All Chapters of Marked and forsaken : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

“Mummy!” It even speaks. It’s even with Mia. A breathless chuckle escapes me. It’s crazy. I’m clearly going mad. Tension hums between us. They’re all staring the same direction—and I, for one, start to wonder if they’re seeing what I’m seeing. “Mummy!” The voice again—soft, trembling, slicing through me. Then Elka straightens, her eyes bright. A perfect sign. It’s real. I bolt up, half from exhaustion, half from desperate hope—and Elarion leaps into my arms. “Did I make you worry, Mummy?” I can’t fall for that question twice. I pass him gently to Elka, needing a moment—to be sure I’m really seeing Varyn. Like the same one? The one who marked and forsook me? Got me pregnant and abandoned me? Mia collapses to the ground before me, pleading. “I’m sorry, my lady.” I ignore her. I stretch my hand back. Nyvrae understands instantly—she presses a sword into my palm. In a heartbeat, it’s erect at Varyn’s throat. I see myself losing my son. He erupts—anger, fear, all tangled. And th

🤨Yes, yes, what is it? Tell me,” he says, curiosity growing. Then I grin. “You know what, my elder? I teased you. Bye— I need to go see my son .” He chuckles. “You always move on from crying too easily.” I laugh and dance away. “See you later, my elder,” I call, my voice reaching him from afar. Elarion turns to see me—then pointedly ignores me. I guess he doesn’t know the great Alpha just activated the child in me. So I ignore him too, even throwing him a playful glare. He chuckles, then yells, “Mummy!” I ignore him even more, which only doubles his frustration. Then I whirl around, scoop him up, and give him a high happy toss. When I set him down, I say softly, “Mummy is sorry.” He folds his hands. “No hugs for you.” “Please, Light, Mummy is very sorry.” He squints at me, lips twitching. “I’ll forgive you this once—because Grandpa said something to me.” “Light!” I gasp. “Isn’t forgiveness a big word? Were you that angry with me?” “Of course I was.”

“🌱I think you should ask him,” I say, though my voice feels like it’s trespassing on something sacred. Rauth exhales, rough and uneasy. “No,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You think he’s waited all these years just to tell me?” His tone dips lower, edged with the growl of a wolf restraining itself. “He wants me to take it as a warning—a deadly one. He wants me to find it myself.” I follow his gaze toward the Alpha. The sunlight catches the man’s silver hair, turning it almost spectral. “You’re right,” I whisper. “The few times I’ve spoken with him, it always felt like he was holding something back… something heavy.” “Exactly,” Rauth spits, though his voice trembles at the edges. “That’s what I’m talking about.” And then it strikes me—his words, the Alpha’s words, threading together like fate drawing breath between us. “Yes,” I murmur. “He told me something that day—when I thanked him for accepting the outcast pack, the howlers, and now my tribe. He said he carried fear i

“Remember when I told you my Aunty Caelora hoped for a girl while carrying Caelorn, because my mother had me—a boy?” I nod. “Yes, I remember.” He lets a faint smile touch his lips. “But she gave birth to a boy, and the Great Alpha named him Caelorn—teasing her.” His gaze sharpens, glinting with amusement. “Later, she bore a girl and named her Caelora. A name to stake her own pride, her own triumph.” “Yes… yes,” I murmur, quiet following the cadence of his words. “So, where are you headed?” I press, urgency lacing my voice. I need to understand why Caelora is suddenly a reason I can follow him. He leans closer, tone low, deliberate. “You remember I told you, on my mother’s side, the females hold the real standard. The heirs to the true hierarchy, the legacy itself.” I blink, catching the weight behind his words. “So Caelora,” he continues, voice threaded with reverence, “she is that last girl who holds the lifeline.” Impatience flares in me, claws at my tongue. “You still haven

⛓️‍💥🍃A beat passes— I stand frozen, the claw already slicing toward Caelora. She braces for impact, head bowed, body tensed to take the blow. I surge forward— —but Rauth is faster. He leaps, both legs driving into the mountain lion’s chest with crushing force. The beast barely hits the ground before it’s twisting back, a roar tearing through the air. I rush in, dragging Caelora out of reach. My pulse is thunder. Behind me, Rauth’s wolf comes alive—no hesitation, no mercy. I’ve never seen him like this. His protector’s rage burns through his eyes, gold and wild, a storm given flesh. But even he is losing ground. The mountain lion’s strength is brutal, ancient. “Hide!” I shout at Caelora, shoving her behind the rocks. I turn back to Rauth, throwing myself into the chaos. The forest erupts—fangs, claws, and roars clashing in a fevered storm. Nyvrae grapples with a jaguar twice her size. Thyra moves like wildfire beside her. Lucan is caught between two black panthers,