บททั้งหมดของ MARKED BY MY ALPHA'S FATHER: บทที่ 131 - บทที่ 140

Marcus never looked toward the boundary. His gaze remained fixed on the enemy host. "No one opens the gates," he said quietly. The first watch passed without a single wolf moving toward the boundary stones. Then the second passed in the same silence. By the time the third watch arrived, not a single member of Silver Ridge had moved to surrender their Alpha King. The younger wolves began to murmur in panic, their eyes darting between the massive, unmoving silhouette of their compromised King and the terrifying sea of blue torches below. Alaric had just turned Marcus's greatest sacrifice into a warrant for his execution. "So be it," Alaric's voice echoed through every wolf's mind. "By the authority of the Moon Council, Silver Ridge is condemned. Let the purge begin." With a deafening roar that shook the very roots of the mountain, the siege began. The sea of cursed blue flames surged forward, crashing against the northern trenches like an angry tide. Thousands of imperial warrio

Cassian’s body remained where he had fallen, the last soldier of a corrupted throne finally freed from the command that had stolen him. Elena forced herself not to look back. There was no time to mourn. Not yet. Elena watched Marcus disappear into the storm, every instinct in her screaming to follow him. But the moment she touched the silver chain beneath her collar, she understood. Marcus was walking toward the source of the curse. She was walking toward the answer that could save him. The courtyard had gone silent, but Silver Ridge was still dying. The surviving wolves dragged their wounded from the broken trenches while the remaining imperial forces pushed deeper into the fortress. The battle had changed shape. It was no longer a war fought at the gates. It was a race. Marcus had already begun the climb toward the northern ridge, toward the man who had poisoned the bloodline of the woman destined to stand beside him. But Elena knew there was another battle being fought bene

The storm howled across the high ridge, but the air between the Alpha King and the ancient monster remained unnaturally still. Alaric rose slowly from the stone bench, his velvet cloak dragging through the frozen slush like spilled blood. His borrowed body trembled beneath his robes, black veins crawling beneath paper-thin skin as the flesh struggled to contain the immortal soul imprisoned inside it. "You still believe what happened in that nursery was an act of love," Alaric said, his voice sliding beneath Marcus's skin like ice. He took one slow step forward, his pale eyes fixed on the glowing silver scars crossing Marcus's chest. "A mighty Alpha shielding his fated mate. How foolish. How utterly blind to the ancient laws that govern this world." Marcus never moved. He stood rooted in the frozen earth, his broad chest rising with slow, controlled breaths while his wolf snarled against the silver prison beneath his skin. "The curse was meant for her," Marcus growled. "I took it in

For the first time in centuries, Alaric felt something he had never allowed himself to experience. Fear. The Continuation Rite was not obeying him anymore. The vessel was not opening. The bloodline was not surrendering. Every calculation he had built over three hundred years had collapsed because of one impossible variable. Love. Choice. A warden who willingly shared the prison was no longer a prisoner. Marcus's Alpha spark surged through the bond, not fighting the curse, but rejecting Alaric's claim over it. Elena's lineage answered from the other side, sealing the ancient prison around the parasite's consciousness one final time. "No... " Alaric whispered. A broken laugh escaped him. "After all this time... she defeated me." For the first time, the immortal did not sound powerful. He sounded mortal. The violet light consuming the ridge flickered. The silence that followed the dissolution of Alaric’s host body was heavy, thick, and absolute. Marcus remained frozen on

The doors of the royal bedchamber clicked shut, locking out the rest of the world. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, there were no guards stationed right outside, no war councils waiting for dawn, and no shadow of a parasite hanging over their heads. It was just the two of them. Silas had finally fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep in his cedar cradle near the hearth. The soft, rhythmic sound of the pup's breathing was the only noise in the room, underscored by the gentle crackle of the fireplace. Marcus stood by the washbasin, his large frame silhouetted by the amber firelight. He had stripped off his leather armor and his mud-stained tunic. Now, wearing only his loose dark trousers, he poured fresh water over his hands and wiped the remaining grime of the road from his face. Elena watched him from the edge of the large bed. She had changed into a simple, soft linen nightgown, her hair unpinned and falling over her shoulders in dark waves. Without the armor an