Rejected Slave To The Alpha

Chapter 39

Chapter 39 Chapter 39. Nelly’s POV.

| stood at the window, breathing in the cool, crisp air. The sun was just beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the landscape. It had been a wonderful few days with Alpha Kex, and | didn’t want it to end. In his company, | had seen a side of him that | had never known existed, and it had been both surprising and exhilarating.

But now, with the setting sun, | knew our time together was coming to an end. | couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness.

The door creaked open, and | turned to see Kex standing there, an apron tied around his waist. He looked at me, then at the bag on the bed.

“You've already packed?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. | nodded, a sheepish grin on my face. “Yes, Alpha,” | said, then corrected myself. “Yes, Kex.”

He rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Just Kex, remember?” he said, a teasing lilt to his voice. | let out a soft laugh, already missing his company.

“| made dinner,” Alpha Kex said, gesturing to the plates on the counter. “Let's cat before you go.” | nodded, and we both sat down at the kitchen counter.

“You are in for a treat,” he said, lifting a serving spoon from the pot. “I am the best chef you'll ever come across.” He said it with such sincerity that | couldn’t help but laugh.

“I'm sure you are, Your Majesty,” | said, smirking. He let out a chuckle, the sound warm and inviting.

He served me spaghetti and sausages, placing the dishes in front of me with a flourish. | took a bite, savoring the flavor and the warmth of the meal.

“Ahem,” | cleared my throat, ready to speak. “What was it like growing up?” | asked, my curiosity piqued.

He raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. “Why do you ask?” he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Well,” | said, feeling slightly embarrassed, “I’m just curious about my friend’s background.”

“Friends?” he repeated, his tone thoughtful. | couldn’t help but notice the

way his

eyes

softened as he looked at me. “Friends,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I like the sound of that.”

| felt a flutter in my stomach, and | smiled back at him, my cheeks warm.

“| grew up alone,” he said, his voice low. “I never knew my mother. She died when | was born.” | felt a wave of sorrow wash over me, and | reached out to touch his arm. “My dad loved my mom so much,” he continued, his eyes far away. “He believed that if | hadn't been born, she wouldn't have died. So he hated me, and | hated myself.”

He gripped the spoon tightly, his knuckles turning white. | took his hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, they softened.

“You don’t have to hate your existence,” | said, my words coming out in a rush. He just shook his head, his expression unreadable.

“How old were you when you fought your first battle?” | asked, curious despite myself. “Fifteen,” he said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

| opened my mouth in shock, and he let out a soft laugh, the sound surprising me.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips.

| couldn't help but return the smile, a flicker of warmth spreading through me.

“I'm just surprised,” | said, still trying to process the information.

“Well, let's just say my dad was trying to eliminate me,” he said, his tone matter—of-fact. “That’s why he sent me to a war.”

| burst out laughing, the absurdity of the situation hitting me. He gave me a stern look, and | bit back my laughter. “You know that’s a lie, right?”

“Who would send a fifteen-year-old wolf to a war?” He asked, his voice incredulous “Someone who didn’t care about their son’s life,” he replied himself, his expression hard. | fell silent, my mind reeling at the thought of such callous parents.

“Did you ever speak to your dad about this?” | asked, unable to contain my curiosity. “No,” he replied, his tone clipped.

“Why not?” | prodded, feeling a need to understand.

“| led the first war at 17,” he said, his eyes distant as he remembered. “And | won. | came 1044 Thu, 22 Feb GG

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back, full of hope that my father would finally see my worth. But guess what he said?”

| leaned forward, my breath caught in my throat. “What?” | asked. : in my chest.

heart pounding

“He said | was a useless leader because many of our wolves had died, even though I had won the battle,” he continued, his voice tight with emotion. “So it was then | decided.” He paused, taking a deep breath.

“What decision?” | asked, unable to look away from his face.

“| left the pack and found this cottage,” he said, his voice quiet. “And | decided that after cach war, | would come straight to this place.”

“Why?” | asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“| didn’t want anyone to determine my worth,” he said, his eyes fixed on the plate. “For cach battle | won, | would celebrate alone.”

| sat back, taking it all in. It was such a lonely existence, and | couldn't help but feel sorry for him. “You've never known love,” | said, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks.

He let out a humorless laugh, the sound jarring in the silent room. “Love is for the weak,” he said, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. “It makes one weak, and | don’t

need love” | couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at his words. He was so alone, and so hardened by his past.

“The food is getting cold,” he said, clearly trying to change the subject. “Let's cat.” | nodded, not wanting to push him further.

1 picked up my fork and took a bite, the taste of the food lost on me as my mind was reeling from our conversation.

| began to fidget with my food, my fork hitting the plate with a metallic clink. He cleared his throat, and | looked up to meet his gaze.

“You don’t like the food?” he asked, a note of concern in his voice.

“No, it’s delicious,” | said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.

He looked at me skeptically, but then nodded, turning his attention back to his food.

| couldn't hold it in any longer. | dropped my fork and blurted out, “Can | ask you a question?” ll

“Sure,” he said, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Why don’t chest.

you believe in love?” | finally managed to ask, my heart pounding in myNôvelDrama.Org copyrighted © content.

He let out a soft chuckle. “Love made my father weak, he said, his voice soft but bitter. “And he took it out on me when my mom died. What's the point of loving someone when you can’t be with them forever?”

“We both know that’s a lie,” | said, my voice shaking.

“Coming from someone who was rejected,” he said, with a smirk plastered on his face.

My breath caught in my throat, his words hitting me like a punch to the gut.

“How dare you!” | exclaimed. | felt my cheeks flush, my indignation rising.

“I'm sorry,” he said, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I let out a huff, my heart still racing, “It’s fine,” | said, but | couldn’t keep the annoyance out of my voice.

| picked up my fork, shoveling the food into my mouth in an attempt to distract myself from the strange feeling in my chest. His next words made me choke, the food lodging in my throat. | looked up, staring at him in disbelief.

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