All Chapters of Lycan King's Hybrid Captive: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Celest’s POVThe hospital corridors stretched out in front of me, long and sterile, as if they were swallowing me whole. My footsteps echoed on the gleaming white tiles, sharp and loud in the oppressive silence. I pressed a hand against my chest, willing my heart to slow down, but it was useless.I had no idea why I was walking so fast. Or why my fingers kept clenching at my sides like I was preparing for a fight. All I knew was that my body was moving before I could think—driven by a restlessness that was clawing up my throat, making it hard to breathe.The image of Magnus and that woman—her tear-streaked face, her hand brushing his sleeve—played over and over in my mind like a broken record. Each time it replayed, a sharp stab twisted somewhere deep inside me.I reached my hospital room and sank down onto the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under my weight, but it felt no more real than the floor beneath my feet. He wouldn’t betray me. He wouldn’t... would he?I squeezed my eye

Magnus's POV Riven had barely gotten the words out before my entire body stiffened.“She says… she says her family once saved your life.”I froze mid-step outside the hospital, letting those words sink in. My brows furrowed, and I glanced sideways at him, trying to mask the flicker of uncertainty running through my chest.“She claims her family saved me?” I echoed, my voice low and skeptical.Riven nodded. “That’s what she said. She’s waiting in the reception hall. Wouldn’t say much else except that it’s urgent.”“And her name?” I asked, almost absently, but with a strange pull tightening in my chest.“She said her name is… Lira.”That name. It didn’t slam into me like a memory—it crept up slowly, like a whisper brushing against the edge of my consciousness. Faint. Familiar. But I couldn’t place it.“Do you remember her?” Riven asked, watching me carefully.I didn’t answer at first. Instead, I took a slow breath and adjusted the collar of my coat.“I’m going to see her,” I said. “Sta

Magnus POV The drive back to the Lycan territory was a blur. My mind was racing, thoughts colliding in a storm that I couldn’t calm. How could she just leave without a word? Without warning? I told myself I wasn’t angry with her. I was angry with myself, angry with the situation, angry with the way everything had spiraled out of control.But deep down, I couldn’t escape the gnawing feeling that something had changed—something important had broken. The thought of her walking out of my life completely, the idea that I could never see her again, stung more than I was willing to admit.As the car pulled into the gates of the Lycan estate, I felt afraid. The air was too still, too quiet. The kind of silence that was never a good sign.I stepped out of the car, and before I even reached the front door, I knew something was wrong. The servants who had been working for me for years avoided making eye contact. Their faces were tight, expressions strained. I could tell they weren’t going to be

Celest’s POV I was already up a few minutes past 7. By 9am, I was already walking side by side with Jemima through the company's hallways. I was taking in everything around me: the walls adorned with glossy posters of past clients, all of whom had gone on to massive success. Each of them looked so polished, so perfect, that it made me wonder how someone like me could ever belong in a place like this."You'll get used to it," Jemima said, glancing at me as she led the way. Her steps were sure, confident, like she had been walking these halls for years. Of course she has. "Just try to keep your head down and not get overwhelmed. There’s a lot of pressure around here, but you’re a natural at handling pressure, aren’t you?"I forced a smile, trying to push my own uncertainty to the back of my mind. "I’ll manage," I said, though my voice didn’t quite carry the same level of assurance I was hoping for.Jemima opened a door at the end of the hall, revealing a spacious office with a sleek, m

Celest’s POV The sharp scent of whiskey lingered in the air, mixing with the low hum of music vibrating through the dimly lit bar. I wrapped my fingers tightly around the glass Pierce had handed me earlier, but I hadn’t touched the drink. My mind was too restless, my heart too heavy.Pierce studied me across the small table, his expression painted with patience and concern side by side. He was relaxed, leaning back in his seat, but I could tell he was watching me closely, waiting for me to speak.I set the glass down, pushing it away slightly. "I came here tonight… because I was looking for someone," I finally said, my voice barely carrying over the muted sounds around us.Pierce raised an eyebrow. "Someone specific?"I nodded, feeling the weight of my decision to trust him. "His name is Jordan."The name seemed to strike a chord in him. He sat up straighter, his casual demeanor sharpening in an instant. "Jordan?"I searched his face, desperate for some reaction that would tell me I