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Chapter 73: Not Just Any Blood
publish date:
2026-09-15 22:53:15
Latest chapter
Betrayed By My Mate, Now Claimed By The Lycan King Chapter 74: You Retrieved The Primer
We left Anton with water, a fresh guard rotation, and the knowledge that his continued survival depended on the information continuing to hold value. Upstairs, the keep had shifted into its night rhythm. Watches changed. The braced doors were checked again. The fragment's containment was inspected by Merja in person. The primer had been isolated three levels away under separate seals and continuous observation. Bjørn requested an audience before the second night watch fully settled. Gunnar allowed it under the same conditions as before: chains, guards, no privacy. Natasja was not brought. One Blackpine problem at a time. Bjørn looked like a man who had not wasted his hours in confinement. His eyes were clearer. The set of his shoulders had settled into something closer to endurance than calculation. "You retrieved the primer," he said as soon as we entered. It wasn't a question. "We did." "Then you understand why Jakob hasn't pressed the inner doors again. He's waiting
Betrayed By My Mate, Now Claimed By The Lycan King Chapter 73: Not Just Any Blood
Anton knew we had the primer before we opened the cell door. I saw it in the way his shoulders settled, the small release of tension that had nothing to do with relief and everything to do with a man confirming his own timing. The bruised wreck of his face still managed something like satisfaction. Gunnar closed the door behind us. The two guards remained in the corridor this time. What happened next didn't need an audience, but it did need witnesses close enough to intervene if Anton decided to force a cleaner end than he deserved. The primer sat on a small iron tray in Gunnar's hand, still wrapped in its inner cloth. Even through the layers I could feel the fragment under the eastern foundations answer it — a low, attentive pulse that pressed against the base of my skull. The connection between Gunnar and me carried the sensation late and slightly off, turning it into a dull metallic ache behind my eyes. Gunnar set the tray on the floor just beyond the reach of Anton's cha
Betrayed By My Mate, Now Claimed By The Lycan King Chapter 72:
Boredom was useful. Bored sentries were slower to interpret small sounds. The drainage outlets sat half-choked with old leaves and siege debris. Nina found the wrongness first — a flat stone that didn't belong, set too carefully against the base of the second buttress. Beneath it was a small oilcloth packet no larger than a closed fist. Sunna lifted it. Even from two paces away I felt the fragment under the keep answer. A low, hungry pulse rolled through the eastern foundations and straight up into my skull. The connection between Gunnar and me stuttered hard. For a moment the delayed feedback looped again — my spike of pressure feeding into him, his reaction feeding back into me — until he put a hand on the back of my neck and forced the shared sensation into a narrower channel. The loop broke. My vision cleared. "Move," Gunnar said. We almost made it back clean. Almost. A Blackpine sentry on the far picket line finally decided the shadows near the drainage works dese
Betrayed By My Mate, Now Claimed By The Lycan King Chapter 71: Destroy It?
Boredom was useful. Bored sentries were slower to interpret small sounds. The drainage outlets sat half-choked with old leaves and siege debris. Nina found the wrongness first — a flat stone that didn't belong, set too carefully against the base of the second buttress. Beneath it was a small oilcloth packet no larger than a closed fist. Sunna lifted it. Even from two paces away I felt the fragment under the keep answer. A low, hungry pulse rolled through the eastern foundations and straight up into my skull. The connection between Gunnar and me stuttered hard. For a moment the delayed feedback looped again — my spike of pressure feeding into him, his reaction feeding back into me — until he put a hand on the back of my neck and forced the shared sensation into a narrower channel. The loop broke. My vision cleared. "Move," Gunnar said. We almost made it back clean. Almost. A Blackpine sentry on the far picket line finally decided the shadows near the drainage works dese
Betrayed By My Mate, Now Claimed By The Lycan King Chapter 70: It Was Left Behind On Purpose
We didn't return to the war table. Gunnar took the stairs down to the deep cells instead, and I went with him. The decision needed no discussion. Natasja had given us names and threats. Bjørn had given us calculations. Neither of them had given us proof we could put our hands on. Anton still might. The corridor to the interrogation level was colder than the rest of the keep. Lanterns burned at longer intervals here. The air smelled of wet stone and old iron. Two guards straightened as we approached. Gunnar dismissed them to the far end of the passage with a look. What came next didn't need an audience. Anton looked worse than he had the night before. The broken nose had darkened into a broad bruise. Someone had given him water and a crust of bread; both sat untouched on the floor just beyond the reach of his chains. He tracked us the moment the door opened, eyes dull with fatigue but still carrying that same hard fanatic edge. Gunnar didn't sit. "The fragment under the eas
Betrayed By My Mate, Now Claimed By The Lycan King Chapter 69: We Hold. We Learn.
Matthías met us near the war table. His injured leg was still splinted, but he had stopped pretending it didn't slow him. "Blackpine survivors are secured," he reported. "No incidents. No attempts to communicate between groups. Bjørn and the woman are isolated. Sunna has the first watch on both." He paused. "The men are asking questions. About the fragment. About why we're keeping Blackpine alive after last night. About what the elders actually want." "What are you telling them?" Gunnar asked. "That the Lycan King will address the keep when there's something worth saying. Until then they hold their positions and their tongues." Gunnar gave a short nod. It was the correct answer. It would not hold forever. I looked toward the high windows. The light was beginning to shift toward late afternoon. A full day had nearly passed since the breach. The pause that had followed the night's fighting was starting to feel less like recovery and more like the held breath before the next consequ
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