All Chapters of The Marked Mate of the Lycan King: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

THE COVERT ENTRYThe iron grate was slick with green slime and age. It took three of us—Jax, Silas, and me—to heave it upward. It didn't groan; it shrieked. I held my breath, waiting for a guard to shout or a bell to ring, but the only sound was the distant, muffled thud of the fires burning in the city above."God, the smell," Silas whispered, pulling his collar over his nose. "I’ve smelled dead things in the woods that were sweeter than this.""It’s the smell of a city that’s rotting from the head down," I said. I stepped onto the ladder first. My boots splashed into a foot of cold, sluggish water. "Come on. Stay close. If you lose sight of the person in front of you, you’re lost."The sewers were narrow and curved. The air was thick, making every breath feel like a chore. We moved in a single file line. My torch flickered, casting long, shaky shadows against the damp stone walls. Every time a rat scurried past or water dripped from the ceiling, someone flinched. We were all on edge

THE HIDDEN SCROLLSThe air in the gallery was thick with the smell of old dust and expensive candle wax. Every shadow looked like a soldier. We moved in a line, our footsteps swallowed by the thick rugs. Finn led the way, his hand never leaving the hilt of his sword. He kept glancing back at Jax and Silas, his eyes darting like a trapped bird."Wait," I whispered, pulling on Finn’s sleeve.He jumped, his breath hitching. "What? Did you hear something?""No," I said, pointing to a small, unassuming door tucked under a stone arch. "We aren't going to the bedchamber yet. Not until you see why we’re actually here."Finn frowned, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "Esme, we don't have time for a tour. Every second we stand here is a second closer to a guard patrol finding us. You have the key. Let’s just go.""This is more important than the key," I said. I looked at Jax. "Watch the hall. If you see a torch, whistle."Jax nodded, his face grim. He leaned against the

THE KING’S CHAMBERS The stairs to the north tower cellars were slick with moisture. Every step we took felt like we were walking into the mouth of some giant, sleeping beast. The air down here didn't move. It was thick with the smell of wet stone, old vinegar, and something else—something sweet and rotten that made the hair on my arms stand up."Watch your footing," Finn whispered. He held a small torch out in front of us, but the light seemed to get swallowed by the dark before it could hit the walls."I’m fine," I said, though my knees were shaking. "Just keep going. We have to be close."We reached the bottom, and the room opened up. It was a forest of wooden racks, most of them empty and broken. I remembered being a little girl and hearing stories about the King’s private collection of wines, things brought from across the sea that cost more than a whole village earned in a year. Now, it just looked like a graveyard.I counted the racks. One. Two. Three.Behind the third one, the

THE HEALING POWERThe room was far too quiet. Now that we were back in the upper chambers, the distant sounds of the riot felt like they belonged to another world. Here, there was only the sound of Demetrius’s wet, shallow breathing and the frantic ticking of a clock on the wall.Finn paced by the window, his hands stained with soot. "We can’t stay here, Esme. The guards will realize the cellar door was forced. We have to move him.""Move him where?" I asked. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the King. His skin wasn't just pale anymore; it had a metallic, sickly sheen to it. "He’s dying, Finn. Not from a heart that won't beat, but from the silver. It’s inside him. It’s eating him from the inside out."I reached out and touched his hand. It was ice cold. Under the skin of his wrist, I could see the veins pulsing with a strange, dark gray light."You did what you could," Finn said, coming over to put a hand on my shoulder. "You brought him back once. No one can ask for mo

THE KING RALLIESMy legs were shaking almost as much as his. The effort of pulling that silver out of him had left me hollow, like a well that had been pumped dry. But looking at Demetrius now, I knew I couldn't sit down.He was trying to stand. His hands were white where he gripped the edge of the bed. He looked like a man who had forgotten how to use his own bones."Wait," I said, reaching out to catch his elbow. "You aren't ready. Your heart... it’s still finding its rhythm again."Demetrius didn't look at me at first. He was staring at his own feet as they touched the cold floor. "They are in the Great Hall, Esmeralda. I can hear them. I can hear the way they talk about the city—like it’s a carcass they’re fighting over.""Let them fight," I argued. "We can get you out of the back way. Finn knows the tunnels.""No." He finally looked up. His eyes weren't the dead, metallic grey they used to be. They were a deep, dark blue, full of a pain that was finally his own. "I have spent yea