The Rejected daughter chosen by the Alpha (Maya and Atila) novel Chapter 32

Chapter 32

– ATILA

I woke slowly, not opening my eyes right away.

The first sense to come alive wasn’t sight.

It was scent.

Hers.

* 55 volts)

Warm. Sweet. Too familiar to ignore. The soft trace of roses had soaked into the sheets-and into my chest. She was curled against me, her face tucked into my torso, our bodies fitted together in a way that was dangerously comfortable.

I stayed still.

The slightest movement could wake her-and for the first time in a long while, I decided the world could wait.

Carefully. I slid my fingers along her back, following the gentle curve of her spine in a slow, almost absent-minded caress. I epeated the motion again and again. Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time didn’t seem to exist anymore.

Eventually, she stirred. A soft sigh. A subtle shift. Then her lashes fluttered.

leaned in, my voice low and close.

Morning, sleepyhead.”

she startled slightly, like she’d forgotten where she was. Her eyes drifted around the room before settling on me, still halfway between sleep and awareness.

Huh? How long was I out?”

Long enough to make up for yesterday.” I studied her face. “You okay? Anything sore?”

Color rushed to her cheeks. She bit her lower lip, memories clearly catching up with her.

I’m fine,” she said, then hesitated. “You’re not… reading my thoughts right now, are you?”

blinked once before answering.

Not really. They just… happen.”

she hid her face against my chest, let out a nervous laugh, then looked back up at me.

So that means I’ll never be able to lie to you.”

She laughed again. I couldn’t help joining her,

‘Does that really bother you that much?”

‘Honestly?” She nodded. “A lot.”

‘I can try to block it. Or at least get better at controlling it.”

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6:13 pm P WMM

Chapter 32

“Thank you.”

115 Vouchers

She smiled shyly, worrying her lip-and that was all it took. Any trace of restraint vanished. I lifted her chin with two fingers, drawing her in, and kissed her in a slow, lingering brush of lips.

I had just lowered my mouth to the line of her neck when three firm knocks echoed through the door.

“Atila? Are you in there?”

My mother’s voice.

I cursed under my breath.

“Shit… that’s my mother.”

Maya’s eyes widened as she jumped back, sitting upright on the bed.

“Your mother?”

“Yeah.” I took a breath. “Don’t worry. Get dressed slowly. I’ll ask her to wait in the living room.”

I raised my voice just enough to carry.

“I’m coming, Mom! Please wait in the living room.”

“All right, sweetheart,” she replied-warm, lightly intrusive in that way she’d perfected over the years. “Don’t take too long. I made coffee. And… I brought gifts.”

When her footsteps faded, I turned back to Maya. She was already searching the floor.

“My dress… I left it somewhere around here.”

“Wait.” I caught her hand before she bent down. “I’ve got shirts.”

I went to the closet, grabbed a clean white one, and handed it to her. I watched as she slipped it on. The fabric draped perfectly-loose enough to look casual, fitted enough to leave nothing to the imagination.

I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and held my hand out to her.

“Come on.”

She took a deep breath before lacing her fingers through mine..

“Wouldn’t it be better if I went back to my room and changed into something more appropriate?” she asked quietly. “I don’t want your mother to get the wrong impression of me.”

I stopped, leaned in, and pressed a calm, reassuring kiss to her lips.

“Don’t worry,” I said softly, certain. “I’m sure my mother will be happy to meet you. And we don’t need to hide. I’ve been on my own for a long time.”

She nodded, still a little nervous, but she didn’t let go of my hand.

We left the bedroom together and started down toward the first floor.

I felt the shift in the air the moment we reached the last step.

2/4

6:13 pm

Chapter 32

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65 vousbere

My mother stood in the living room near a side table, pretending to organize something that didn’t need organizing. When she saw us, her automatic smile appeared-then faltered halfway.

“Atila, my son…”

She stopped. Her gaze slid to my side and did what it always did-an unapologetic, head-to-toe assessment. An old habit- never subtle. Maya stiffened instantly, her fingers tightening around mine.

My mother tilted her head, curiosity sharpening.

“And who is this young woman?”

I gave Maya’s hand a gentle squeeze-a silent reassurance-and answered without hesitation.

“This is Maya, Mom. The Melroses’ eldest daughter.”

Maya took a breath, gathered what little courage she had left, and offered a polite smile.

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