All Chapters of Fated To Mate: Chapter 21 - Chapter 25

The date had been a dream, a fragile, silver-tipped miracle that felt like the first page of a different life. They walked down the creaking stairs together, her hand steady in his, and stepped out into the salt-damp evening. The air was cool and clean, carrying the low murmur of waves and the faint, metallic tang of low tide. The beach stretched ahead, nearly empty: only a few distant dog-walkers silhouetted against the horizon and the occasional cry of gulls wheeling overhead. The sky had gone bruised lavender, the sea restless under the last of the light.Kael slipped off his shoes first, toes curling into the cool sand. He knelt in front of Maxine without a word, gentle fingers undoing the straps of her sandals, lifting each foot in turn so she could step free, his touch careful, reverent, never lingering too long.They walked barefoot along the wet, packed sand where the waves could reach them. Fingers laced, they matched pace without trying. The water rushed up to kiss their ank

The air in the courtyard was electric, a storm front moving in. ​Kael ignored Lillian’s poisonous words as if she were nothing more than a ghost. His entire world had narrowed down to the small, trembling girl at his side. He tried to lunge for her, but his knees buckled, the ground rushing up to meet him before the enforcers caught his arms.​“Max—” he choked out.​Roderick simply flicked his hand casually, sending two more enforcers to tear them apart.​“Get your filthy hands off her!” Kael thundered. The sound didn't come from his throat; it came from his soul, cracking through the silence of the courtyard like a mountain splitting in half.​The pack flinched as one. Even the older wolves, seasoned by decades of violence, felt a primal shiver. They hadn't known Kael was capable of such raw, devastating rage. Despite the heavy sludge of wolfsbane and the paralyzing agents screaming through his veins, his muscles corded with a strength that shouldn't have been possible. He nearly thr

The pack house was quiet in the gray light of early morning, the kind of quiet that felt heavy, and expectant. Maxine had been in the lower dungeon for two days now, stone walls damp with centuries of secrets, iron bars that smelled faintly of old blood and wolfsbane. They’d bound her wrists again, though the rope felt almost unnecessary; she hadn’t fought, hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even cried out when the cell door clanged shut. She’d simply sat on the cold floor, knees drawn to her chest, staring at the small barred window high above where the first pale fingers of dawn were beginning to creep in. She didn’t know what they’d done to Kael. And everytime she tried to ask the guards they just averted their eyes and remain tight lipped. Being apart from Kael hurt worse than any chain.Meanwhile, upstairs, in the heir’s suite, rooms Kael had once called his own before exile, he woke slowly, head pounding like someone had driven spikes behind his eyes. The sheets were tangled around his legs,