All Chapters of His Mate, His Enemy: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

LUCIEN’S POVI did not remember drawing breath, yet my chest rose and fell like a war drum.Everything inside me was chaos.Darkness pressed against the edges of my mind, a living thing that was hungry and whispering death. It had teeth. It had claws. And it wore my face better than I did.Kill her.The command slithered through me.Kill her now.My fingers twitched at my sides, curling as though they already felt the hilt of my sword. My lips parted.“Execute her.”The words came out cold. Clean. Commanding.The guards moved instantly.Steel rang softly as blades were drawn. Boots struck marble in synchronized steps as they advanced from every direction, closing in around her.A perfect circle.And she didn’t move.Not even a flinch.My pulse stumbled.Run.Fight.Scream.Do something.But Saphra…She simply lowered herself further.Kneeling in the throne room.Slowly.“No…” The word formed somewhere deep inside me, but it never reached my lips.Saphra tilts her head back exposing h

LADY SERAPHINE'S POVNo one was moving.My nails bit into my palms as I stood at the foot of the throne, staring at the frozen circle of guards surrounding Saphra. Their blades were drawn, their bodies poised… but their feet might as well have been rooted into the marble.Useless.All of them.My gaze snapped to Lucien.His arm was raised, sword trembling above her throat, black veins crawling across his skin, the darkness that should have already ended this pathetic display.And still, he hesitated.Rage surged through me.“Why are you waiting?!” My voice cracked through the chamber, sharp as glass. “Finish it!”Nothing.The guards shifted, uncertain.Lucien’s arm shook harder.And Saphra, that wretched foolish girl she knelt there like she had already accepted death, whispering to him as though this were some lover’s meeting instead of an execution.I could feel my control slipping.“No…” I breathed, my pulse quickening.This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.He was supposed to brea

SAPHRA’S POVMy palm presses against his cheek, my other hand steady against the side of his neck, feeling the violent pulse of those black veins beneath his skin. They throb against me.His sword is still raised.Still trembling.His forehead nearly touches mine now, his breath uneven, harsh, breaking apart with every exhale. Sweat drips down his face, mixing with something else....Tears.My heart twists painfully.He’s crying. I have never seen him cry before.“Lucien…” I whisper, my voice trembling but steady enough to carry through the bond between us.His name feels like an anchor.I swallow hard, my chest tight with everything I haven’t said, everything I need to say now.Because if I don’t, I might lose him forever.“I know this isn’t your fault,” I begin softly.The words feel fragile, but they’re true.Every single one.His body jerks at the sound, a broken reaction, like something inside him recognizes the meaning even if the darkness tries to twist it.“I know you didn’t c

MARCUS’S POV Everything narrows to a single objective. Protect Saphra. Steel screams against steel as I drive forward, forcing my way through bodies that should have been allies. Guards.....my guards turn their blades on me, but I don’t hesitate. I can’t. Every second I waste is another step closer to Saphra bleeding out on the floor, another moment for those cloaked bastards to finish what they started. I see them. Three of them. “Move!” I roar, slamming my shoulder into one of the palace guards. He stumbles back, just enough for me to break through his line. My sword arcs without pause, instinct and training taking over. The first assassin turns toward me too late. His dagger is still wet. Poison glints along the edge. My vision goes red. I don’t think....I react. My blade cuts across his throat in one brutal, decisive stroke. There’s no finesse, no measured restraint. Just force. Just fury. Blood sprays across the marble as he drops, choking on a sound that never become

LADY SERAPHINE'S POVIt’s over.My assassins are dead.All three of them.I stare at their bodies scattered across the marble, useless and something inside me fractures in a way I cannot immediately contain.No.No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to end.They were precise. I placed them carefully, chose them for this exact moment, this exact purpose.And yet they failed.Worse than that, I have been exposed.My breath comes faster, sharper, as realisation claws its way up my spine.Everyone saw.Marcus saw.The guards saw.Even the servants, those weak, sentimental fools saw.There is no denying it now.No twisting of truth.No manipulation left to hide behind.The room feels smaller suddenly, suffocating, closing in as the weight of their awareness presses against me.I lift my gaze and I meet their eyes.No obedience.No fear.Their eyes are filled with judgment, accusation and betrayal.For a heartbeat, I freeze then instinct takes over. I step back slowly at first then faster.I