The Rejected Rogue Was Their Lost Princess
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Cast out as a rogue and branded a failure, Elara endured years of isolation and cruelty. However, a startling revelation shatters her reality: she is the long-lost princess of a powerful royal lineage. As her true heritage awakens, the very people who once shunned her now seek her favor. Caught between a blossoming romance and her newfound duties, Elara must reclaim her throne while navigating the dangerous politics of the werewolf world.
The Rejected Rogue Was Their Lost Princess Chapter 1
My mate was found by the Southern Pack and regained his memory.
But he forgot me.
To help him remember, I tried everything.
When I limped to bring him the rare herb soup, I overheard his friend ask:
“You’ve already remembered everything, haven’t you? Why keep it from her?”
He chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice:
“I promised her ‘one mate for life.’”
“But the Southern Pack can’t have a rogue as their Luna, can they?”
“It’s just easier this way.”
So my mate, the one I knew, was already gone.
I continued to bring him the soup.
I continued to arrange his marking ceremony with Briella Phillips.
But on his marking night, I left a rejection letter.
And stepped into the car that came to take me away.
==============================
Carrying the rare herb soup, I stumbled on my way to Talon Fernandez.
The glass shattered, and shards cut my knee, blood seeping through.
But I didn’t feel the pain.
The healer said the soup had to be served hot.
If it cooled, the potency would fade.
As I reached the door, I heard a familiar voice:
“You’ve already remembered everything, haven’t you? Why keep it from her?”
I froze.
Talon’s voice followed:
“If I didn’t, there would’ve been chaos long ago.”
He laughed softly:
“I promised her ‘one mate for life.’”
“But the Southern Pack can’t have a rogue as their Luna, can they?”
“It’s just easier this way.”
Only then did the pain in my knee begin to surface.
A slow, deep ache that seemed to seep into my bones.
When I was fifteen, I found a gravely injured boy by the river.
He remembered nothing except his last name, Fernandez.
Young and naive, we grew close, and eventually became mates.
On my birthday that year, he said he’d go to the town to find me a special gift.
He never returned.
When we met again, he was the Beta of the Southern Pack.
He remembered everything—except me.
All these years, I’ve tried everything to help him recall our past.
I told him stories, reenacted moments, sought healers, gathered rare herbs.
This bowl of rare herb soup in my hands was the result of a month in the snowy mountains.
And three days on my knees in front of the eccentric healer’s cabin.
Only to find out.
He had remembered all along.
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