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Chapter Forty-Four
Last Updated:
2025-04-02 01:29:18
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Fated Vengeance: A Mate's Reckoning Chapter Forty-Five
The air beyond Lucian’s chambers was chillier than it would be otherwise, or perhaps that was simply the impact of the storm raging inside me. My heart was still hammering from that last moment, from the way his fingers had skimmed my skin, from the way his words had clung to me as if they belonged. I hated how quickly he unraveled me.I trudged down the dark hall, warding away the heaviness of our exchange, but it clung to me stubbornly and tenaciously. And he had stood there, completely still, completely unfazed, as though he knew I would return.That arrogance. That confidence.It made me want to scream.Or worse—turn back around.No. I needed space. I needed air.The halls were quiet, the majority of the pack already tucked in for the night. But I wasn’t ready for sleep. Not with the way my thoughts were spinning, crashing, won’t calm down. I found myself heading toward the training grounds, following the pull of muscle memory and a desperate need to move my body without thinking
Last Updated : 2025-04-03Fated Vengeance: A Mate's Reckoning Chapter Forty-Six
The night air was thicker this time, pushing against my skin as I made my way back into the main hall, my heart pounding against my chest. The words of Killian echoed in my mind, an ominous drumbeat that wouldn’t go away.A public ceremony. To mark me.Lucian had orchestrated this without my knowledge. He’d made up his mind, as he always did, without checking in with me, without asking my permission. The sound of it, of being his in front of a crowd, in front of all of the pack, sent a shudder up my spine.And the worst part?I wasn’t so sure I hated the idea.I hated him, or I wanted to hate him. But the yearning, fierce magnetism between us was inescapable. The way his eyes darkened whenever I was near, the way his voice went low on the slightest dip when he spoke my name, the way I had no magical powers and my body rebelled any time he got near.And now? Now he was forcing my hand.I marched through the corridors without paying attention to the glances of the guards at night. Each
Last Updated : 2025-04-04Fated Vengeance: A Mate's Reckoning Chapter Forty-Seven
The morning arrived too soon.I had barely slept, the weight of Lucian’s words pressing down on me like a vice. You know this is bigger than just you and me. The worst part was that I did. I knew it. But that didn’t mean I had to like it.The thought of being marked in front of everyone, of becoming his in a way that was irreversible, sent a whirlwind of conflicting emotions spiraling inside me.And yet, there was a part of me that wasn’t just resisting out of principle. A part of me that was terrified—because once it happened, there would be no more denying what I already felt.I sat on the edge of the massive bed, staring at my hands. They were shaking.A knock at the door made me jump.I inhaled sharply before forcing my voice to remain steady. “Come in.”The door opened, and Killian stepped inside, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t in his usual uniform. Instead, he looked more relaxed—well, as relaxed as someone like Killian could ever look."You look like hell," he said, closi
Last Updated : 2025-04-05Fated Vengeance: A Mate's Reckoning Chapter Forty-Eight
The room felt smaller after Lucian’s words, the air too thick to breathe. Enough to start a war. My mind raced, replaying every moment with Killian, every cryptic word he’d dropped like breadcrumbs I hadn’t bothered to follow. There might be another way. Had he meant betrayal all along? Or was this something else—something I couldn’t yet grasp?Lucian stood by the door, his broad frame taut with barely restrained fury. His hands flexed at his sides, like he was itching to hit something—or someone. I didn’t blame him. I felt it too, that restless burn under my skin, the kind that comes when you realize you’ve been blindsided by someone you thought you could trust.“What does he know?” I asked again, my voice sharper this time. I wasn’t letting it go.Lucian’s silver eyes flicked to me, hard and unyielding. “You don’t need to—”“Don’t,” I cut him off, stepping closer. “Don’t pull that ‘protecting me’ crap. If Killian’s gone to the Bloodfangs with something that could destroy us, I deser
