All Chapters of Mated to My Enemy: Tamed by the Tyrant Prince: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

152KaelThe world stopped being about packs or wars or ancient bloodlines the moment Drew’s light hit the apex. I watched the man who had been my steady hand, my best friend, someone who we had found in the grey husk of a burned building, someone who had shown so much promise and fought with the spirit of a thousand men, turn into a gray, featureless husk. He didn’t even have a face anymore, just a shell of dried parchment that the wind would eventually scatter.As I stared at him, it reminded me of the fact that the universe had a cruel sense of humour. After we had taken him from the debris of his house burn, he had woken up in the middle of the night, bellowing with sweat dripping down his face and his heart racing like a horse with the same nightmare. He was always afraid he would end up like his family and now? He looked almost as charred and unrecognisable as his family. She killed him, she did this to him. Staring at home made this beat of anger start in the bottom of my stoma

DariusThe darkness wasn't like a cave or a moonless night. It wasn't like I was placing my head in a hole or covering it with a blanket, it was an absolute, heavy thing. It felt like he weights that was pressing against me, sandwiching me to a wall. It was a void that didn't just surround me, but seemed to be waiting for me to dissolve into it. There was no wind, no sound of the battle, and no heat from the blast that had just torn through my spine.There were no dead people scattered across the field, no smell of death lingering in the air like it had been in the field. There was nothingness. I didn’t even hear the sound of my heart beating, or the breath from my lips. All I heard was the stillness and the awkward feeling of the world coming to an end. But in the awkwardness that reigned supreme, there was a heartbeat of something that tasted familiar.Like that one song that streamed out of a jukebox and but you didn’t just know the first place you heard it from or what it reminded

DariusThe silence that followed the collapse of the dome was more deafening than the screaming of the souls. I stood in the centre of the clearing, my lungs burning as if I had inhaled shattered glass. My chest heaved, each breath a jagged struggle against the fading adrenaline that had turned my blood into liquid gold. The heat was receding, leaving me hollow and cold, the primal connection with my wolf settling into a low, exhausted hum at the back of my mind.I scanned the field. It looked like a graveyard of the living. All around us, the ribbons of light were sinking back into the husks of our people. Limbs twitched. Lungs gasped for air. We had won.I let out a ragged exhale, a victory sob threatening to tear through my throat. "Kael," I croaked, my voice sounding like it had been dragged over miles of gravel. "Kael, we did it."I turned, expecting to see him standing tall, his eyes burning with that familiar, arrogant fire. I expected the Alpha who had survived a hundred wars

The air in the Alpha’s quarters was too still. It had been three days since the burial rites were finalized, three days since I had claimed a throne I never wanted, and three days since the silence had become a physical weight pressing against my ribs. I lay on the expansive bed that still smelled faintly of cedar and cold rain, staring at the shadows dancing on the ceiling, until my exhausted mind finally dragged me under.Suddenly, I was standing in a place that defied geography. It was a cathedral of bones and rusted iron, the sky above a churning, bruised purple that leaked a rhythmic, wet sound like a heart beating in a bucket of water. The ground beneath my boots was slick, not with mud, but with something darker, warmer.Then I saw him.Kael was suspended in the center of the hall, chained to a monolith of jagged stone. His Alpha leathers were gone, replaced by tattered rags that clung to a frame far too thin, far too broken. His head was bowed, his black hair matted with somet

Darius"You want to go there," she whispered, her voice a dry rattle that seemed to scrape against the granite. "To the 9th Circle. Luca called it the Sub-Basement of the Soul. It’s a digestive tract, Darius. It doesn’t just hold you; it breaks you down until there’s nothing left but the screaming."I stood over her, my shadow eclipsing her small, broken form, "I didn’t come here for a travelogue, Elena. I came for the door. How do I open it?"She tilted her head, and the smirk pulled at her sallow skin. "You can’t just knock. To pierce the veil between the living and the 9th, you need a catalyst. A sacrifice of the same cloth. You need to take the life of a witch…someone who has tasted the void and survived it. Someone like me."I felt the heat in my veins spike. I reached down, my fingers locking around the iron collar at her throat, lifting her until her toes barely brushed the floor. "And why would you tell me that? You’re wise, Elena. If your death is my key, why give me the inst