All Chapters of The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Lucian’s POV The corridors in Phantom’s palace stretched before me, dim and endless, torchlight flickering against stone like restless spirits. My footsteps echoed too loud, betraying the storm inside me. Every shadow seemed alive, curling along the walls, whispering warnings I refused to hear. The air itself felt heavy, charged, as if the palace knew I was about to cross a line. Maryelle’s name pulsed in my chest with every step, a rhythm louder than my heartbeat. I remembered her laughter, the way her eyes softened when she came alive, passionate about something, the way she fought for Phantom even when it broke her. That loyalty was her strength—and her weakness. And tonight, it might be mine too. The prophecy pressed against me like a weight. You and she are destined. You are meant for her and she was meant for you. I had carried those words for years, carved into me like scripture, but destiny didn’t account for Phantom. Destiny didn’t account for the way she looked at him,

Phantom’s POV The palace had become a cage, every corridor echoing with Lucian’s defiance. His shadow clung to the walls, poisoning the air, and I couldn’t stand it another second. Maryelle’s gaze had lingered on him, her breath faltered, and I knew if I didn’t act, I’d lose her piece by piece. So I made the decision without hesitation: we were leaving. By dawn, Maryelle was beside me in the carriage, the horizon stretching wide and endless. She didn’t ask where we were going. She didn’t need to. I wanted her away from all of it — away from him, away from the whispers, away from the weight of destiny. Just us. The road wound through forests and cliffs, the air sharp with salt and pine. I watched her as the carriage jolted over stones, her hair catching the light, her eyes distant. She looked fragile, torn, and I hated it. I reached for her hand, threading my fingers through hers, refusing to let her drift too far. “We need this,” I said, my voice low, steady. “You and me. Aw

Phantom’s POV The third morning broke softer than the last, the sky pale and quiet, the sea below calmer, as if even the waves knew this was the end of something. Maryelle stirred beside me, her dark hair spilling across the pillow like silk, her breath steady. I watched her for a long moment, memorizing the way she looked when the world wasn’t pulling her apart. I wanted this trip to be more than an escape. I wanted it to be proof. Proof that she and I could still find joy, still find fire, still find us. “Come with me,” I said as she blinked awake, my voice low but certain. She frowned, still half‑asleep. “Where are we off to now?” “Somewhere you’ll remember,” I promised. We left the inn after breakfast, the path winding through meadows where wildflowers bent in the breeze. I led her higher, toward a ridge where the land opened wide. When we reached the crest, the view stole her breath—a valley stretched below, lit by sunlight, dotted with streams that glittered like silv

Lucian’s POVDinner sat untouched before me, the silver platters steaming, the scent of roasted meat filling the royal dining room. I wasn’t hungry. Rage had a way of hollowing me out, leaving nothing but venom. My jaw clenched as I stared at the firelight flickering against the marble walls, each flicker reminding me of Phantom’s words: She’s mine. And to be clear, I don’t give a damn on whether or not you live. The doors opened, and Lomi stepped inside. My twin. My mirror. My betrayer. “Luc,” she said softly, her voice carrying across the cavernous room. “Are you really never talking to me again? I’m your sister—your twin. And you know I just wanted to help. Besides, if I hadn’t turned her into an Intercrossed, Canum would’ve just killed her anyway.” My head snapped up, fury igniting all over again. “You could’ve killed her,” I snarled, my voice sharp enough to cut. Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t flinch. “So are you just going to spend the rest of our lives angry w

Maryelle’s POVBy morning, I couldn’t keep it inside. The storm in my head was too loud, too relentless. I needed voices other than my own, voices that could cut through the chaos. So I met up with Anna and Shaw—my closest friends, the ones who had seen me through every fracture of my life. Israfil would have been there too, but his werepanther prince duties kept him away. We sat at our usual café table, sunlight spilling across the worn wood. Anna leaned forward, her red hair catching the light like fire, while Shaw lounged back, arms crossed, muscles taut, watching me with that brotherly protective sharpness he never quite let go of. I stirred my coffee, avoiding their eyes. “This is a judgment‑free zone, right?” They both nodded, curiosity flickering across their faces. “Can I ask you both something… strange?” Anna arched a brow, amused. “Strange is our specialty.” I exhaled, the words heavy. “Have you ever… dreamed of someone other than your significant other? And not