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The growls multiplied, rippling through the trees like a wave of menace. My grip tightened on the blade, the cold steel grounding me as the shadows took shape—hulking figures, eyes glinting in the pre-dawn gloom. Bloodfangs. At least a dozen, maybe more. My stomach lurched, but I shoved the fear down. I’d faced worse odds in the training circle. This was just… bigger.Lucian stepped forward, his presence a wall of barely contained fury. “Get ready,” he muttered, his voice low and steady. The trackers fanned out, forming a loose semicircle around us, their own weapons drawn or claws extended. The air crackled with tension, every breath sharp and deliberate.A figure emerged from the pack—a tall, wiry man with a scar slashing across his left cheek. His eyes were a pale, unsettling yellow, and the smirk on his face made my skin crawl. “Lucian,” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “Didn’t expect you to come running so soon. Thought you’d send your dogs first.”“Ragnar,” Lucian sa
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The forest was eerily quiet after the Bloodfangs’ retreat, the kind of silence that presses against your ears and makes every rustle feel like a threat. Killian sat propped against the tree, his breathing ragged, his wrists still bound with coarse rope. Lucian loomed over him, a storm of tension radiating from his frame. I stood a few steps back, my blade still in hand, my mind spinning with Killian’s words. *They want you most of all.*“Why me?” I asked, my voice cutting through the stillness. It came out sharper than I meant, but I didn’t care. I needed answers.Killian’s head tilted toward me, his bruised face catching the faint light filtering through the trees. “Because you’re the key,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “The Bloodfangs don’t just want revenge on Lucian. They want control—over this pack, over the region. And you? You’re the leverage.”Lucian’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. His eyes stayed locked on Killian, dark and unreadable.“Leverage for what?” I
Last Updated : 2025-04-08Fated Vengeance: A Mate's Reckoning Chapter Fifty-One
The aftermath was a haze of exhaustion and adrenaline, the kind that leaves your bones heavy but your mind buzzing. The Bloodfangs’ camp was a wreck—tents torn, fires smoldering, bodies scattered across the clearing. The air stank of blood and smoke, sharp and acrid, clinging to my clothes. I wiped my blade on my pant leg, the motion automatic, my hands still shaky from the fight. My lip throbbed where Ragnar had hit me, and every breath stung, but I was alive. We all were.Lucian stood a few feet away, barking orders to the trackers—secure the perimeter, check for survivors, gather anything useful. His voice was steady, but I caught the tension in his shoulders, the way his fists clenched when he thought no one was looking. He’d killed Ragnar, ended the immediate threat, but I could tell it wasn’t over for him. Not yet.Killian slumped against a tree nearby, wrapping a strip of torn fabric around the gash on his arm. He caught my eye and flashed a tired grin. “You look like you could
Last Updated : 2025-04-09Fated Vengeance: A Mate's Reckoning Chapter Fifty-two
Sleep didn’t come easy. I drifted in and out, caught between the ache in my body and the tangle in my head. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ragnar’s scarred face, heard Killian’s warning, felt Lucian’s hands on me—steady, warm, too real. By the time the first light crept through the window, I gave up, rolling out of bed with a groan. My muscles screamed in protest, but I ignored them, splashing cold water on my face from the basin in the corner. The mirror showed a mess—bruises darkening my arm, a scab forming on my lip—but I looked alive. That was something.Downstairs, the hall was already buzzing. Pack members milled around, voices low but urgent, piecing together what had happened in the night. I caught snippets— Bloodfangs, ambush, Ragnar’s death —and felt their eyes on me as I passed. Not hostile, not anymore, but curious, maybe even respectful. I wasn’t just the outsider now. I’d fought with them, bled with them. It shifted something, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
Last Updated : 2025-04-09
