All Chapters of Marked in the Middle: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

The council chamber was colder than usual. The marble walls gleamed with the reflection of the torches, but the warmth didn’t reach the air. It was the kind of cold that came from tension, not weather, a silence thick enough to strangle.Evelyn sat at the far end of the long obsidian table, her eyes fixed on the silver seal embedded into its surface, the sigil of the Crownless Throne. Her crown, the one forged from starlight and blood, sat beside her hand, untouched. The light from the fire made it glint softly, but tonight it felt heavier than iron.Kael stood behind her, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword, his posture deceptively calm. But she could feel the quiet storm inside him. The council had been restless ever since the storm over Viremont and the fall of Lord Theron’s stronghold. The alliance was fracturing, again.Lord Daren’s voice broke the silence. “We cannot ignore the smoke rising from the south. The Obsidian Reign is regrouping.”“They were shattered,” said La

The southern wind carried a bitter taste of ash and iron. By dawn, the Queen’s Riders were already on the march, their cloaks snapping in the cold gray light. The forests thinned as they rode, replaced by blackened stumps and hollow soil that whispered of old wars.Evelyn rode at the head of the column, Kael beside her. The map strapped to her saddle was half-burnt at the edges, a relic from before the Crownless War but it was the only one that marked the road ahead. The Cursed Road.The name fits.Every few miles, the ground cracked open like veins of glass. The air shimmered with faint traces of old magic, wild, and furious.“We’re being watched,” Kael said quietly, his hand resting on his sword.“I know.” Evelyn’s voice was steady, but her eyes swept the treeline. “She wants us to follow. Every step here is a lure.”Kael’s mouth twitched in a half-smile. “Then we’ll make her regret laying it.”The riders behind them tightened their ranks. Even the horses seemed restless.By mid-mor

Kael woke to silence.Not the kind that comes after battle, this was heavier, deeper, like the world itself was holding its breath. He sat up slowly, every muscle aching, his armor smeared with dried blood and ash. The Blood Marsh was gone.Or rather, it had changed.The red waters had turned to silver mist, the black soil hardened into pale stone. The once-suffocating fog now glowed faintly, carrying sparks of gold that drifted through the air like dust motes. The air smelled clean. Pure. Wrongly pure.Kael staggered to his feet, eyes scanning the empty expanse. “Evelyn?”No answer.Just the faint hum beneath his boots, steady, rhythmic, like a heartbeat pulsing through the earth.He reached for his sword, though he already knew a blade wouldn’t matter here. “Evelyn!” he shouted again, his voice echoing across the empty plain.For a long time, there was nothing. Then, faintly, a whisper.Kael.He froze. It wasn’t a voice carried by air, it was inside him.“Evelyn?”You shouldn’t have

The world was ash when Kael opened his eyes. Not the ash of fire, but the still gray dust of things unmade, stone turned to powder, magic stripped of breath. The air hummed faintly, as though it remembered being alive but had forgotten how to move. He lay there, staring up at a sky that was no longer sky at all but a glass dome veined with light. Cracks pulsed like veins through it, leaking motes of pale fire that drifted down and vanished before touching him. He tried to move. His body responded like it had been rebuilt out of someone else’s bones. Everything ached in the wrong order. The crown, his crown was gone. The moment his hand went to his head and found nothing but the roughness of dried blood, a sharp panic knifed through him. The ritual. The betrayal. The girl. Evelyn. He sat up, gasping, clutching the dirt. It was fine as sand, bleeding light between his fingers. Memory crashed back in broken flashes: Evelyn turning against him, the ritual collapsing, her scream spli

The morning came blood-red. The horizon was a wound, bleeding light through clouds that looked more like torn fabric than sky. The storm from the night before hadn’t passed it had twisted. The air was heavy with the scent of rain and something metallic, like the atmosphere itself was rusting. Nora stood outside the shelter, her eyes locked on the distant crater. She could still feel it, the pulse beneath the earth, faint but steady. Every few seconds, the shard in her pocket hummed in rhythm, as though something deep below was calling it home. Kael. He wasn’t gone. And she couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. The world’s splintering. Behind her, Lira groaned awake, muttering curses about stiff backs and nightmares. Grayson was already up, cleaning his blade with mechanical precision, his movements sharp and angry, the kind of anger that came from fear he wouldn’t admit. “You’ve been standing there since dawn,” he said without looking up. “I couldn’t sleep,” Nora replied