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Home / Werewolf / The Marked Mate of the Lycan King / Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Marked Mate of the Lycan King: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

159 Kabanata

Chapter 21

The Soft SpotThe expedition to the Shadow Canyons was only two days away. My mind was heavy with the weight of what I had seen, Rhys’s betrayal, the cloaked figure, the word "Harvest," and Demetrius's terrible, lonely exhaustion.I knew he was sick, and now I knew his second-in-command was planning for his fall. But the King had also nearly caught me spying, and the look in his eyes that night was pure, cold suspicion. The lie about the Mate Bond fever saved me, but it wouldn’t work again.I hate him. I hate the way he uses me. I hate that he is willing to discard me for his plan. But the hate is thin now, stretched over too much fear and too much truth. I saw him weak. I saw him cornered. And now, I can’t stop seeing the boy he might have been, trapped in the armor of a King who trusts no one. This pity is a poison. It will make me stay when I should run.I couldn't stand the sight of the maps, the endless reports, or the judgmental glares of the maids. I needed air that didn't smel

Chapter 22

The ArgumentTwo days. That was all the time left before the expedition. The Citadel hummed with the sudden, frantic energy of preparation. The King's personal guard was mobilized, supplies were being counted, and the atmosphere was thick with tension.My discovery of Demetrius’s "soft spot", the injured Lycan pup, had twisted my insides into a complicated knot. It was impossible to hate the monster when I had seen the lonely man hiding in the straw. It made his tyranny feel less like malice and more like a terrible, protective instinct against the world.But that knowledge was a dangerous comfort. It made me forget that despite his secret kindness, he still planned to discard me or have me executed.I saw him heal a pup. I saw him show mercy. But he still looks at me like a problem that needs to be solved with steel. He trusts a wounded animal more than he trusts his own Mate. The Mate Bond is screaming for relief, and his rejection is making the fever worse. I need to make him under

Chapter 23

The Hidden DoorThe argument with Demetrius had done what weeks of polite silence could not: it stripped away the last of my fragile hopes. He wasn't going to choose the Mate Bond. He had chosen his role, his fear, and the execution contract. He was fighting his own survival.With the expedition set to leave at sunrise, I knew this was the last possible night to find proof. If I left the Citadel without knowing the truth about the silver, I was just a guide to my own grave.He told me to get out. He told me I was nothing but a tool. Fine. A tool can still cut. Rhys is watching everyone. Finn is silent. The only thing I can trust is my own two hands and the awful ache of the Mate Bond, which confirms every time I see him that he is sick, not just cold.I have to get into that room. The room Rhys always uses, the room near Demetrius's bedchambers. The one where he keeps the thing that is killing him. If I find the silver, I can prove Rhys is the betrayer. If I can prove that, maybe I ca

Chapter 24

The Scent of PainThe Citadel was tense, waiting for sunrise. The grand expedition to the Shadow Canyons was tomorrow. I was packed, dressed in simple travel clothes, and waiting. My room felt like the final stop before the gallows.I tried to focus on the map, the compass Demetrius had given me, and the details of the mountain paths. But all I could feel was the constant, low-level burn of the Mate Bond. It was a dull, heavy ache, like a piece of iron rusting inside my chest.Demetrius had made his choice clear: he would rather die from his secret pain than trust me. And he would rather kill me than admit he needs me.I have seen the monster and the man. The man cares for an injured pup. The monster stands by the contract. He is a stone wall, and I have nothing left to throw at him but my own survival. I go to the canyons to find the truth, not to be his guide. But right now, the King is winning the war for his heart, and I’m just waiting for the final execution order.Around midnigh

Chapter 25

Preparing for the RoadThe Citadel felt hollow, waiting for dawn. After the storm and the terrifying brush with Demetrius's unfiltered pain, the hours had crawled by. The expedition was no longer a threat hanging over my head; it was a deadline. The end of the Citadel's fragile, gilded safety.I stood by the window as the first pale light stretched over the mountain peaks. Below, the courtyard was organized chaos. Lycans in dark, practical armor moved with swift purpose, loading supply wagons and strapping on weapons. Silver gleamed everywhere—in the decorative chains, the tips of the arrows, and the metal worked into their armor, a constant, low reminder of their anti-human arsenal.The Citadel was a cage, yes, but it was a predictable one. I knew the walls, the guards, and the hidden doors. Out there, in the war zone, the rules change every hour. I'm going from a gilded cell to a battlefield, guided by a King who wants me dead, flanked by a Beta who wants to kill me, and chased by a