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The Hollow’s sands crunched under our boots as we left its glowing crystal behind, the desert stretching endless and unforgiving under a sky streaked with fading violet, the Veil’s pulse a faint hum in the air. The mark on my chest throbbed, a relentless tie to the shadow, the flame, the void, and Lyra the spark walking beside me, her shard glowing faintly, her blue eyes my eyes haunted but resolute. The dagger at my hip was warm, its symbols flickering, syncing with her shard, binding us to the Veil’s fragile heart. The bond with Lucian burned his steady heartbeat, my wavering courage, our shared defiance but it couldn’t erase the keepers’ test, their visions of sacrifice: one stays, one guards, one ends, one breaks. The trinity now four was ours, and the choice loomed, a shadow as heavy as the war we fought.Lucian led, his blade sheathed but his hand close, blood crusted on his arm, his silver eyes scanning the desert’s dunes for threats. The air was dry, sharp with the scent of d
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The pack’s compound rose like a fortress from the forest’s embrace, its wooden walls battered but unyielding, torches blazing against the creeping dusk. The air was cold, heavy with the scent of pine and the faint metallic tang of the city’s lingering echo, a reminder of the mirror’s chaos, the void’s white eyes, and her scream—my scream—still clawing at my mind. The mark on my chest pulsed, a relentless tether to the shadow, to the flame, to the void, and now to Lyra, the spark, walking beside me, her shard glowing faintly, her blue eyes—my eyes—etched with the same dread and determination I felt. The dagger in my hand was warm, its symbols flickering, syncing with her shard, binding us to the Veil’s fractured heart. The bond with Lucian thrummed—his fierce heartbeat, my unraveling courage, our shared resolve—but it couldn’t silence the truth: the trinity was a lie, not three but four—lock, spark, flame, void—and the choice, one stays, one guards, one ends, was a weight I could bar
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The Cradle’s glow lingered in my vision as we trekked back through the mountains, the plateau’s black stone and pulsing crystal now a memory, but its weight clung to me like damp earth. The mark on my chest throbbed, a steady pulse tying me to the Veil, to her—the shadow—and to the flame, whose fading words, hurry, echoed in my mind. The dagger at my hip hummed faintly, its symbols dim but restless, mirroring the shard in Lyra’s hand, her blue eyes—my eyes—fixed on the path ahead, her presence a constant reminder of the trinity: lock, spark, flame. The bond with Lucian burned—his unwavering strength, my fragile resolve, our shared defiance—but it couldn’t silence the choice looming over us: one stays, one guards, one ends. A sacrifice I wasn’t ready to face.Lucian led, his blade sheathed but his hand close, blood crusted on his arm, his silver eyes scanning the rocky trail for threats. The air was cold, the mountains’ peaks sharp against a sky streaked with fading violet, a remnant
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The Cradle swallowed us whole, the tear’s violet light spitting us onto a plateau of black stone, its surface veined with glowing runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. The air was heavy, charged, not with the city’s metallic tang but something older—earth, blood, time itself. The mark on my chest burned, syncing with the dagger in my hand and the shard in Lyra’s grip, their symbols flaring in unison, tying us to this place, to the Veil’s first node, its forge. The bond with Lucian thrummed—his fierce resolve, my trembling courage, our shared defiance—but it couldn’t drown out the flame’s voice, it’s time, or the shadow’s distant laugh, a cold thread weaving through my blood. The trinity—lock, spark, flame—was here, and the Cradle was waking, its echoes stirring, ready to test us.Lucian stood close, his blade drawn, blood crusted on his arm, his silver eyes scanning the plateau’s edges, where cliffs dropped into a void—not sky, but chaos, stars and shadows churning, the Veil’s raw edge
Fated Vengeance: A Mate's Reckoning Chapter Seventy-Four
The pack’s compound loomed ahead, its wooden walls scarred but standing, torches casting flickering light against the encroaching dusk. The forest was quiet now, the hum of the city’s bridge gone, the shadow’s scream—my scream—fading into memory, but the mark on my chest pulsed, a relentless tie to her, to the flame, to the Veil’s trembling heart. The dagger in my hand felt heavier, its symbols faintly glowing, syncing with the shard in Lyra’s grip—the other me, the spark, her blue eyes wide with the same exhaustion and fear I felt. The bond with Lucian burned—his steady resolve, my unraveling certainty, our shared fight—but it couldn’t silence the flame’s words: lock, spark, flame, the Veil’s trinity, to choose. A choice I didn’t understand, but one that held the world’s fate.Lucian led, his blade sheathed but his hand close, blood crusted on his arm, his silver eyes scanning the compound’s gates for threats. “We’re here,” he said, his voice rough, a mix of relief and tension. “The
