All Chapters of The Marked Mate of the Lycan King: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

DAMON’S BETRAYALThe air in the canyon felt heavy today. It wasn't just the heat; it was the silence. Usually, you could hear the birds or the distant rush of the river, but today, everything seemed to be holding its breath.I sat on a flat rock, sharpening a small knife Silas had given me. My fingers were sore, and my mind was miles away, back in the palace with the King and Selene. But I had to stay sharp. I couldn't afford to be a victim anymore.I saw Damon leaving the camp. He didn't take the main path. He went through the thick brush, moving quickly, his head low. He looked over his shoulder twice.Something felt wrong. Damon had been acting strange for days—quiet, twitchy, avoiding my eyes. I stood up, tucked the knife into my belt, and followed him.I kept my distance, stepping only where he stepped to keep the noise down. He was fast, but he was distracted. He kept checking a piece of parchment in his hand. We climbed higher up the ridge, away from the safety of our hidden ca

FINN’S DECISION The palace felt colder than usual today. It wasn't the weather; the sun was shining bright through the high windows. It was the silence. Everyone was walking on eggshells, whispering in corners. The King’s health was the only thing anyone talked about, but no one said anything of substance.I walked down the long corridor toward the royal infirmary. My boots made a dull thud against the stone floor. I hated this place. It smelled like vinegar, dried herbs, and death."Finn," a voice called out.I turned to see Garrett, one of the younger guards, leaning against a pillar. He looked pale. "Have you been in there today?" he asked, nodding toward the King’s chambers."Not yet," I said. "Why?""He’s worse. The doctors are shaking. I think they’re afraid he won't make it through the night, and they know what happens to the help when a King dies under their care." Garrett rubbed his face with a shaking hand. "If he goes, this whole place falls apart.""He’s survived worse,"

THE PRISONERThe first thing I felt was the cold. It wasn't the fresh, biting cold of the mountain wind Esmeralda loved. This was a heavy, wet cold that felt like it was trying to crawl under my skin and settle in my joints.I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids felt like they had been stitched shut with lead. My head throbbed in time with a slow, dull drumbeat behind my ears. I tried to lift my hand to touch my temple, but my arm wouldn't move. It felt like it belonged to someone else, someone far away."Don't try to move yet, Demetrius. You’ll only make the nausea worse."The voice was smooth, like oil on water. I knew that voice. Rhys.I forced my eyes open. The world was a blur of grey stone and flickering orange light. I was lying on a thin cot that smelled of mildew. Across the room, sitting in a high-backed chair that looked far too comfortable for a hole like this, was Rhys. He was leaning forward, watching me with a look of mild curiosity."Where..." I started, but my throa

THE SMALL LOYAL PACK The dampness of the riverbank clung to our skin like a second layer of clothing. We were huddled in a small cave just past the canyon’s mouth, the sound of the Black River rushing by just outside.I watched them—my "small pack." They weren't high-born knights or trained guards. They were the ones the world had forgotten. The Omegas. The ones told they were too weak to lead and too soft to fight."My hands won't stop blueing," Elara whispered, rubbing her fingers together. She was barely nineteen, with eyes that had seen the inside of a factory for most of her life. Now, she held a sharpened stake like it was a scepter."That's just the river's way of saying hello," Jax said, trying to sound brave. He was trying to sharpen a piece of flint against a stone, his movements steady but his eyes darting to the cave entrance every few seconds. "Once we’re inside the city walls, we’ll find a fire. A real one."I walked over to them, my boots squelching in the mud. I felt

CLOSER TO HOME The mud was cold, soaking through my boots until my toes felt like stones. We were crouched on a ridge overlooking the valley that led to the Citadel. I could smell the rain coming, but there was another smell mixed in—the sharp, bitter scent of woodsmoke and oil."Do you see that?" Jax whispered, crawling up beside me. He pointed toward the horizon where the dark shape of the capital sat like a jagged tooth against the gray sky.Small orange flickers danced along the tops of the outer walls. They weren't torches. Torches stayed still. These moved, grew, and billowed into thick black plumes."Fire," I said, my voice barely a breath. "It’s already started.""Finn said he’d do his part," Silas muttered from my other side. He was sharpening a small knife, the rasping sound of metal on stone matching the beat of my heart. "Looks like the snake actually bit someone for once.""Don't call him that," I snapped, then sighed, rubbing my eyes. "He’s doing the work we can't do. H