All Chapters of Marked by the Alpha: Blood Oath: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

AlaricThe chamber still reeks of Kieran’s insolence.His voice echoes in my skull, all defiance and trembling weakness, daring to stand at my table and pretend his words carry weight. I should have struck him for it. I should have put him on his knees in front of the council and reminded him of his place.But no. My disappointment is greater than my rage, and disappointment curdles deeper. Rage burns hot and fast, disappointment rots slow, seeping into every crack.He thinks he can talk back to me. He thinks he can posture like a son who matters. The boy is nothing but wasted blood, a mirror cracked the moment it was forged. A son who flinches at words, who blushes at reprimand, who thinks sentiment is strength.Weakness. All of it.I pace the council chamber, fists curling at my sides. The contracts lie neatly in a stack where I left them, still damp with ink. Mercenaries waiting to be unleashed, alliances sealed with blood and gold. All ready to move at my command.But Kieran has t

EliThe cabin is steeped in Ronan. Smoke and leather, heat and steel, the bite of his scent so thick I could drink it. He’s the first thing I expect to see when I step inside, and he is there, tall, broad, impossibly desirable. But what steals my breath isn’t him.It’s the thing behind him.Not the Sunday-best kind. Not a church relic. This one is stained dark, bolted into the floor, arms stretched wide in a shape that whispers surrender. It looks like it grew straight out of the wood of this cabin, like it was always meant to wait for me.I freeze. My heart jumps against my ribs hard enough to bruise. “What the fuck is that?”“A gift,” Ronan says, voice low and rough velvet. “And a test.”I huff, my bravado catching in my chest. “That’s one way to say torture.”He steps closer, his shadow wrapping me whole, eyes burning like banked gold. “Not torture. Devotion.”His head tilts. Firelight turns his eyes molten. “You’ll be the one to tell me what it feels like.”My mouth works though m

RonanAt this hour the pack sleeps, their breath fogging cabins, their wolves curled in warmth against the creeping frost. Blackthorn rests. But I do not. I can’t.The map sprawled across my desk is worn soft at the edges, corners smudged with ink and sweat. I’ve traced the same borders over and over until they blur, as if I could redraw the world by sheer force. It doesn’t change. The names don’t move. The allegiances don’t shift no matter how hard I will them to.Hollowrock is our only ally left.Every other pack is drifting toward Silvercrest. Some have openly pledged their support to Alaric, promising warriors and supplies. Others take refuge in silence, feigning neutrality while sending their emissaries east. I already know where they’re going to end up. They won’t be rallying behind Blackthorn. With enough coin, Alaric buys their loyalty like cattle at a market. The man has no honor, but who cares about respect when gold and fear are easier currencies?My fist clenches around t

RonanEli is still trembling when I lift him into my arms. From everything he just poured into me, all the raw edges of his soul left bare between us. His eyes are swollen from crying, his throat scraped from begging, and yet when he looks at me now there’s only trust. That trust breaks me more than tears ever could.I carry him through the hall and into our cabin. The bed waits, furs rumpled from where he tossed earlier in restless sleep. I set him down, not like a fragile object, I’d never insult him like that, but as something precious, my palms consecrating every line of him as I go.He reaches for me, hands fisting in my shirt, dragging me down until our mouths meet. The kiss is soft at first, just the brush of lips, but then he opens under me and the world tilts. Salt from his tears mix with the taste of him, and I swear I’ll remember it forever.“I meant it,” he whispers against me. “Every word.”“I know.” My voice is thick, almost unrecognizable. “And I’ll prove the same to yo

EliThe hall is still humming with tension when I step in. Kieran’s words haven’t stopped echoing since he fell to his knees in front of Ronan, all earnest desperation and shredded pride. Silvercrest’s lost son, crawling into our den with blood still on his lips from the run here.Most of the pack doesn’t seem to know what to do with him. Some mutter about a trap. Others pity him. I see someone who escaped a hell he refused to live in any longer.Because I know what it’s like to live in a cage with no key. To learn early that survival means silence, and silence means swallowing the rot until it eats you alive. Kieran wasn’t on the receiving end of the punishments. He could have reveled in the cruelty and continued a legacy of abuse. Instead he’s trying to end it. That’s not betrayal. That’s a miracle.“You should help him,” I say, quietly enough that only Ronan can hear me. He dismisses everyone, growls at Mara to keep watch, and drags me out by the wrist.Now it’s just us in his s