheveled appearance—his shirt half-untucked, his hair slightly tousled, his eyes rimmed with dark shadows.

"You look a mess, Jorell," she said finally, shaking her head. "What is going on with you? This is not the Alpha I pledged to serve with everything I have."

"Do not bother about my appearance, Stella," Jorell replied, waving her concern away with a tired hand. "That is not why I sent for you."

"It is not just your appearance," she pressed, her voice growing more serious. "It is everything about you. The way you stand. The way you speak. You are unraveling. But fine—let us get to business. What is this I hear about the King’s mate?"

Jorell did not hesitate this time.

"Tracy is back," he said, the name heavy on his tongue.

"Tracy?" Stella asked, the name unfamiliar for a moment. She frowned, then blinked. "Who is Tracy?"

"My original mate," Jorell replied, his voice almost bitter. "The omega."

Understanding dawned slowly on Stella’s face. Her brows furrowed again and she nodded.

"Oh yes, yes—I remember now. I remember telling you that she had been reborn."

"Well, I found her today," Jorell said, pacing a few steps across the throne room, his words hurried now. "And it turns out she is with the King. They say she is mated to him."

He stopped pacing and turned back to Stella.

"But I do not believe it. He must have chosen her just to torment me. We are the reason she is back. You made sure she would be reborn. She was mine before she died. How could she now be the mate of the King?"

His voice cracked slightly, and he looked away, unable to meet Stella’s eyes for a moment, knowing he was the reason for his misfortune.

Stella stood still, quiet for a while as she processed the gravity of what he had said. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and grave.

"This is a very sensitive issue, Jorell. Not one you should be approaching with this kind of mindset."

"That is exactly why I sent for you," he said. "I need my mate back. There is no way I am letting the King have her. She was first mine, and will always be mine."