All Chapters of Maeve: Marked By Blood, Chosen By Fate.: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Carson. I didn’t knock. I wasn’t in the mood to pretend this was normal. I opened the door and stepped inside, expecting silence—maybe sleep. What I got instead was her standing by the window, her back to me, bathed in a pale column of moonlight like she’d been conjured there. Still. Barefoot. Wrapped in a thin black robe that barely brushed her knees. She didn’t turn. “I heard your guards shoved you.” A second passed. “I told them not to,” I added, softer this time. “Next time,” she said, her voice level, “don’t send boys to do a job you care about.” I blinked. That was... unexpected. “I didn’t come here to fight.” “Then why are you here?” she asked, finally turning her head, just enough for me to catch her profile. Her eyes didn’t meet mine. They were distant, unreadable. Dangerous. I stepped farther into the room, the air pulling tight like a wire between us. “You whispered something last night.” She didn’t react. “You said my name. You said... sav

Maeve.I waited until the halls emptied—until the cooks retreated, the guards changed shifts, and the wolves tucked into their beds, lulled by false peace.Then I moved.The door to the healer’s hut groaned like it was warning me away. I ignored it.Dust floated in the slivers of moonlight that slipped between the blinds. Shelves lined the walls, packed tight with vials, herb bundles, and handwritten labels that curled at the corners like they were tired of keeping secrets.I’d been here before. Once. But not like this.This time, I wasn’t looking for herbs.I was looking for proof.I moved shelf to shelf, fingers brushing glass and parchment.Bitterroot. Silverroot. Ghost thistle.Sleepberry. Burnt sage. Bone salt.Most were standard. Harmless, in the right hands.But some? Some were only used for wolves who needed to be silenced.I paused at a jar of Wormroot—crushed, sealed tight with a wax-stamped lid.“Why is this even here?” I whispered.It was rare. Risky. Known to rot the bond

Carson.The moonlight slid across the floor in long, silver lines, quiet and cold. I stood at the open window, shirt unbuttoned, ribs throbbing like I’d been trampled by a rogue stampede. My knuckles were split. Again. The training grounds had taken a beating, and I’d nearly ripped the head off one of my own warriors.I was losing it.Not just the temper. The edge. The control.My wolf was louder now—angrier. He wanted out. He wanted blood, territory, her.Maeve.I heard her before I smelled her. Soft footfalls, light but confident, crossing the stone hall like she owned it. She didn’t bother knocking. Just pushed the door open like she had every right to be here.“You look like shit,” she said.I didn’t turn around. “Good evening to you too.”She stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind her. Her scent hit a second later—herbs, firewood, and something untamed that didn’t belong to anyone. Every time she got close, something in me stirred like it recognized her. Like it didn’t car

Johan.The wind howled across the cliffs like a warning.Johan didn’t move.He stood at the edge of the ridge, overlooking the valley below where the Blue Moon Pack kept running like nothing had changed. Like she hadn’t ripped the earth out from under him and vanished without a trace.The bond pulsed. Faint, stubborn, sickeningly alive.He’d tried everything to sever it—rituals, spells, even rejection.But it hadn’t snapped.And that meant only one thing.“She’s not dead,” he muttered to himself, jaw tight. “She’s hiding.”His wolf stirred violently beneath the surface, pacing in circles, furious and hungry. It hadn’t settled since she left. Since the bond twisted into something hot and broken and impossible to escape.He still felt her.When he slept, he dreamed of her voice. When he trained, it was her scent he imagined in the wind. And when the moon rose—he burned.> If she was dead, this ache would be gone.But it wasn’t. It clawed at his lungs. Tightened around his heart like a n

Maeve.I didn’t run at first.Running would mean turning my back.The trees were still. The mist hung heavy, curling around my ankles. Every breath felt loud. Too loud.The bond throbbed hard in my chest. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t welcome.It was a warning.I took one slow step back, eyes scanning every shadow. My fingers tightened on the dagger.Something moved between the trees.Not a full shape. Just a flash — pale hair, dark clothes — gone in an instant. My pulse spiked.“Show yourself,” I said, but my voice didn’t sound steady.Silence answered me.Then a low growl rolled through the air. Not wolf. Not fully human. Somewhere in between.My wolf wanted to shift. My body wanted to fight. My mind wanted to get the hell out.I chose the last one.I moved fast, backing toward the trail that led back to White Moon grounds. Every step felt like the shadows closed in tighter.A stick cracked to my right. I whipped toward the sound — nothing. When I turned back, I could’ve sworn someone w