All Chapters of The Prince Of The Lycans My Mate Dark Secrets: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

The dawn over Theras felt borrowed.The sky was pale rose, edging into gold. Birds stirred cautiously. The wind carried a calm that didn’t sit right—too tidy, too rehearsed, like a pause held by someone mid-sentence.Ivy arrived at the ruins first.The battlefield stretched like a wound that had already stopped bleeding but hadn’t started healing. Scorched earth cratered underfoot. Pieces of old armor, wolf-forged during the earliest reign of the Lycans, lay half-buried in ash. The air smelled of iron and black pine. But there was another layer—ozone, like lightning had kissed the ground and lingered out of spite.She knelt by a pool of rainwater cupped in a broken stone bowl.Her face looked back at her. Scarred. Tired. Real.Except for the flicker around her pupils—a glitch of silver, gone as fast as it came.She blinked once, slowly. “Not today,” she whispered.Her voice sounded small in the empty gorge, but the gorge swallowed nothing. It listened.A crunch behind her.Jayden foll

Theras didn’t roar at sunrise anymore.It murmured. That was worse.The forest line moved first, subtle as a held breath. Leaves rotated in faint spirals when no wind touched them. Water in rock basins stayed still too long, mirroring nothing for seconds before remembering what to copy. The land behaved like it were checking a name twice before letting it sit down.Ivy hated that kind of pause.She and Jayden and Aelin tracked north without speaking, because mountain air treated sentences like offerings. Royals watch their words. Warriors, too. Aelin wasn’t shaking anymore. But her steps pressed moss like someone learning gravity again. You could almost hear her pulse, steady now, just under audible, like a heartbeat translated into skin after living too long as myth text.Jayden walked at her side. No glow. No show. The man carried intensity without volume. He absorbed threats with that same quiet containment he once used for commanding armies. Ivy matched his stride, but her fingers

No one slept.Theras didn’t allow it.Night came, but it arrived wrong—too neat, too even, like someone had smoothed the dark with a careful palm. Stars hung where they should, yet none of them blinked. The moon held steady without drifting a finger’s width across the sky.Frozen time was never at peace. It was surveillance.They camped at the edge of the eastern forest where roots clawed the soil like old thoughts that refused burial. Aelin sat apart from the fire, knees drawn in, arms loose but ready. Jayden stood watch without pacing. Ivy sharpened nothing this time. She cleaned her blade slowly, like a ritual meant to keep memory honest.And Aera sat on a fallen log, hands folded, staring at her own fingers as if still learning what they were allowed to touch.She breathed like someone afraid air might revoke itself.“This is the part no one tells echoes,” Ivy said quietly, not looking up. “Being real hurts longer than being infinite.”Aera lifted her head. Her eyes were the same

The archive didn’t follow them.That was the first sign something had changed.Usually, structures like that linger. They hum. They whisper from behind trees or beneath soil. They send pressure dreams and second thoughts. This one stayed where it was—smaller now, quieter, watching like a student who had finally learned to sit still.Theras felt lighter.Not healed. Not safe. Just… unburdened of one expectation.They moved east into land that had never needed crowns to function. Rolling stone flats. Low grass. Wind that didn’t curve around names. Even Ivy’s shoulders eased a fraction, blade strap creaking as tension let go without permission.Aera walked more easily now.Her steps still hesitated sometimes, but the ground answered her cleanly. No pull. No resistance. No sudden grammar checks in the air. When she breathed, nothing echoed back.“I think,” she said slowly, like testing a thought for cracks, “I can’t feel the crown at all anymore.”Jayden nodded. “That means it’s finally t

They reached the basin by nightfall.Not the wildflower field—that stayed behind them like a decision already made. This place was lower, broader, ringed by natural stone walls that curved inward as if the land had once tried to hold something here and then thought better of it.Aelin liked that.Nothing pressed. Nothing asked.The stars moved. Properly this time. No hovering. No watching.They made camp without speaking it into a ceremony. Ivy took first watch by habit, not command. Jayden checked the perimeter once, then stopped. The land didn’t need it.Aera sat near the fire, turning a small stone over and over in her fingers. Not a focus. Just something solid.“I keep expecting it to come back,” she said quietly. “The pull. The sense that I’m being… finished.”Aelin stirred the fire with a stick. “It might. Old systems don’t forget quickly.”Aera nodded. “But if it does, I don’t think I’ll freeze this time.”Jayden smiled faintly. “That’s usually how you know you’ve crossed somet