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The forest’s edge was a jagged line between us and the pack’s compound, its smoke curling into a sky bruised with fading violet, the last trace of the fracture’s glow. The mark on my chest pulsed, a steady ache tying me to her—my shadow—and now to the other me, the spark, standing beside me, her blue eyes mirroring my exhaustion, her shard glowing faintly in her trembling hand. The dagger at my hip was warm, its symbols dim but alive, a quiet reminder of the power we’d wielded—and the cost. The bond with Lucian thrummed—his fierce heartbeat, my fraying resolve, our shared determination—but it couldn’t silence the Architect’s voice, "bring them to me", or her laugh, "you’re mine", still echoing in my bones. We’d pushed them back, but the war was closing in, and we were running out of time.Lucian’s hand rested on my arm, his silver eyes scanning the trees, blood crusted on his face, his wounds raw but ignored. “We’re almost there,” he said, his voice low, rough from the fight. “The pac
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The forest stood frozen in the aftermath, the glowing runes on the ground now ash, their light snuffed out like a dying star. The gate was gone, its collapse leaving only a faint hum in the air, a ghostly echo of the city beyond the Veil. My chest heaved, the mark pulsing with a dull, insistent ache, tying me to her—my shadow—and now to her, the other me, the spark they’d hidden, standing before me with my face, my voice, but blue eyes brimming with fear and a shard glowing in her trembling hands. The dagger in my grip felt heavier, its symbols flickering, as if unsure of the new presence—her shard, my dagger, two pieces of the same fractured whole. The bond with Lucian thrummed—his fierce resolve, my spiraling shock, our shared need to survive—but it couldn’t quiet the truth screaming in my mind: I was not one, but many, split by a ritual, bound to the Veil, and now reunited in a war I barely understood.Lucian’s blade stayed raised, his body a shield between me and her—the other me—
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The valley’s stillness was a fragile mask, the air thick with the fading echo of the Architect’s voice and her scream—my scream—still ringing in my ears. The mark on my chest pulsed, a dull ache now, but alive, tying me to her, to him, to the Veil and its war. The dagger lay in my hand, its symbols dim but warm, a silent vow of battles yet to come. The bond with Lucian thrummed—his steady pulse, my fraying courage, our unbreakable tether—but it couldn’t erase the truth: I was the heart of a conflict older than the pack, older than me, and the city beyond the Veil was only the beginning.We stood in the mud, battered and bloodied, the stones behind us dark, their runes extinguished, the spiral’s glow gone. Lucian’s hand rested on my shoulder, his silver eyes fierce despite the blood streaking his face, his wounds untended but ignored. “We need to get back,” he said, his voice rough, cutting through the valley’s quiet. “The pack’s vulnerable, and we need answers—about the nodes, the Arc
Fated Vengeance: A Mate's Reckoning Chapter Seventy
The valley’s silence was a lie, a thin veneer over the trembling pulse of the Veil, still fragile after the core’s destruction. The mark on my chest throbbed, a faint but persistent echo of her—my shadow, my twin—weakened but not defeated, her presence a cold whisper in my blood. The dagger hung at my hip, its symbols dark, its hum silenced, but I felt its weight like a promise of battles yet to come. The bond with Lucian burned—his heartbeat a steady drum, my resolve a flickering flame, our shared defiance a shield against the truths I’d uncovered in the Between: I wasn’t just pack, wasn’t just Angel. I was the Veil’s lock, its key, forged in a ritual I didn’t remember, tied to a city that called me home.We trudged through the muddy pass, the storm’s remnants dripping from jagged cliffs, the air heavy with the scent of wet stone and something sharper, metallic, like blood. Lucian walked beside me, his blade sheathed but his hand hovering near it, blood crusted on his arm, his silve
