Marked By The Cursed Alpha Prince のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

LucianThe rise and fall of her chest was captivating in her fitted blouse. Her wide neck offered a glimpse that made my body tense, while her dark vibrant curls tumbled over her shoulders, her bronz skin, and her eyes dark as night were promising me excitement.Layla smiled innocently and simply questioned, “What….”She pressed her lips together as a slow and suggestive smile bloomed on her lips before she turned with smooth grace and climbed onto me. Her fluid movements were captivating and clearly meant to be admired. The fabric of her skirt moved as she sat on me, gathering in soft folds over her thighs and creasing just enough to hint at the desirable skin underneath.“Alright,” I whispered, the sound huskier than I intended, “what mischievous plan do you have in mind for us, hmm?”Accustomed to always being in charge, I found myself briefly hesitating until I let out a low chuckle when her hand decisively reached for my trousers, freeing me from the constraints of politeness a

THIRD-PERSON POV“Ah!”“Yes, Prince Max—yes! Yes!”“Oh, dear gods…”“Yes!”The walls of the Sapphire Brothel trembled as though alive while shaking with laughter, breathless pleas, drunken shouts, and secrets that men only dared confess when the candles were low, and the world outside fell away. The scent of incense, sweat, and sweet wine curled together in the dim air.When Prince Maximillian finally finished with the whore beneath him, he rose with a long exhale, wiped the sheen of sweat from his brow, and fastened the golden clasp on his princely cloak. With each breath, he shed the wildness of the act and resumed his usual expression, which was cold, composed, and polished with the arrogance of a royal prince. He was a man who believed every person, every stone, every god owed him its knees.Outside the chamber door, his sworn knight stood waiting. “Zed,” the Prince said, stepping into the lamp-lit hall.“Your Highness,” Zed replied, bowing his head.They moved down the winding

LucianThe temple stood quiet under the bright wash of sunlight, its stone arches silvered with age, its carved wolves staring outward as if guarding the ancient silence. I paused before the entrance, letting the cold wind circle my cloak. It felt strange to stand here again after so many years. So, strange, and heavy, as if the past had suddenly risen from its grave to breathe against my neck.When I was a boy, I would come here with Jane, my small hand clutched in hers as we prayed that my father might return home alive. He fought at the borders with a stubborn courage that made even seasoned soldiers bow their heads in respect. He held Lunaris when others faltered. He kept our people free when other kingdoms whispered of wolves as slaves, beasts, and trophies. But courage does not shield a man forever, and my father died on a battlefield drenched in blood.After that, I stopped coming. What was left to pray for? My mother’s death followed soon after my birth; I was the cursed Princ

“Sir Gregory, how long will you follow me?” I asked the man who looked like he had been carved out of stone and then forgotten by the sculptor. He neither spoke nor frowned, and honestly, his total lack of expression was starting to crawl under my skin.“It is the prince’s order that I follow you all day,” Sir Gregory finally replied.“Will you follow me everywhere?” I asked again, wondering if everywhere included the bathhouse.“Yes, my lady.”“Great,” I said with a big smile. “With this mountain-of-muscle man behind me, who would dare to cheat me today? Truly, his highness is the kindest and smartest man in the entire world. He deserves a prize. Maybe even a statue. Maybe you, Sir Gregory.”His lips twitched, but he did not let himself stop being a stone.“Where are we going?” Gregory asked as we walked to the other side of the city where no one ever goes. It smelled like something had died, resurrected, and died again, and nobody liked to come here unless they had completely lost t

Lucian “Is that the language you choose to use for your future sister-in-law?” Marcus asked at once, stepping between us before the sparks could grow into one of our usual fires. “Lucian is seven years older than you, Maxmillian. You will speak of him and his wife with dignity.”I did not say a word, though the insult clawed at me as a blade dragged slowly across the skin. Maxmillian had spoken of Layla’s body as if it were a toy lying in the market, something to bargain over, something to mock in front of half the world, and I knew very well that it wasn’t mere childish mischief but a calculated move. Each jab of his was crafted to provoke me, to pull me out of control, to shame me in front of Prince Matthew and Princess Arielle so that he could watch my pride splinter in a hall full of witnesses.If Marcus hadn’t stepped between us like a dutiful shield, Maxmillian would have succeeded in forcing me into a public brawl, which, so close to a Stark wedding, would have told every clan