All Chapters of The Lycan Prince's Blood : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Marco steps into the packhouse, his presence commanding as the guards standing in the hallway instantly straighten. The air is thick with tension, whispers dying the moment he passes. His expression is unreadable, but his sharp eyes scan the room as if already sensing something is amiss.The moment he enters the war room with his Beta, Stephen. His Gamma and the others were waiting. His clothes are slightly disheveled, the scent of travel and blood clinging faintly to him. He had just returned from searching for Lowell as they divided the day they went out into the forest to look for him, and from the dark look on his face, Marco can already guess he found nothing.Marco doesn’t greet him. There’s no need, they already know what happened to him. Instead, he turns to Gregor, one of his senior guards, standing rigidly with his hands clasped behind his back.“Report,” Marco orders, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.Gregor hesitates anyway. His jaw clenches slightly before he final

The smell of herbs in the air reminds Felicia of the warm bowl of soup she is supposed to serve Nana as she moves down the narrow hallway. She’s been thinking so much, she makes her way to Nana’s room, the guards by the door no longer even bother to look at her, they’ve seen her so often that they do not even look at her anymore.Nana sits by the window and looks up to the night sky, inside. The exhaustion is written on her forehead, her face pale. She doesn’t turn when Felicia enters, she doesn’t feel the need. Not caring whoever it is that enters.Felicia sets the tray down on the table. “You need to eat.”Nana remains silent.Felicia sighs and walks closer, lowering her voice. “This is the third meal you’ve ignored today. You’re getting weaker.”“I don’t care,” Nana murmurs.Felicia stiffens. “You should care. You’re not just fighting for yourself anymore.”Nana’s fingers tighten around the fabric of her dress. “I can’t do this, Felicia. I can’t stay here and let them use my child.

For months, she had tried to escape, pushing her body beyond its limits, clinging to the desperate hope that she could flee before Marco carried out his plans. But every attempt ended the same way.The first time, she had tried to sneak out when the guards changed their shifts, waiting until the guards grew too comfortable under the assumption that her swollen belly made her weak and she couldn’t run. She attacked, clawing through flesh, feeling the surge of power from the unborn child inside her. The strength was intoxicating, giving her an edge she never had before. She had ripped through three guards before her body betrayed her. The power vanished in an instant, leaving her limbs heavy, her breath shallow. She collapsed right outside the gate, and before she could drag herself any farther, Marco’s men seized her, dragging her back inside like a wounded animal.After that, security doubled. The guards became ruthless, watching her with cold, unreadable eyes. Still, she tried again.

Far beyond the walls, outside, a battle rages on; the sounds of steel clashing and the shrieks of warriors fighting seem to drift into her ears, her prison walls trembling against the distance of the dark world. Nana's heart screams against her ribs. This is the moment she has been waiting for. Outside of her prison, the guards were shifting uneasily. Nana could hear them murmur in hushed tones, their patience wearing thin with every passing moment. There was almost a temptation to go out and join the battle. Some of them had already deserted their stations, lured by the call to war, leaving but a handful behind. Nana remains unmoving in the corner of the room. Her wrists throb from the rough ropes that had bound her earlier. Her eyes trace the flickering light of the candle on the stone walls while she bites hard on the torn hem of her dress. Tension hangs thick in the air, but Nana is wise enough to restrain herself. Outside rages on, and a voice suddenly cuts across all that noi

Inside the chaos, Nana and Felicia move with quiet desperation, their breaths shallow, their steps hurried. The battle outside shakes the walls around them. The weak body, the unbroken will, but every cry of pain, every howl of a dying wolf still sends a shiver down Nana’s spine and she pushes forward. She takes Felicia’s wrist and leads the way. “Stay close,” she whispers. She’s weak, strain in her voice, but she won’t give up. Falling guards; many barely breathing, others long dead litter the path to the outer gates. Nana and Felicia were easier to slip past because the war had taken their focus. And every step is harder, every shadow feels as though it is a danger. A low growl freezes them as they near the exit. Marco. His form is lit by the burning torches, and he stands there. His face is grim, and his dark eyes blaze fury, his lips curled in a snarl. His armor is stained with blood, his own, and that of the warriors he had cut down with no mercy. The battle had taken hi