Todos os capítulos de Marked by The Alpha Mated to His Brother : Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

Keon’s POV Rowan does not wait. The moment he says, “We need to talk,” he turns and starts walking like he already knows I will follow. I do. Of course I do. Winter stays where she is, and I can feel her hesitation through the bond even as I move away. It pulls at me slightly, like something trying to keep me anchored in place, but I don’t stop. I can’t. Not with Rowan looking like that. Not with the way his eyes sharpened the second he saw us together. We walk in silence at first. Down the corridor. Past the open arches where morning light spills in. The palace is awake now, guards moving in shifts, servants crossing quietly with lowered heads, but no one speaks as we pass. They notice. Of course they notice. They always do. Rowan doesn’t stop until we reach one of the outer balconies, far enough from the main halls that no one lingers. The wind is cooler here, brushing against the stone and carrying the faint scent of the forest below. He turns then. Fac

Winter’s POV The door closes behind me, and the quiet that follows settles into the room in a way that does not feel right. It is not the soft kind of quiet that lets you relax. It feels stretched, almost like something is listening along with me. I remain by the door for a moment longer than necessary, my hand still resting against it as my breathing slowly steadies. Keon’s reaction stays in my head. The way his body went still in the hallway. The way his voice dropped when he told me to be quiet. The way he pulled me behind him without even thinking about it. He did not hesitate. He did not ask. He just moved. At first I thought it was just control. Just Alpha instinct. But the more I think about it, the more that explanation feels incomplete. There was something else there. Something tighter. Sharper. He was not just in control. He was on edge. The realization makes my chest feel strange, like something inside it is shifting into place whether I want it to or

Keon’s POVThe creature struggles once more.Weak.Fading.My grip does not loosen.Not even slightly.The room is still now except for Winter’s breathing behind me. It comes uneven at first, then slowly steadies, but I can still feel the tremor in it through the bond.Fear.Shock.And something else layered under it.She is trying to understand what she just saw.I do not turn to look at her.Not yet.If I look at her now, even for a second, my control will slip in a way I do not intend to allow.So I focus on what is in front of me.The intruder.“You chose the wrong place,” I say quietly.My voice is calm.Too calm.The creature’s form flickers again under my grip, the outline unstable, like it cannot fully decide what it is supposed to be. The concealment is breaking, but not completely. Whoever sent it knew what they were doing.That alone tells me this is not random.My fingers tighten.“Look at me.”For a second, nothing happens.Then slowly, its form shifts just enough that I

Keon’s POV:Rowan does not slow down.He moves through the corridor with purpose, and I follow without needing to be told twice. The moment we step out of the dining hall, the air feels different. Quieter. Tighter. Like whatever he is about to show me does not belong in open spaces or casual conversation.I do not ask questions immediately.Rowan would not interrupt me in front of the entire hall unless it mattered.Still, the silence stretches long enough that I decide to break it.“What is it?” I ask.He does not look back at me when he answers.“I need you to see it first.”That is not like him.Rowan is direct. Efficient. He does not drag things out unless there is a reason.Which means whatever this is… he is choosing his words carefully.My jaw tightens slightly.We turn down a narrower corridor, one that leads away from the main flow of the palace. Fewer guards. Less movement. More controlled.Good.If this is what I think it is, I do not want unnecessary attention on it yet.R

Winter’s POV At first, I think I am awake. Everything feels too real not to be. The cold beneath my feet. The sound of water moving somewhere nearby. The sharp wind brushing against my skin hard enough to make my arms ache. But when I look around, nothing makes sense. The world is dark. Not nighttime dark. Wrong dark. The kind that swallows shape and distance until everything around you feels endless. I stand still, breathing carefully as icy water curls around my ankles. My white dress drags heavily against my legs, soaked from the tide pulling in and out around me. Ocean. I realize it slowly. I am standing in the ocean. The water stretches endlessly ahead, black and violent beneath a sky with no stars. My chest tightens. I should not be here. The thought comes instantly. This place feels familiar in the worst possible way, like something I have seen before in pieces I could never fully remember. The wind sharpens suddenly. And then I hear it. M