All Chapters of Marked by Fire & Fang: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

LilyThe first scream came with the wind.Not a wolf’s howl. Not a human cry. Something… in between. A rippling screech that rattled my bones and made the flame under my skin flare bright and furious.They were here.I stood on the highest ridge overlooking the Greyhowl border, dressed in ceremonial black—thick leather and silver clasps, runes drawn in ash across my arms. My hair was tied back, but wild. My eyes burned gold.I wasn’t alone.Link stood beside me, tall and shadowed in his Alpha armor, his presence grounding me like a tether. Dax, Marcy, and the rest of the inner circle flanked us in a crescent formation, all in wolf form save Marcy, who wielded dual daggers glowing with charmwork.Below, the enemy emerged from the fog.Rows upon rows of rogues, twisted and feral. Witches cloaked in bone and veil. And things that weren’t quite either—creatures bent by dark blood magic, writhing and hunched like predators born in shadow.The earth groaned under their weight.“They're wait

LilyWe left before dawn.The Greyhowl Estate still bore the scars of battle—burned trees, cracked stone, blood-soaked soil—but I couldn’t stay. Not with what I’d seen. Not with the child growing inside me and a prophecy looming like a blade over my future.We flew north on Link’s private jet, skimming the clouds in silence. We didn’t speak much. There was too much between us, and more waiting ahead. At the airport, a black SUV waited. Bulletproof. Spell-warded. Dax drove while Marcy coordinated with pack allies via encrypted text chains and satellite-linked tablets.“This isn’t just ancient lore anymore,” I said as we crossed the border into rogue territory. “It’s active.”“I know,” Link said. His hand reached for mine across the console. “And we’ll be ready.”The GPS lost signal two hours before we reached our destination. Cell towers faded behind us. Our spells couldn’t penetrate the deep pull of the Old Wilds. No roads. No tech. Just instinct, the hum of ancient magic, and the wei

LilyBefore Iceland, we stopped in Oslo. The storm delayed our flight. Two days grounded.Two days alone.The suite was sleek, all glass and stone and Scandinavian minimalism. The snow outside painted the world white, but inside, the air ran hot with tension. Magic. Desire. Something I hadn’t let myself feel fully in weeks.Link watched me from the bar, his shirt half-unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled, drink untouched. My body buzzed from the way he looked at me—hungry, restrained, like he was holding back a goddamn war inside his chest.I crossed the room.“Say it,” I murmured.His jaw flexed. “You already know.”“Say it anyway.”“I fucking need you.”I shoved him against the wall.“I need you too.”And then we were fire.My mouth crashed to his. His hands tangled in my hair. He lifted me with a growl that shook the air between us and slammed me against the windows, my breath fogging the glass as his lips traveled down my neck.“You drive me crazy, Lily,” he rasped, yanking my sweater o

LilyThe Crimson Vale bowed, but not all bent willingly.Some eyes burned with defiance. Some loyalty ran too deep. Thorne may have yielded, but under the surface, I felt it—a fracture. A fault line waiting to split.Link felt it too.“We have days,” he said, pulling me close as we stood on the overlook of the Vale’s command tower, snow drifting silently around us. “Weeks, if we’re lucky.”“Before what?” I asked, though I already knew.“Before they try to take it back.”LinkWe needed allies. The kind that wouldn’t shift with the wind. Packs with bloodlines that hadn’t forgotten the old truths—or those brave enough to build something new.The Phoenix Pact wasn’t just strategy.It was survival.We summoned emissaries. Old rivals. Hidden Alphas. Even loners with reputations for violence and neutrality. We offered them a seat at the table. A promise. A future.Some came out of loyalty.Some came out of fear.But all came.They gathered in the old war hall of the Vale—a stone chamber carv

LinkWe barely made it back above ground before the first tremor cracked the courtyard.The warriors scrambled, barking orders and drawing weapons. But it was Lily I watched—the glow still pulsing under her skin, her hands trembling not with fear, but with fury.Her body was exhausted. Our child weighed heavy in her womb. And still she stood like a goddess ready for war.“You need rest,” I said, dragging her into our chamber and bolting the door.“We don’t have time—”“We make time,” I snapped. “Just this once. For us.”She stared at me, defiant.But then her lip quivered.And she nodded.I held her close as the earth rumbled, cradling her in the candlelight, kissing the sweat from her temple. Her fingers tangled in my shirt.“I’m scared,” she whispered. “Not of what’s coming. Of losing you.”“You won’t.” I tilted her chin. “Even if the world burns, I’ll find you in the ash.”Her lips met mine like a promise. A prayer. And then there were no more words.We undressed each other slowly.