All Chapters of Rejected By The Alpha King, Claimed By The Lycan King: Chapter 211 - Chapter 220

Scarlet’s POVThe silk rope burned against my gloves as I slid down the sheer marble wall.The drop was terrifyingly silent. Below us, the courtyard shadows stretched long and thin under the pale glow of the hanging lamps. I kept my boots pressed flat against the cold stone blocks, kicking lightly away from the buttress, counting each heartbeat until my heels sank into the damp grass of the lower terrace.A second later, Joel dropped beside me.He landed heavily on his right knee, his breath hitching in his throat as his left shoulder took the jar. His face was gray with agony, sweat dripping from his chin onto the lawn, but he didn't make a sound. He rolled onto his feet, drew his curved silver dagger, and motioned toward the rose hedge."Four minutes," he breathed, barely a whisper. "Move."We stayed low, crawling through the thick carpet of white briars. The thorns tore at the sleeves of my dark tunic, catching my hair, but the roses here didn't smell like wild briars; they smelled

Scarlet’s POVDamien didn't let go of me for a long time. His face stayed buried in the curve of my neck, his rough beard scratching my skin, his chest heaving as if he had just run through fire to drag me back from the grave. And maybe he had. The cold dirt under my knees smelled of pine needles and damp earth, clean and mortal, without a trace of Theandor’s honey-scented rot."You're shaking," Damien rasped against my ear."I'm fine," I said, though my teeth were chattering so hard they clicked. "Just get me on a horse, Damien. I need to see them.""They're safe," he murmured, his hands sliding down to cup my waist, helping me stand on legs that felt like hollow reeds. "I left forty warriors on the third floor. Sasha hasn't slept an inch. The doors don't open until my hand turns the latch."Behind us, boots crunched on the gravel.The vanguard captain and two scouts were lifting Joel onto the wooden wagon that had brought our extra spears south. Joel’s head rolled back against the r

Scarlet’s POVThe silence in the infirmary was so thick it felt like being drowned in cold mud.Outside the heavy door, I could hear the faint, steady scrape of Damien’s leather boots pacing the hall stones. He was there, waiting, counting every second of the ten minutes he had granted.I looked down at Joel’s hand.His fingers trembled, hovering an inch from the rough gray wool of my skirt, stained with fresh red blood from his opened palm. The scars from Estalange, the bruises from the sand, the hollow lines carved into his face—he had paid for every single one of them trying to keep me and my babies alive."Joel," I whispered, dropping slowly onto the edge of the wooden cot.My thighs screamed from the movement, but I ignored the pain. I reached out and took his bloody, shaking hand into both of mine. His skin was burning with fever, his pulse kicking frantically against his wrist like a trapped bird."Look at me," I said softly.He lifted his head, his dark eyes rimmed with red, s

Scarlet’s POVThe warm air in our bedchamber died instantly.Damien stood up from the furs like a coiled spring released all at once. The soft tenderness in his eyes turned into jagged flint. He grabbed his linen shirt from the floor, pulling it over his head, and reached down for his broadsword in one smooth motion. The steel hissed out of the leather sheath, catching the orange firelight."Cover yourself," Damien barked, not looking back as he kicked the heavy bedroom door wide open.Sasha tumbled backward onto the corridor stones, clutching her apron, her face white as chalk. Down the hall, the four guards outside the nursery already had their spears raised, their bodies tense, smelling the panic on the wind."Speak," Damien ordered, stepping out into the torchlight, his broad frame towering over the girl. "Every word. Clear.""The guard at the courtyard arch found the stable door smashed," Sasha sobbed, her teeth chattering so hard her words slurred. "Two sentries were lying in th

Scarlet’s POVThe heavy iron portcullis groaned down into place, its teeth biting deep into the frost-hardened earth.From the high tower window of our bedchamber, I watched fifty dark riders gallop out of the gates. Damien rode at the point of the wedge on his massive black stallion, his fur cloak billowing like wings in the cold night air. The hounds ran ahead, low to the ground, baying with deep, hollow barks as they caught the sharp scent of elven blood and fear.The eastern sky was black as pitch, bruised with an unnatural purple haze near the horizon.The Black Mire.It was a wasteland of sunken bogs, dead cypress trees, and sulfur vents that lay like a poisoned scar between the Blood Moon territory and the witch kingdom of Estalange. No sane man rode into it at night. The mud could swallow a warhorse whole, and the mist was thick with creeping rot that dulled a wolf’s nose until he couldn't smell his own paws.Why, Joel?I pressed my forehead against the cold glass. The ache in