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CHAPTER 95: Citadel Of War
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2025-09-12 21:08:50
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The Billionaire’s Marked Mate CHAPTER 98: Blood On Stone
The world at dawn was silent, as if the earth itself held its breath. The sacred battleground stretched wide and ancient, a plain of stone carved by time and war. Smooth slate stretched for miles, its surface darkened by centuries of blood spilled in honor and vengeance. Pillars rose like broken teeth, cracked obelisks etched with runes from the first Alphas. Mist curled across the ground, glowing faintly in the light of the blood-red moon that had not set, its lingering omen staining everything crimson.Wolves lined the edges of the battleground, ranks of bodies bristling with tension. Lucien’s pack stood in disciplined formation, black armor gleaming, blades at their sides, eyes burning like suns. Across from them, Kael’s wolves stretched in a feral sprawl, their leader’s cruelty reflected in every sneer, every bared fang, every restless shuffle of claws scraping stone.The Conclave stood between them, masked and cloaked, their Keeper at the center with her staff planted into the gr
The Billionaire’s Marked Mate CHAPTER 97: The Feast Of Oaths
The night before war wore a crown of light. Wolfe Tower, usually a citadel of glass and iron severity, glowed like a beacon against the skyline. Its windows shone with gold fire, its upper floors blazing as if the city itself were aflame. The river below caught the reflection, bending it into something liquid and dangerous. The world outside trembled with dread, but within the tower’s grand dining hall, the pack gathered for the oldest rite their kind had ever known.The Feast of Oaths.Crystal chandeliers spilled a thousand fractured lights across marble floors veined with black and silver. The table stretched the length of the hall—polished mahogany inlaid with steel sigils that caught every gleam of flame. Platters of venison, roasted boar, and blood-red beef steamed beside bowls of winter berries and goblets of wine so dark it might have been blood itself. Wolves in human skin and warriors in tailored black lined the benches and balconies, their laughter jagged, their sorrow hidde
The Billionaire’s Marked Mate CHAPTER 96: Love Before War
The moon hung over the city like a promise and a threat—white and merciless, bathing Wolfe Tower’s glass skin in a cold, accusing light. The rooftop was quiet now; the training drills had given way to the hush before a storm. Figures moved in the shadows below—sentinels pacing the parapets, healers whispering last-minute prayers, younger wolves polishing blades until each edge sang. The estate had become a machine of preparation, all gears grinding in a rhythm that matched Zaria’s pulse.Lucien found her where she always seemed to end up when the world pressed too hard into her ribs—on the balcony, close to the edge where the wind could try to tear her breath away and the city felt both frighteningly large and insignificantly small. The river below glimmered like a seam of quicksilver, the city’s lights stuttering like distant constellations. She stood with her hands on the railing, shoulders hunched against the night, the shards hidden beneath the cuff of her sleeve humming faintly a
The Billionaire’s Marked Mate CHAPTER 95: Citadel Of War
The night after the Shadow Alpha’s intrusion, Wolfe Tower no longer felt like a monument of luxury and dominance—it was a fortress.From the highest penthouse to the subterranean garages, every space shifted into readiness. The billionaire gloss remained—the skyline glittered through walls of glass, the marble floors shone, chandeliers cast liquid gold light across polished tables—but beneath it, war throbbed.The transformation was deliberate, relentless. Armories appeared where wine cellars had once been. Ritual blades gleamed on velvet stands, their edges kissed with silver and obsidian, etched in sigils older than empires. The glass walls of the rooftop garden became training fields, the roses replaced by racks of weapons and sigil stones that pulsed faintly in the moonlight.Zaria walked those halls, her senses raw from the Shadow’s visitation, and saw it all. Wolves sparring in formation across a ballroom that once hosted galas. Silk curtains drawn back to reveal floor-to-ceilin
The Billionaire’s Marked Mate CHAPTER 94: Shield And Claim
The suite reeked of ozone and smoke, as if lightning had ripped through the marble and glass. Zaria’s lungs still burned with the cold shadow-stench left behind, her heart slamming against her ribs like a caged bird. Lucien’s roar filled the room, primal and unrestrained. The sound rattled chandeliers, sent cracks spidering across one of the tall panes of glass. His aura exploded outward—heat, gold, fire, raw wolf dominance that made the very air vibrate. He stood before her like an avenging storm, chest heaving, golden eyes incandescent. His power slammed against the remnants of the shadow figure, scattering smoke into nothingness, shattering a crystal decanter on the sideboard in the process. “Show yourself!” Lucien bellowed, voice carrying the weight of centuries of Alpha command. “You dare step into my den, breathe near my mate—face me, coward!” But the figure was already fading, its form crumbling into streams of darkness that retreated toward the corners of the suite. Still,
The Billionaire’s Marked Mate CHAPTER 93: The Shadow’s Face
The Conclave adjourned deep into the night, but the chamber’s fractures still bled in Zaria’s mind long after the Alphas scattered back into their limousines, entourages, and private jets. The city outside Wolfe Tower shimmered with neon, glass, and steel, but to her it felt brittle, as if the world’s veneer was one sharp knock from shattering. Lucien walked her up to the penthouse level with the kind of silence that carried a thousand unspoken words. His hand was a ghost at her lower back, steady, protective, but restrained. He had fought a political war for hours; his shoulders carried the weight of too much loyalty and too many wolves whose faith was trembling. When the elevator doors whispered open into the vast suite, she wanted to cling to him, to beg him not to leave. But Lucien only brushed his lips once against her temple—brief, reverent, aching with the discipline of a man who loved her too fiercely to cage her—and murmured, “Rest. I’ll be in the war room. Call me for anyt
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