Chapter 26

The War CampThe journey had been a long, cold blur of dust and silence. We rode for hours, the Lycan army a dark, disciplined tide flowing through the northern forests. I was always in the center of the Vanguard, a silent, fragile knot of an Omega surrounded by steel and muscle.When we finally stopped, the sun was dropping fast, painting the western sky in bruised purples and dark reds.This wasn't a city. It wasn't the Citadel. This was a war camp.The base was dug into a desolate valley, surrounded by jagged, broken peaks that led toward the forbidden Shadow Canyons. The air was sharp with pine and the biting cold of high altitude. Instead of marble and magic light, there was mud, heavy canvas tents, and the practical glow of oil lamps. It felt real, ugly, and dangerous.I slid down from my horse. My legs were numb, and my stomach churned with pure nerves. We had left the safety of the cage for the harshness of the battlefield.Finn was immediately at my side, taking the horse's r

Chapter 27

The Night's PullThe scent of pine and Demetrius was suffocating. I lay on the edge of the cot, wrapped in furs, but the cold of the mountain air couldn't fight the dry heat coming off the other side of the wool partition.Demetrius was there. I knew he wasn't asleep, even though I hadn't heard a sound in the last hour. My Lycan senses, heightened by the Mate Bond, mapped every breath he took. Long, slow exhales. Controlled. Too controlled.The bond was a physical pressure, like being underwater. It demanded that I turn, that I reach, that I seek the center of the Lycan power in the room, which was him. It felt like my skin was too tight for my body. Every muscle felt coiled, waiting for a release that would not come.I hate this. I hate this more than the Citadel's silence. There, I could forget him for an hour under the magic dampeners. Here, he is the air I breathe. I feel the sickness in his body, the tight knot of rage he uses to suppress the Mate Bond. It isn't just a rejection

Chapter 28

Shared NightmareThe long night dragged on, a slow, agonizing slide toward dawn. I hadn't slept, and I knew Demetrius hadn't either, despite the silence on his side of the wool curtain.After he had commanded me to silence, he had finally moved from the map table to his cot. I could feel the tension ease in the room the moment he lay down, but it was replaced by a more dangerous, internal pressure. The Mate Bond pulsed with a slow, heavy rhythm, like a distant, sick heart trying to keep beating.I lay perfectly still on my cot, trying to trick my body into resting. Every shift of the furs, every small cough, felt loud and wrong in the stillness. Outside the thick canvas walls, the war camp was quiet, only the occasional crunch of a guard's boots or the low, mournful howl of a distant Lycan on patrol.I feel his heat more than the fire now. I know the rhythm of his breathing. Slow, steady. But it’s not peaceful. It’s the breathing of a man fighting stillness, using every muscle to keep

Chapter 29

The Unbearable ReliefThe first sound I registered was the camp bugle, sharp and insistent. It cut through the heavy silence of the tent and dragged me out of the deepest, cleanest sleep I had experienced in years.I blinked, staring up at the dark canvas ceiling. I should have felt the pain. Every morning, the silver relic near my heart flared, a vicious, burning reminder of the day my parents died. The agony usually gripped me the second I woke, forcing me upright, forcing me to use the Lycan rage to keep the sickness in check.But today, there was nothing. No fire. Only a strange, deep-seated peace.I moved, stretching my arms above my head. My muscles felt rested, not coiled and exhausted from fighting a silent war all night. I remembered the nightmare, the usual scene of blood and fire, the metallic taste of silver in my throat. It had been closing in on me, suffocating me—and then, nothing. It had simply faded, like a bad scent washing away.What happened? This is not normal. Th

Chapter 30

The Discovery (Part 1)Demetrius had slammed out of the tent without looking back, his fury a visible thing in the cold morning air. I heard his heavy, rapid footsteps fade as he headed toward the main planning structure. Good. That gave me maybe an hour, maybe less.I got dressed quickly, pulling on the thick, warm layers he provided. My hands were shaking, not from the cold, but from the adrenaline spike left by our last conversation. He thought I was playing games. He thought I was trying to control him. He didn’t understand that I was trying to understand what was killing him, because if he fell, the whole Kingdom did. And if the Kingdom fell, the Hunters won.He’s not taking the medicine, but he felt the cure last night. It was me. The Mate Bond. He is so afraid of needing me that he will let himself burn with silver sickness. I need to know what that silver is. I need to see the container. Is it a poison? A relic? He is keeping a secret that is bigger than the prophecy, bigger t

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