All Chapters of CHASING MONSTERS: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The hall spun around her, music fading into silence. Sophie had forgotten just how handsome the King was—more than handsome. He was carved like the stories of old, a god in wolf’s flesh, power radiating from every line of his body.And her body knew him.The bond slammed into her like a storm, her heart hammering, her blood burning. Every tale the wolves had told her about mates—the rush, the certainty, the rightness—it was true. This was not a gentle tide. It was a flood, fierce and absolute.Mate, her soul screamed.The world seemed to still, voices muffled as though she were underwater. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. The King was watching her too, his gaze locked on hers, the same shock—no, recognition—written across his face.Her uncle’s hand squeezed her arm gently. “Come, Sophie. Mingle.”Her eyes snapped to the side. Veronica was watching her, her painted lips curved into a brittle smile but her eyes were knives. A cold, venomous glare that promised blood. Sophie drew her

The garden smelled of roses and old stone, the night air thick with their perfume. Lanterns swung gently on the walls, casting gold pools of light over the gravel paths and hedges. The sound of music from the ballroom floated faintly on the breeze, muffled and distant, as if the world had shrunk to just the two of them.Sophie stood tall, her gown shimmering like frost caught in moonlight, but she felt anything but steady. Her heart beat hard enough to hurt, the mate bond roaring through her veins. Every story whispered about it, every rumor she’d heard, every secret hope she’d buried—here it was. Real. Terrifying. Irresistible.The King moved closer, but the space between them felt vast, heavy with everything unsaid. His eyes burned, molten gold, his wolf a living thing behind them.“You are my everything,” he said, voice low and rough with certainty. “Veronica has only ever been a placeholder. A comfort in the long years when I thought I would never have what was meant for me. But y

The ballroom had never felt so empty. The laughter, the music, the endless parade of polished masks—all hollow without her. Without Sophie.His mate.The King sat stiffly upon his throne, Veronica draped at his side like a jewel he no longer wished to wear. She smiled too brightly, chattered too much, every tilt of her head rehearsed, every touch on his arm designed for show. He let her play her part, because for years he had allowed it, but the truth roared inside him now.He had one week.One week to do what loyalty demanded—end it with dignity. He could not strip Veronica of her pride in public, nor cast her out like refuse after years of service. That would not be honorable. But it was finished. She had been a placeholder, and tonight the truth burned too fiercely to ignore.Sophie was his fated mate. And he would burn the world to claim her.When the last guests departed, Veronica turned her painted smile on him, her hand stroking the sleeve of his coat. “Come to bed with me, my

The healing wing was warmer than the rest of the castle, the air scented with dried lavender and mint, bundles of herbs hanging from rafters like talismans. Sophie stepped quietly across the threshold, her boots muffled against the reed mats.Betsy looked up first, surprise flashing in her soft round face. “My lady—are you unwell?”Sophie shook her head quickly. “No fever. No poison. No wolf-shift pains. Just… a visit.”The older healer, Maera, lifted her brows but waved Sophie toward the stool beside the fire. “Strange, for one to come without ailment. But sit, then. Speak.”For a moment Sophie tried to smile, but the weight in her chest cracked through her composure. “Do you have anything for a broken heart?”The women exchanged glances. Agatha, ever brisk, snorted softly. “Child, if there were, we’d all be dosing ourselves thrice daily.”But Maera’s hand came to rest on Sophie’s wrist. “Sometimes tears are the medicine. Sometimes talking is.”Sophie blinked rapidly, but her vision

Being moved from the King’s chambers was an insult beyond bearing. Years of loyalty. Years of beauty and devotion. Nights spent at his side, smiling while he ruled, whispering the right words to make him shine—dismissed with a single order.Her ladies hovered like frightened birds, trying to soothe her temper, their voices soft as feathers. But their trembling hands only stoked her rage. It sat hot in her chest, a furnace of humiliation and fury.When one girl dropped the silver-backed brush, it clattered across the marble with a sound like a slap. Veronica’s head snapped up.“You clumsy fool!” she hissed, scooping up the brush. Her arm moved before she thought about it. The sharp edge cracked across the girl’s cheek. A red welt bloomed instantly.The maid whimpered. “Forgive me, my lady—”“Get out,” Veronica snarled. “All of you. Out. Now!”They scattered, skirts rustling like panicked birds. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Veronica alone in fuming silence. She gripped the