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Chapter 57 – The Return Home

Auteur: Ochanya C.
last update Date de publication: 2026-03-29 19:14:00

The royal legions began the long march back to the capital the morning after the final victory in the Black Veil Forest.

The journey was slower than the advance south. Wounded soldiers rode in carts. Captured Shadow Crown prisoners were guarded heavily. The army moved with the quiet exhaustion of men who had fought for months and finally seen the end of war.

Caelan rode beside Lucien near the front of the column, the gray mare now walking with a steadier gait. The mating bite on his neck remain
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  • The Kings Forbidden Mate   Chapter 214 The Throne Room Reckoning

    The grand throne room felt like a cage of marble and whispers.After the initial session, the court had been dismissed for a brief recess, but the tension had only thickened. Caelan stood beside Lucien’s throne, silver robe immaculate, the mating bite on his neck deliberately visible. His quiet intelligence kept him alert, moonlight threads drifting subtly around his fingers, sensing every shift in the nobles’ moods.Lucien sat on the central throne, powerful and unyielding, golden eyes sweeping the room like a predator. His hand rested possessively on the arm of the consort’s throne, a silent claim that every noble could see.Elara Voss remained kneeling in the center, chains binding her, violet eyes still defiant. Rowan stood to the left, no longer chained but heavily watched, his charismatic smile masking the calculation in his gaze.Lord Varak stepped forward once more, his voice heavy with the weight of tradition. “Your Majesty, the court has seen the demonstration at Blackthorn

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    The royal party crested the final hill as the sun dipped low, bathing the capital in hues of crimson and gold. The city sprawled below them like a living beast — banners fluttering, smoke rising from countless hearths, and the distant roar of crowds already gathering in the streets. Word of the confrontation at Blackthorn Pass had traveled faster than hooves.Caelan rode beside Lucien, his silver robe dusty from the long journey, the mating bite on his neck still faintly visible beneath the collar. His body ached from the battle and the constant drain of power, yet his silver eyes remained sharp, moonlight threads drifting subtly around his fingers as he scanned the approaching gates.Lucien sat tall on his warhorse, one hand resting possessively on Caelan’s thigh whenever the path allowed. A fresh scar marked his shoulder where Elara’s blast had struck, but the wound had healed cleanly under Caelan’s threads. His golden eyes swept the road ahead with ruthless vigilance.Behind them,

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