Semua Bab Lycan King's Hybrid Captive: Bab 71 - Bab 80

Celest’s POV Jordan barged into the office with a smoothie in one hand and a stack of folders under his arm. “Don’t ask me how, but Jemima is still at home arguing with the mirror about what counts as business-casual.”I grinned, spinning slightly in my office chair. “Let me guess—she’s wearing heels today?”He barked a laugh. “Heels, lashes, and enough perfume to suffocate a small animal.”I chuckled. “We're in for some chaos today”He smirked, then paused. “Speaking of chaos... I’ve got news.”“Oh no. Is it Jemima-related?” I asked, only half-joking.“Worse.” He leaned against my desk, setting the folders down with a dramatic sigh. “I’ve got something that’ll make your eyebrows shoot into orbit.”I tilted my head, intrigued. “Is it about the audition?”He nodded, his expression suddenly serious. “Celest, you’re not going to believe this.”That shift in his tone made my stomach twist a little. “Spill it. Now.”He slid the top folder toward me. “Lily made it into the finals.”The wor

Celest’s POV I barely registered the small movement before a crisp, white tissue was pressed gently into my trembling hands. Jordan, who was ever the picture of composure, was sitting beside me now. His proud smirk softened just a touch. The way he handed me the tissue had unsaid words attached to them. I wiped my cheeks, sniffling softly, then looked up at him with a humor that caught me by surprise. “You really have to say something like that even when you’re being kind? Like you’re some kind of motivational speaker who never misses a chance?”Jordan’s eyes twinkled with that usual arrogance and something I can only call genuine care. “Someone’s got to,” he replied. “Besides, I’m a man of many talents. Brains, charm, and the occasional pep talk.” He paused. “For real though. Don't look back, Celest. Be brave. Be who you truly want to be.”I chuckled through my tears, feeling relief in my chest for a short while. The tension that had been strangling me loosened as Jordan’s presenc

Celest’s POV The second I saw the looming black gates of that cursed villa, my stomach dropped like a stone. The bitter chill of déjà vu clawed at my spine. Everything about this place—the sharp scent of pine, the heavy silence, the way the shadows curled like ghosts in the corners—screamed danger. Trauma.I slammed my fists against Magnus's back, my voice hoarse from shouting all the way here. “Put me down, you psycho!”But of course, he didn’t. He only grunted in response, muscled arms tightening around my waist like a steel trap. The guards stationed at the front door didn’t dare to meet my eyes. Cowards.With a swift kick of his boot, he shoved the door open. The inside hadn’t changed. Still high ceilings and cold marble. Still that same nauseating blend of dominance and detachment that haunted every inch of this place. He strode through the corridor, boots echoing with each thunderous step. My heart pounded with every sound.He didn’t speak. Not even when he stomped up the grand

Celest’s POVHis grip on my throat tightened, not enough to block the air completely, but enough to freeze me in place."If I were really that despicable," Magnus snarled, his voice a low growl that rumbled through his chest, "you wouldn’t dare talk to me like this right now."His golden eyes burned with fury, not the reckless rage I had seen before, but something darker—controlled, dangerous. Something broken.I stared at him, refusing to flinch. My heartbeat hammered in my ears, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing fear in my eyes.He let go. Not gently. Not with regret. Just released me like he suddenly remembered I wasn’t a threat.I coughed, staggering back, my hand flying to my neck. I could still feel the heat of his fingers lingering on my skin."You're insane," I spat.He didn't reply. He just turned away, jaw clenched, shoulders rigid, like he was restraining something primal.And I... I had no choice but to temporarily give in.Because I needed to survive. Bec

Celest’s POV The night was cloaked in silence, broken only by the distant hum of cicadas and the soft rustling of the trees in the wind. The moment my feet hit the ground, cradled securely in Jordan’s arms, I felt a fleeting rush of hope.We had made it. The pills had worked. Magnus hadn’t stirred. And I was finally out.I turned toward Jordan, his arms strong around me, his breath shallow but steady. We didn’t speak. We couldn’t. Not yet. Not while the chill of the unknown still gripped our skin.But then it happened, a blinding beam of white light pierced through the thick shadows of the garden. A spotlight, mounted on one of the villa’s perimeter towers, sliced through the darkness and bathed us in its damning glow.I froze. So did Jordan.And then I heard the crunch of something delicate being crushed.I looked up, and there he stood. Magnus. He was shirtless, towering and looking dangerous.High above us, on the villa’s third-floor balcony, with the moon casting pale silver acro