The Rejected daughter chosen by the Alpha (Maya and Atila) novel Chapter 65

Chapter 65

MAYA

The trail felt like it would never end.

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Every time I glanced back, Atilla was right there-steady, relentless-like a soldier on a mission, my heavy backpack slung over his shoulders like it weighed nothing.

I stopped so suddenly he almost ran into me, then I spun around.

“How did you know where I was?”

He smiled, slow and smug.

“That’s a secret.”

I narrowed my eyes and punched his arm.

“Ugh. Stop. Tell me.”

Atilla stepped in front of me, hands sliding into his pockets. He let out a sigh like he was actually debating whether to admit something dangerous.

“Okay.” He dragged the word out. “How do I say this?” His gaze flicked over my face. “Earlier today… I was at the farm.”

My eyebrows shot up.

“What were you still doing there?”

His mouth twitched, almost amused.

“I was going to ask you out. Officially.”

I went still.

“Ask me out like… a date?”

“Yeah.” He nodded once. “The plan was to pick a time, come get you, and do something nice.”

I blinked, caught completely off guard.

“Something nice like fries and a Coke?” I smiled, like an idiot. “Like… a normal date?”

He let out a short laugh.

“That’s what people do when they’re falling for each other, isn’t it?” His voice dropped lower, warmer. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you yet, but… since I don’t know when we’ll actually get the

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Chapter 65

chance to do something nice…” His eyes held mine. “I was planning something different.”

My throat tightened.

“Different how?”

He didn’t hesitate.

“Getting you out of Moonville for a bit.” A pause. A look that made my stomach flip. “Taking you to my favorite restaurant in Paris.”

My brain straight-up shut off.

“Wow.” I breathed it out. “I did not see that coming…”

His expression sharpened, like he was watching me for the smallest crack in my

“Why are you making that face?” he asked, studying me. “You don’t like the idea?”

I shook my head fast.

reaction.

“No, I do. It’s just…” I swallowed, suddenly shy. “I’ve never left Northumberland. And Paris sounds…. unreal to me.” I bit my lip, smiling before I could stop it. “I’d love to see it.”

Atilla looked satisfied in a way that was honestly unfair.

Dangerous.

He lifted his hand and brushed the tip of my nose with his finger, smiling like he’d won something.

Then he shoved his hands back into his pockets.

“I like it when you let me spoil you.”

Heat rushed through my entire body.

“Then promise-”

I stopped mid-step, turned back, and lifted my pinky like I was twelve years old and dead serious.

“Promise you’ll forget you told me this… and take me on that date when we get back.”

His gaze dropped to my pinky. Then he mirrored me, hooking his finger with mine.

“I promise.”

And then he took my hand and kissed it-slow, deliberate-never taking his eyes off me.

My stomach flipped so hard I thought I might actually lose my mind.

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I swallowed, because if I stood there one more second… I was going to do something stupid.

I pulled my hand back, trying to act normal even though my face felt like it was on fire.

“We should hurry,” I blurted. “Or we’re literally never going to get there.”

I started walking faster.

And of course he followed.

We walked.

And walked.

And walked.

My legs started to wobble, and I tried not to show it.

But Atilla noticed.

Of course he noticed.

‘You’re getting tired.”

‘I’m not.”

He stepped beside me and shifted my backpack forward like he’d already decided.

‘Yes, you are. Get on my back.”

My cheeks went hot instantly.

‘Atilla… I’m wearing a dress.”

‘So?”

I looked down at my flowy skirt, then back at him—then immediately hated the fact that my brain supplied images I did not ask for.

“You’re going to drop me. You’re already carrying too much.”

His

eyes flicked over me like I was something light. Something easy.

“This is nothing to me.”

I hesitated one more second, then stepped closer and grabbed his shoulders.

He bent slightly.

I climbed up.

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The second my body settled against his back, I sucked in a breath-because the strength in him was ridiculous. He held me like I weighed nothing. Like I belonged there.

He started walking again.

And it was ridiculous how big he was.

Ridiculous how small I felt.

Ridiculous how much I liked it.

But after a while, I noticed his breathing-heavier now. Less controlled.

A sheen of sweat forming at the back of his neck.

Worry tightened my grip on his shirt.

“How much farther?”

He exhaled, tired, almost out of breath.

“At least four kilometers.”

I nearly cried.

“What? That’s a lot!”

My voice came out whiny, pathetic, right into his ear.

Atilla let out a dry laugh-exhausted, not even trying to be funny.

“It is.” He took a deeper breath. “If I die on the way, at least promise you’ll cry for me.”

“Atilla!”

“I’m kidding,” he muttered. “I think,”

I was about to snap back when a sound sliced through the air.

I froze.

“Do

you

hear that?”

Atilla stopped.

We both turned at the same time.

And then we saw it.

A wagon coming up behind us.

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Chapter 65

Slow. Creaking. Rolling like it had all the time in the world.

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An older man sat up front holding the reins, plain clothes, calm face-while the back was stacked with things: sacks, boxes, even an old cabinet wobbling on top.

Atilla lifted a hand.

‘Sir!”

The man slowed the horses and pulled to a stop.

Well hey there,” he said, friendly. “Afternoon.”

Atilla stepped forward.

‘You headed to Hollow Creek?”

‘Sure am.” The man nodded. “Got some deliveries.”

Atilla pointed toward the back of the wagon.

‘Can you take us?”

The man looked at me, then Atilla, then the tiny cramped space behind all the cargo.

‘I mean… yeah.” He shrugged. “It’s tight, but it’ll work.”

I stared at that narrow little corner and thought, panicked, How are me and Atilla supposed to fit back there?

But we didn’t have a choice.

“Thank you,” I said, awkward.

The man tipped his head.

“Hop on,”

Atilla climbed

up

first and sat on a low bench.

I stood there for half a second, frozen with embarrassment.

He looked at me.

“Come here,”

I climbed up.

And immediately ended up in his lap.

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MTM.

Because there was literally nowhere else to sit.

There was a pile of junk stacked between us and the old man, like an accidental wall.

The man clicked his tongue at the horses and started driving again.

The

wagon rolled forward.

And it bounced.

A lot.

Dirt road. Deep ruts. Every bump launched me right into Atilla’s lap.

And every time I went up and down, my brain did the worst thing it possibly could.

It imagined.

It imagined us naked.

It imagined his hands on me.

It imagined his mouth on my skin.

I tried to stay still.

I really did.

But it was impossible.

The wagon jolted and I rubbed against him without meaning to.

Until I felt it.

Hard.

Way too hard.

Like stone.

My face went up