All Chapters of The Lycan Prince's Blood : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

A quiet, soft knock—twice on Theon’s office door, then silence.Theon doesn’t look up immediately. He’s seated behind a thick table of dark oak, flipping through documents. His jacket is slung over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled, collar slightly open. It’s been a long day, judging from the look on his face. But the moment he realizes it’s her, something in his expression shifts—just enough to notice.“You’re up early,” he says, leaning back.She walks in, arms crossed loosely. There’s a hesitant beat in her steps. She doesn’t speak until the door shuts behind her.“I want a tour,” Lumina says.Theon arches a brow. “A tour?”“Yes,” she nods. “Of the pack. The war room, training grounds… Just want to know the place I’m stuck in.”He studies her. Quiet for a second too long.“You never asked for that before,” he says.“I’m asking now.”His eyes narrow slightly. “Why?”She shrugs. “I get bored sitting in your room all day. You said I’m not a prisoner, remember?”A ghost of a smile

The next day, Lumina restless, she enters an old sturdy, belonging to Alpha Lowell. Her guts tell her what she is looking for is there.Dust coats the floor like a veil of silence, thick and undisturbed. The wing has been closed off for years, left to time and ghosts, and Lumina steps into it like she’s breaking a spell. The air is cooler here, heavier, filled with the scent of aged paper and something faintly metallic, like the memory of blood. Her fingers twitch at her sides.She closes the door behind her slowly. The latch clicks into place with a dull sound, and the hallway swallows the light from the main corridor. Shadows stretch across faded wallpaper and half-covered portraits—forgotten generations with hollow eyes. She swallows, adjusting the scarf around her neck.No one saw her come this way. At least, she doesn’t think they did.The old study is near the end of the hall. She walks slowly, her steps light, body tense. Every creak of the wooden floorboards sounds too loud. S

Theon and Nioma’s wedding approached after a few days.Theon stands at the edge of the stone platform, spine locked, shoulders squared. He doesn’t shift, doesn’t blink, as the morning sun sharpens his silhouette against the gray sky. His ceremonial robe drapes over him in folds of deep obsidian trimmed with gold thread, regal and heavy. The crown rests in his palm, gleaming with forged expectation. Each breath he draws is controlled, deliberate. The crowd gathered in the clearing watches in reverent silence, the only sound the soft chant of the elders echoing through the trees.Lowell, Theon’s father, steps forward. His hand clasps Theon’s shoulder, firm with finality. His expression is carved from the same stone as the platform beneath them—proud, unreadable. He lifts the crown, and for a moment, the weight of it is visible in his hands.He places it on Theon’s head.A wave of howls ripples through the pack like a storm rolling in. Theon doesn’t flinch. His face remains still, a mask

Nioma paces her room, bare feet brushing against the cold floor. Her fingers twitch at her sides, nails digging into her palms. The silence around her is anything but peaceful. It scratches at her nerves, pushing the same thought over and over through her skull like a blade.“I’ll make sure he’s only yours in name.”Lumina’s voice won’t stop echoing.She spins toward the dresser and grabs her phone. Her hands tremble as she unlocks it, heart pounding in her chest like it’s trying to escape. She scrolls quickly, finds the name, and hits call. It rings once, twice—“Hello, Nioma,” a soft female voice answers.Nioma doesn’t bother with greetings. “Deborah, I need your help,” she says, breath short. “Is there a way to brainwash a man to love me?”There’s a pause on the other end.“Hm. There is,” Deborah says slowly, “but that’s a forbidden spell, my lady. Unless the person is your fated mate or has a bond nearly as strong, it could break him. It’s dangerous if it fails.”Nioma exhales sha

Rain dots Orion’s shoulders like falling ash as he steps out of the alley. The wind bites through his coat, but he doesn’t slow. His shoes hit the pavement with a sharp purpose, water slapping up with each stride. The streets are mostly empty, the kind of quiet that sinks teeth into bone. He walks like a man being hunted by his own thoughts, chasing a ghost with every step.He turns the corner into a neighborhood too clean to be ignored and too quiet to trust. He doesn’t know this place, but the name in his head is a compass, dragging him forward—Shane. That’s all he has. That’s all he needs.He barely slows his stride before he’s standing in front of the modest door, the cracked concrete steps damp from last night’s rain, the porch light flickering faintly above his head. He doesn’t belong here, not among rusted fences and mismatched rooftops. But he came anyway.Because Lumina lived here.Because he never bothered to know that before, and now it’s all he can think about.The door op