All Chapters of Claimed By My Mate's Uncle: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

129 Chapters

81. Masking Scent

The silver fluid inside the glass vial swirled like a miniature, captured storm cloud. Rosalie sat on the edge of the wooden cot, her fingers trembling so violently the glass clinked against her fingernails. She looked down at the potion, then pressed her other hand flat against her stomach. The realization that a tiny, fragile heartbeat was hidden beneath her skin gave her a sudden, fierce wave of maternal bravery.With a sharp intake of breath, she uncorked the vial and brought it to her lips, swallowing the first few drops.The potion tasted of crushed mint and freezing iron, sliding down her throat like liquid ice. Instantly, a strange, numbing sensation washed over her skin, vibrating through her veins. Her inner wolf let out a quiet, confused whine before falling completely silent, tucked away beneath a heavy shroud of ancient magic.Ezekiel stepped close

82. Her Heart Breaking Peace

The small stone cottage sat nestled against the rugged coastal cliffs, its weathered walls wrapped in wild rosemary and creeping ivy. Below, the vast southern ocean stretched out toward the horizon, its deep blue waves crashing rhythmically against the shore. The air here was entirely different from the harsh, biting frost of the Amber Court; it was warm, thick with the scent of salt, blooming jasmine, and soft freedom.Inside, the cottage was small but incredibly cozy. A gentle fire crackled in the stone hearth, casting a golden, welcoming glow across the wooden floors.Josy, the mute housekeeper Ezekiel had meticulously chosen, greeted Rosalie with a deep, respectful bow and a warmth that melted the last bits of tension from her shoulders. In that moment, Josy reminded her of Martha, and sadness settled in her gaze.Without a single word, Josy moved with a qu

83. The Silent Siege

The cold light of dawn crept through the small glass window of the coastal cottage, casting pale gray shadows across the wooden floorboards.Rosalie sat up slowly in bed, her eyes swollen and stinging from a night spent weeping into her pillow. The mattress beside her was cold, empty, and silent. Her heart was a shattered mess, raw with the unbearable grief of Dominic’s betrayal, but as she looked down at her lap, her hands instinctively drifted to her flat stomach.I have to be strong, she thought, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. I am not just fighting for myself anymore.She glanced at the small wooden nightstand. Resting beside a pitcher of water was the glass vial containing Morana’s silver potion. Rosalie checked the position of the morning sun; it was time. Exactly twenty-four hours since her last dose.With trembling fingers, she uncorked the vial. The liquid swirled with that strange, icy magic, smelling sharply of crushed mint and iron. Rosalie brought the glass to her li

84. Shadows On The Border

The mud along the borderlands was dark, thick, and stained with the sweat of hundreds of restless warhorses. A heavy, suffocating silence hung over the neutral territory, broken only by the distant snap of Northern banners whipping in the cold wind.In the center of the makeshift encampment stood Dominic.He looked like an absolute nightmare, a phantom straight out of a horror story. He wore no polished armor, no regal robes, and no crown. His dark tunic was torn, stained with dirt and dried crimson blood from his own split knuckles. His long black hair was wild, hanging in greasy strands over a face that had grown hollow, pale, and unhinged. But the most terrifying thing about the Supreme King of the North was his eyes. The warm amber was completely gone, swallowed whole by a pitch-black void of pure, psychotic obsession.He hadn't slept in days. He hadn't was

85. Into The Dark Tide

The suffocating stillness of the cottage felt heavier with every passing second. Rosalie sat on the edge of her mattress, her cold fingers wrapped tightly around her knees as tears of guilt silently tracked down her cheeks.She couldn't stop thinking about Ezekiel, his innocent people, and the terrifying war camp Dominic had built right on the border. She had brought this chaos to their doorstep. By running away, she hadn't just risked her own survival and the tiny, hidden heartbeat inside her womb; she had put an entire kingdom in the crosshairs of a feral, unhinged beast.Suddenly, the quiet night was shattered.Outside, the faint crunch of heavy, iron-booted footsteps echoed against the gravel path. Rosalie froze, her breath hitching in her throat."Check around the sides," a low, gravelly voice rasped right outside her bedro

