Todos os capítulos de Marked by the Lycan Prince: Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

IRISI don’t know how long I’ve been standing on that road, staring at the horizon where the sun is bleeding into dusk. My heart feels hollow, like I lost something already and I keep expecting it to ache even more. The hush of trees, the distant hum of wind.I’m wrapped in silence, and I don’t want to move.Then I feel someone beside me. My grandmother. She appears quietly, as if she doesn’t want to startle the moment.“Nana,” I whisper, turning to her.She doesn’t speak. Just places a hand on my shoulder. Warm. Heavy with sympathy.“You love him,” Grandma says after a breath. Soft.I blink. My heart pinches. “I don’t know if I…” I stop. A tear slides down.Because why is he doing this? Risking everything? Putting himself in front of danger for me? What’s waiting for him if this ends badly?I swallow hard. My eyes sting. “Why would he do so much if it’s only going to kill him in the end?”Grandma sighs, gentle and sad. She doesn’t try to argue. She just lets me stand there a moment m

DARIANI step through the gates of the Haven, the heavy doors closing behind me with a dull thud. The courtyard is silent except for distant guards shifting. I taste something bitter in the air, anticipation and dread.As I round the corner to the living area, I slow. The doors are open. Everybody is there, Zeus, Adrian, Kelvin, ADIRA and her father, and of course, the Lycan king. They stand rigid, watching. And at the far end, my father sits in a high-backed chair, his back turned to me as though guarding some secret.I pause, my heart thundering. My mind races: did Zeus betray me? Did word get out? Did they send spies? A flash of anger snakes through me.I mean, I wouldn’t expect anything less from Zeus. I’m pretty sure he let me in on their plan to kill Iris not out of the goodness of his heart, but definitely because he has something to gain from it. I take a measured breath and walk forward. I don’t allow my face to betray anything.All heads turn. Silence contracts like a held

DARIANI steel myself to the damp chill of the dungeon, the stones cold beneath my knees. The chains bite into my wrists, every breath echoing hollow around me. The torchlight casts long, wavering shadows, and with each passing second, I wonder how much lower my father would stoop to get rid of Iris. Their footsteps announce their arrival. The heavy steel doors groan open, and in stride my father, Zeus flanking him, soldiers trailing behind like an ominous gale. Their footfalls ring in the corridor, turning the silence to tension. My veins pulse.Father stops a few feet from me. He spreads his arms wide, dominion in posture. “Darian,” he says, voice cold and resonant. “I ask you now. Give me the location, that’s all. Where is Iris?”The guards shift, rods and chains clinking in their hands. Zeus stands still, expression tight.I lift my chin. “I told you already, I don’t know.”Father’s eyes narrow. “You lie. You always lie.”I snort, voice hoarse. “Even if I did know, why would I t

IRISThe morning comes too fast.I roll over, groggy and unready, the cold edge of dawn slicing through my bedroom blinds. I lie there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, hoping maybe I’d dreamed everything from the porch, the silence, the promise of training, the weight of a war I didn’t choose.But reality sits heavy in my chest, right where sleep used to be.I throw off the covers and dress slowly. Black leggings, a fitted long-sleeve top, and sneakers. Something practical. Something I can move in. I pull my hair into a loose tie and glance at the phone on my nightstand.Still nothing from Darian.A hollow pang hits me again, same as yesterday. I tuck the phone into my drawer and shut it. Out of sight. Out of reach.On my way out, Nana offers me a cup of coffee with a smile, and I take it from her. I needed it. “Did you sleep well?” She asks, tucking errant strands of hair behind my ear. I take a swig from my coffee before shaking my head ‘no’ in response. “Well, let’s hope the

DARIANThe night air is sharper outside the compound.Cold, damp, biting. Each breath claws at my lungs, each step jarring pain through my ribs. My shirt is damp with blood, some dried, some fresh. The bandages are a memory. My back stings like fire’s been stitched into my skin.But I keep moving. No stopping, not yet.The last guard went down easier than expected, too easy. A punch, a twist, a door left ajar like someone forgot how keys work. No alarms or shouts. Just a clean slip out of the dark.Suspicious. Sloppy.Too perfect. But I didn’t ask questions then. I took the shot. I ran.My car is parked miles back, deep in the lot behind the lower barracks. No way I’m touching it. The second I power it on, they’ll have a tracer pinged. Every royal vehicle has one. That’s the first thing they drill into you.So I run. On foot. Through brush, through trees, through mud and uneven ground. Every root threatens to trip me. My back screams and my legs cramp, but I don’t stop.I don't k