All Chapters of Marked by the enemy alpha: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

The chamber was colder than the rest of the archive. It didn’t feel like natural cold, the kind caused by stone and air untouched by sunlight. No—this chill was the kind that seeped into bone and memory, the kind that erased warmth not just from flesh but from thought. As Aria stepped through the threshold, it was as if the very idea of her name faltered in the still air. Kael followed her in silence. His eyes swept over the silver-lit walls, tracing the looping script engraved into the stone—ancient runes that shimmered like frost in moonlight. Elyra remained at the door, her hand pressed to the sigil that had opened it. “No one may enter once the rite begins,” she said solemnly. “This is your final moment to turn away.” Kael looked to Aria, jaw clenched. “We’re not here to turn back.” Elyra nodded once, then gently shut the door behind them. --- At the center of the chamber stood a single dais carved from moonstone, with a bowl nestled into its center. It pulsed faintly with

The wind carried whispers through the Crescent Moon stronghold that night. Not from any visible mouth or spoken voice, but from the old stone corridors, the cracked earth of the training fields, and the silence between breaths. It was as if the territory itself remembered her. Remembered Aria. She sat in the old Luna’s study—a chamber she’d been told once belonged to her mother, Althea. The walls were lined with tomes, scrolls, and relics of forgotten wars and won peace treaties. Dust danced in the slanting moonlight from the high windows. Aria’s fingers traced the surface of an old leather-bound journal. No title. No markings. Yet when she opened it, the scent of jasmine and old ink stirred something in her chest. A flicker of sorrow. A flicker of home. Kael watched her from the threshold, arms crossed, eyes cautious. She didn’t notice him at first. She was too wrapped in the contents of the journal—written in a handwriting unfamiliar, but beautiful. Swirling, fluid, gentle.

The dawn broke like a sigh, pale golden light washing across the Crescent Moon stronghold. But peace did not follow the light. Not this time. Aria stood on the eastern battlement, cloak billowing as the wind brushed past her, tugging at her hair like a ghost trying to whisper secrets in her ear. Below, the soldiers were already assembling, forming new defensive lines as ordered, strengthening patrol routes near the sacred border. Lena approached, a steaming cup of wolfleaf tea in her hands. “You didn’t sleep again.” “I couldn’t,” Aria said without turning. “The dreams are getting worse. More vivid.” Lena stood beside her in silence for a moment. “Kael said you saw Nyra through the Well of Knowing.” “She saw me too,” Aria murmured. “Like a reflection… but not quite mine. As if my shadow stepped away and learned how to speak.” Lena handed her the tea. “Prophecies are rarely straightforward. We always thought it meant two alphas… or two moons. But what if it meant two you?” Aria g

The Lake of Echoes stretched before them like a mirror to the heavens. Its surface shimmered with silver light, disturbed only by the occasional ripple as wind skimmed across the water. Trees ringed the shore—ancient, gnarled, and bowing inward like guardians bearing silent witness. Aria stood at the edge, her cloak billowing behind her. She inhaled deeply, the scent of dew, stone, and time itself filling her lungs. “We shouldn’t have come alone,” Kael muttered behind her. “You could have waited—brought the warriors.” “No,” Aria replied softly. “This place demands solitude. It was where I first heard her voice… and where I must face her.” Kael remained silent, his presence solid and warm behind her, but he didn’t argue further. The lake pulsed. Not with water. Not with life. With memory. Aria stepped forward, her boots pressing into the soft earth of the shore, and then, barefoot, she walked into the shallows. The water, strangely warm, curled around her ankles like liquid si

The celebration of the Hollow King's downfall echoed through the night, carried on the wind like the songs of ancient wolves long thought forgotten. But as the last echoes of triumph faded into the cold breath of morning, a heavier stillness settled over the Haven—one that came not from peace, but from the ominous unknown. Aria stood atop the high tower of the Hall of Stars, the twin moons reflected in her eyes. Below, the camp bustled with renewed energy—scouts preparing for dispatch, emissaries readying for missions, and Council members convening in hushed circles. The Haven was not resting in victory; it was bracing for what would come next. She felt Kael approach before she heard him. His presence was like gravity—calming and grounding in the whirlwind of duty and unrest. “You didn’t sleep,” he said softly. Aria shook her head. “Couldn’t. The moons are watching. It feels like they expect something more from us.” “They probably do,” Kael muttered. “We took down the Hollow King