86. The Ashes of Secrecy

The orange flames roared furiously into the black night sky, hungrily devouring the weathered wooden roof and beams of the coastal stone cottage. Ash and thick, dark smoke billowed over the rugged cliffside, whipped violently into swirling whirlpools by the biting ocean breeze. Below, the relentless waves crashed against the rocks, as if trying to drown out the sound of the crackling inferno.At the edge of the burning threshold, the two scarred rogue mercenaries stood in the dirt, spitting furiously onto the ground. Their heavy broadswords were unsheathed, glinting with red reflections from the fire, their soot-stained faces twisted in absolute, bitter frustration. They had been inches away from a life-altering fortune, inches away from dragging the runaway Luna straight back to King Dominic for a million gold pieces. Now, their prize had slipped right through their fingers, disappearing into the pitch-black, churning ocean.

87. Safe Harbor

Far out on the open sea, dawn was slowly breaking over the endless horizon.The dark night sky gradually painted itself in pale shades of cold gray and soft, dusty gold, illuminating the vast, relentless expanse of choppy, deep-blue water. The tiny wooden fishing boat tossed violently against the rolling waves, completely adrift in the middle of the deep ocean, far away from any visible shore.Rosalie sat huddled in the stern of the boat, her dark wool cloak soaked through with freezing sea spray. Beside her, Josy lay curled up against the wooden bench, exhausted, pale, and shivering, her hands clutching the sides of the small vessel to keep herself from tumbling into the sea. Rosalie’s muscles ached with a dull, throbbing pain, her delicate palms raw, red, and blistered from hours of desperately rowing away from the burning cliffside in the dark.Sud

88. The Port of Marrow

Seven beautiful days on the open sea brought a drastic and welcome change in the ocean air. Those days on the ship were so wholesome for her. Rosalie saw a world which she only read about in books. The sea, the stormy wind, the sense of freedom- it was all too beautiful, something she had never seen in her entire life.The freezing, biting gales of the North and the suffocating, humid rainfall of the Southern kingdom yielded to a crisp, salt-heavy breeze carrying the rich, chaotic scents of exotic spices, roasted meats, and drying timber.Early in the morning, as the thick ocean sea fog began to roll away, the grand skyline of Port Marrow rose dramatically from the western coastline.It was a sprawling, vibrant, and entirely lawless coastal haven built directly against jagged red-stone cliffs. Hundreds of ships, ranging from massive merchant vessels to

89. The Iron Net

Six months later.The golden afternoon sun cast a warm, tranquil glow over the seaside town of Port Marrow. The harsh winter had long passed, replaced by the gentle, fragrant breezes of late summer.In the small garden behind the stone house, Rosalie knelt on a soft woven mat placed over the lush green grass. Her appearance had changed dramatically. Her pale cheeks had recovered a healthy, rosy glow from the coastal sun; her long red hair was braided neatly and now reached below her hips, so thick, silky, and long, and her jade eyes shone with a quiet, profound serenity that had been missing for years.She wore a loose, comfortable linen dress of soft green. Beneath the fabric, her belly was round, heavy, and beautifully prominent.Rosalie gently stroked her stomach, feeling the firm, strong kick o

90. Alam Her Protector

The cobblestone streets of Port Marrow hummed with chaotic energy, the midday sun warming the sea-scented breeze that swept through the harbor market. Rosalie walked carefully along the crowded stalls, her hand resting over the heavy, round curve of her stomach. Her thick, silky red hair fell past her hips in a long, neat braid, catching the golden light as she moved. To the world, she was simply Rose, a herbalist’s daughter preparing for the arrival of her child.She paused at a fruit cart, admiring a basket of ripe plums, while Josy inspected a nearby bundle of dried lavender. For a brief moment, the quiet rhythm of the market brought a rare sense of peace to Rosalie’s heart.That peace shattered the second a shadow fell across her path."Well, well... I certainly didn't expect to find the missing Luna of the North marketing fruits in a lawless po

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