All Chapters of Marked by the Alpha: Blood Oath: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

EliWhen I wake up, the cabin smells like woodsmoke, thick leather, and the heavy, metallic tang of cum and sweat. I’m sore in ways that feel instructional. Like my body’s been taught a new language overnight. My inner thighs ache and there are bruise-kisses marking my throat and hips. Ronan’s already up, half dressed, the line of his back a lesson in self-control. He’s making coffee. The man bleeds restraint before breakfast and I can’t be having that.“Alpha,” I croak, voice rough. “You’re supposed to be basking in the afterglow of your terrifying virility, not sorting logistics.”He glances over his shoulder, that single raised brow promising trouble. “You’re supposed to be resting.”“Rest is boring,” I mutter, stretching until the marks on my ribs protest. “And so are you.”He sets the mug down, slow enough to make my pulse tick faster. “Try again.”“What, you’d prefer magnificent?”Ronan crosses the room. The air changes temperature halfway through the distance, as it always d

EliI wake up languidly, the world coming back to me in tiny, contented increments.Light drips through the shutters in thin gold stripes, warm enough to touch, soft enough not to hurt. The fire has gone to embers. The air smells like us and my skin is still marked by what we did to each other.Ronan is already half awake. I can feel him behind me, the solid weight of him, his arm slung over my waist like a bar he forged there himself. He breathes deep and even, nose pressed into my neck, stubble scraping the faint marks he left the night before.It’s a quiet that feels earned. No noise from the pack, no messages, no war to plan. Just the small sounds of home. The tick of wood settling, the whisper of his breath, my own heartbeat learning how to slow down and believe that I actually have a home. Not the timber cottage, or even the Blackthorn pack. I love both and would miss them if I were to lose them, but home is the grumpy bastard holding me. The one who bit me without permission a

EliEvery muscle in my body feels like it’s been individually introduced to pleasure and then sent home with a souvenir bruise.I stretch in the bed and the noise that escapes me is halfway between a groan and a purr. The only thing that’s not perfect is the fact that Ronan’s side of the bed is empty, but warm. Typical Alpha. Up before dawn to check patrol rotations, which I’ve started to refer to as brood attractively in the early light while pretending not to worry about everyone.I roll over and bite the pillow just to hear the muffled echo of laughter against the fabric, and then decide the world deserves to witness my good mood.If I’m this happy, it’s criminal that the rest of the pack isn’t. I’ll get out there and spread a little joy. Without Ronan here to keep me company, slash distract me, I may as well go and have breakfast in the mess hall. No point in cooking and dirtying dishes just for myself. Inside the long hall, breakfast is in full swing. Mara’s at the head of the

HazelWhen the rain starts sluicing down and it’s immediately obvious that the bridge will be flooded and impassable, I’ve already decided I’m going to kill Eli.Not quickly. Slowly. With paperwork. Because if there’s one thing that little fucker can’t stand, it’s tedium. Rain sheets across the ridge, swallowing the road behind us like a greedy beast. The old watchtower looms ahead, gray stone half-crumbled, its door hanging by one hinge. The ruinous isolation is not why I’m afraid to run in there. The being trapped with Jace in a confined space, all by ourselves, is a much more daunting prospect.Jace’s voice cuts through the downpour. “Get inside. Now.”He doesn’t shout. Authority just lives in his tone, heavy, absolute and unquestionable. I shoulder past him out of sheer spite, dripping water everywhere, and drop my pack with a rebellious thud. None of this is actually his fault, but somebody has to bear witness to how fucking pissed off I am.“Wonderful,” I mutter. “Trapped. Cold

JaceThe cold seeps into me from below. An unforgiving contrast to the furnace that burned between us before we were too tired to keep going and passed out in each others arms. It's not the biting cold of the storm anymore, but the deep, damp chill of the ancient stone radiating up through the thin blanket. My muscles are tight, humming with the thick, glorious ache of the aftermath.I open my eyes and the sight that meets me makes the breath still in my lungs. Hazel lies next to me, her body curled into mine, her skin catching the light of the dying fire. She’s perfectly exposed, and the sight of her drives a heavy, thick ache of possession through my groin. I prop my head up on an elbow, breathing deep, savoring the musk of sweat, sex, and rain that still clings to her. Even in slumber, I felt the victory, but now it burns with the heat of a thousand suns. The relentless wolf I unleashed has done its work. The General is back in charge for now, but the wolf’s satisfaction is abso