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CHAPTER 46: The Fracture
Last Updated:
2025-08-31 20:10:23
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The Billionaire’s Marked Mate CHAPTER 55: Echoes & Alliances
The package still sat on the glass table in Lucien’s private study. The toy wolf cub gleamed dully beneath the chandelier’s glow, its wooden joints worn soft from a child’s grip. The carved initials—T.B.—were unmistakable. Thomas Blackwood’s. Zaria couldn’t look away. Her fingers hovered over the toy, but it felt too fragile, too dangerous, as though it might splinter her world apart if she so much as touched it. A note had been folded inside its belly seam, the tiny parchment slipped with surgical precision into the crack. Four words, written in a hurried scrawl, pulsed in her mind like a curse: Forgive me, my daughter. The room was silent save for the faint tick of Lucien’s antique clock. He stood opposite her, one hand on the desk, the other clenched into a fist at his side. His shoulders radiated tension, a storm carefully caged beneath a tailored suit. “Who delivered this?” Lucien’s voice was low, dangerous. Mara shook her head. “No trace. It appeared at the gates. No
The Billionaire’s Marked Mate CHAPTER 54: Bloodlines & The Marrow Thread
The East Wing had not stopped echoing. Even after the last sigil dimmed and the final ember of the mirror’s flare faded, its cold breath still haunted the estate halls. The nobles left whispering, the council split clean down invisible lines, and Zaria felt the air itself humming like a taut string. That hum followed her into Mara’s chamber, where parchment lay scattered across mirrored desks, runes glowing faintly in blue chalk. Mara crouched over a fragment of the inscription they’d copied, her fingers smudged with ash from protective wards. Silas leaned against the window with the relaxed menace of a wolf half-shifted, while Rowan prowled the perimeter like he expected Kael himself to burst in. It was Mara who broke the silence. “‘The Marrow Thread binds where vows wound blood.’ That’s the closest I can give you.” Her voice was clinical, but her eyes flicked to Zaria. “This isn’t just history. It’s lineage. The prophecy is tied to bloodlines, and—” “And the bond,” Silas fin
The Billionaire’s Marked Mate CHAPTER 53: Opening The East Wing
The courtyard was velvet-draped in ceremony. Crystal chandeliers had been rolled into the long marble foyer so that when the press arrived with their murmuring drones and holocams, the Vane Estate shimmered with curated magnificence. To the casual eye it was another courtly gathering—an evening where nobles displayed their silk lapels and vintage champagne, where political rivals smirked from behind their glasses. But beneath the perfume, the tension was sharp enough to slice. Everyone knew why they were here. Lucien stood at the base of the grand staircase, posture carved in iron. To his left, Silas Renard—the pack’s Beta—watched the crowd with predator stillness. To his right, Zaria stood in black velvet, her chin high, hair braided with obsidian beads that caught the light. He hadn’t meant to touch her. Not in public. But as the first wave of dignitaries filed in, he felt her hand tremble. It was subtle, invisible to all but him. His fingers brushed hers, a whisper of warmth th
The Billionaire’s Marked Mate CHAPTER 52: The Pack Returns
The estate gates did not simply open that morning. They groaned as though something ancient had been summoned back from the earth. Zaria stood from her window in the West Wing, the drapery cool against her fingertips. The hush of the estate grounds—usually a seamless choreography of gardeners, chauffeurs, and polished order—had broken into murmurs. Guards shifted at their posts. The hum of engines thundered past the iron gates, too many cylinders for a diplomatic visit, too polished for anything less than a statement. The pack had returned. Luxury announced them first. A convoy of black cars, sleek and mirrored, curved into the courtyard like shadows folding into themselves. Two helicopters thudded above, scattering dust across the marble balustrades, their downdraft rattling the fountain’s surface. For all their grace, the arrivals radiated savagery held just under the skin. The estate’s staff lowered their gazes. At the center of the procession stepped Silas Renard. Lucien’s s
The Billionaire’s Marked Mate CHAPTER 51: Confidante & Consequence
Lucien’s men patrolled in double shifts. The staff who usually floated through halls with practiced elegance now hurried, eyes lowered, carrying trays as though each cup of tea weighed a fortune. Even the chandeliers seemed sharper, crystal edges catching light like blades. Lucien himself was taut as a bowstring. At breakfast, he had scarcely touched his glass of water, gaze distant as though tracking invisible chess pieces. Yet whenever his eyes met hers, there was something else—something that coiled tight in his shoulders. Protective. Watchful. And maybe… worried. Zaria could not sit idle. The discovery of her father’s name etched into the East Wing ledger still burned in her chest like an ember refusing to die. It was proof—small, dry, written in ink and margin notes—but proof nonetheless that he had not been the monster they painted him to be. He had acted, not for greed, but for her. And someone had punished him for it. ⸻ Later, alone in her chamber, she unwrapped the
The Billionaire’s Marked Mate CHAPTER 50: East Wing Footsteps
The estate did not breathe the same way the next morning. The chandeliers in the great hall still dripped with crystal light, the velvet runners on the long banquet table shimmered in their deep garnet shade, and the line of chauffeured cars idled at the base of the Wolfe gates, their engines purring like sleek cats. Yet beneath all that luxury, a raw tension simmered—like the walls themselves had inhaled Kael’s threat and were still holding their breath. Servants spoke in clipped whispers. Sponsors who had not yet fled muttered about “security concerns,” their designer heels clicking too quickly across marble. Even the distant hum of private jets preparing to depart from the airstrip sounded sharper, more urgent, as if the sky itself wanted to shake off last night’s shadow. Lucien had barely left Zaria’s side since Kael’s retreat. He stood near her now at the breakfast table, not eating, not drinking, just existing beside her in a way that was equal parts protector and storm. His
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