All Chapters of Marked by the Lycan Prince: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

DARIANThe cabin door slams behind me, and for a moment, the night air cuts through my chest sharper than any blade.I don’t go far. Just a few steps off the porch, where the cold settles into my bones and the silence presses in from all sides. Trees loom tall and black around the clearing, and the stars hang overhead like distant, untouchable gods.She hates me.And worse, she has every reason to.I drag a hand over my face, letting out a slow, steadying breath. My jaw aches from how tight I’ve been clenching it. My hands? Still trembling, even now.Her voice, shouting, cracking, breaking, is still echoing in my head.“I’m dying and you think that’s the most appropriate time to touch me like that?”I should have never reached for her. I was just trying to calm her down, to steady her. But that was a wrong move at the time. Heck, I should have held her hands or her shoulders. I slap my palm against my forehead. And the slap? I deserved it. Every ounce of it.Behind me, the faint sou

ZEUSThe moment I step into the Haven, I already know he’s waiting.The rain has soaked me through. My hair clings to my forehead. My boots leave a trail of dirty water on the marble floors, and my clothes reek of frustration and blood and bad decisions.I don’t even get past the damn foyer.“Another mess, Zeus?” comes the voice I’ve been preparing myself for since the moment Crimson Ridge went sideways.I close my eyes. Just for a second. I turn slowly toward the base of the stairs.My father stands tall, arms crossed, face carved in that eternal mask of calm disappointment. The firelight gilds his features like he’s some kind of statue in a temple built to himself.He doesn’t wait for an answer.“No report. No heads-up. Nothing. I had to hear about it from a Gamma with half his jaw broken.”I keep my voice flat. “I handled it.”“You didn’t handle anything. The Crimson Ridge Alpha had to be restrained by his own mate, and you,” he steps forward, voice growing louder, “you gave the Be

DARIANI step fully into the living room, eyes scanning the cold space where my father waits with a stoic expression like he was carved in stone. The scent of burning wood still lingers like I remember it, but there’s no warmth here, only a quiet expectation.Father doesn’t rise. His gaze pins me where I stand, like a wolf marking its territory. “Darian.” His voice is low, clipped, deliberate. “You’re back.”“Yeah,” I say, swallowing the tension tight in my throat. “Back.”He waves a hand, dismissive. “Good. But don’t mistake this for a welcome home. This is strictly business.”“Isn’t that all I’ve ever been to you, father?” I ask with a humorless laugh. “You were my son, soon to be Lycan king, but you threw it away for some human girl?” He lifts his brow, tauntingly. “Well then, if this is business, what do I stand to gain from it?” I step forward, really hoping I can negotiate for Iris’ life, but his harsh laugh stops me in my tracks. “You’ve really got some nerves thinking you

ADIRAThe halls of the Lycan Haven are too quiet tonight. The kind of silence that wraps itself around your throat and squeezes slowly. Every step I take echoes like a drumbeat, but I keep walking, clutching the hem of my sleeve so I don’t scream.Darian shoved me.That image keeps playing in my head on a violent loop. The way his face twisted in disgust. The way he turned his back like I was nothing. Like I never mattered.I knock once before pushing open my father’s door.He looks up from the desk, eyes shadowed with age and wariness pinning against mine. He doesn’t greet me, never does. My father isn’t the affectionate type. But there’s something in the way he looks at me tonight… a flicker of unease.“Adira,” he says slowly. “What’s wrong?”I don’t answer right away. I walk to the fireplace, staring into the low-burning embers. My throat feels tight, but I refuse to show weakness. Not now. Not to him.“He pushed me,” I finally say, voice like cracked glass.“Who?”“Darian.”A long

ADIRAThe long oak table is set with the kind of precision that only the Lycan King’s household can command. Silverware gleams under the dim amber light of flickering chandeliers, casting shadows that dance on the faces gathered around the room. The air is thick with unspoken grudges and ambition, a cocktail I’ve learned to sip carefully. Tonight, it tastes bitter, and ripe for a challenge.I sit between Zeus and the King, my fingers lightly tracing the rim of my wine glass, the crimson liquid swirling with slow, deliberate movements. My heart pounds, but my expression stays smooth, controlled. I’m not a girl who cowers beneath royal scrutiny.The King’s eyes narrow as he studies me. His presence is like a mountain, immovable, cold, and unyielding. “Zeus,” he begins, his voice gravelly, the tone sharp like a blade, “It’s only been two days since Darian returned, and already there are shifts in the pack… changes that you, my son, could not accomplish in all your years.”Zeus leans for