All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Marked Mate: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

The echo of Kael’s retreat lingering like smoke that refused to clear. The scent of blood clung to the marble pillars and seeped into the silken carpets. Wolves stood frozen, half-kneeling, half-staring, caught between awe and fear at the silver blaze that had just consumed the hall. But Zaria didn’t see them. Her silver eyes were fading now, burning back into human clarity, but her chest heaved, her throat raw from the scream she hadn’t realized she’d let out. And before her—Lucien staggered. Blood. Too much blood. It soaked through the white of his shirt, blooming crimson. His hand pressed against his side, but she could see the way it slipped, wet and glistening between his fingers. Lucien Wolfe, Alpha of Alphas, the empire king who commanded boardrooms and battlefields alike, was bleeding in front of everyone. And he dared not falter. Lucien straightened, shoulders squared, head high, the molten storm of his eyes refusing to dim. He did not clutch at the wound as a mor

The city breathed beneath Wolfe Tower like a living organism, glittering veins of light stretching endlessly toward the horizon. In the penthouse, the air was charged with anticipation, the subtle scent of ozone and silver fire mingling with the faint trace of blood and candle wax. Lucien stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, his silhouette carved against the skyline, every inch the Alpha billionaire wolf, poised on the cusp of conquest that spanned more than teeth and claws—it stretched into finance, politics, and power older than the city itself. Silas leaned near the door, shoulder brushing the frame, arms crossed, expression unyielding. Rowan’s sharp eyes scanned the skyline, calculating threats both mundane and supernatural. Mara fussed quietly with the penthouse’s security wards, hands glowing faintly as sigils hummed under her fingers. Nadia Clarke moved like liquid shadow, checking cameras, grids, and alarms, ensuring the fortress that Wolfe Tower had become remained imp

The city lights stretched below Wolfe Tower, a sparkling grid of civilization that felt both distant and fragile from the tower’s height. Inside, the penthouse suite was quiet, yet tension pulsed through the air, thick and almost tangible. Zaria stood at the edge of the balcony, the wind tugging at her hair, her silver eyes catching the neon glow of the streets below. The wolf was still coiled inside her, simmering, restless, impatient for the confrontation she knew was coming. Lucien entered without a sound, footsteps measured, eyes dark with unspoken fury and an obsession that had only deepened since the blood feud. Silas, Rowan, Mara, and Nadia Clarke lingered behind them, subtly positioned as both protection and witnesses, their presence a reminder that Zaria was never alone, even in her private battles. “You can’t guard me forever,” Zaria said, her voice cutting the wind like steel, trembling not from fear but from the raw intensity of what she felt. Every word vibrated with de

The note burned in Zaria’s hand, searing with intent as the music swelled around her. One word—Tonight—was all it had taken for her instincts to flare, for Caelus to coil like a storm beneath her skin, every muscle, every sinew attuned to the danger that the masked crowd had so carefully concealed. At first glance, the Silk Ball had been a glittering façade: chandeliers dripping diamonds of reflected light, wine poured into crystal glasses, wolves, witches, vampires, humans of power all swaying in rhythm to the orchestra. But beneath the elegance, under the masks and polite smiles, the tension had become palpable, an invisible wire straining across the hall.Lucien’s grip on her hand tightened, fingers curling possessively, as his eyes swept across the room with the precision of an Alpha who had spent lifetimes tracking prey. He didn’t speak—words were unnecessary. His presence alone anchored her, tethered her to the moment while warning pulses ran through the pack: Silas at her left,

The evening air over the Wolfe’s Vane Estate shimmered with latent power, carrying scents of herbs, sulfur, and faint ozone that spoke of recent hexwork. The city below lay oblivious, twinkling in neon luxury, while inside the glass-and-marble fortress, preparations for the next stage of the conflict had begun. Wolves prowled quietly, checking wards, adjusting sigils, weapons gleaming faintly in the reflected chandeliers. Silas moved among them, his presence precise and unflinching; Rowan practiced silent guard rotations; Mara’s gaze measured each spell’s placement; Nadia Clarke traced her hands over the stones, checking for even the faintest fissures in their magical fortifications. The pack was the heartbeat of Wolfe Tower, unspoken but indispensable, and tonight, the rhythm of survival pulsed faster than ever.Zaria followed Lucien through the echoing halls toward the penthouse atrium. She could feel the residual tremors of Caelus lingering from their last confrontation, a fire ben