Fake Bond of the Lycan Lords のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

Luka POV"Get the door, Bexley," I growled, my voice cutting through the heavy silence of the medical wing.My Lycan did not answer with words. He just bared our teeth, his massive claws scraping against the cold lino floor. We stood fixed between the door and Betty's bed. Her breathing was too shallow. Too quiet.My mobile vibrated twice in my pocket. A mindlink from Mitchell smashed into my brain a second later.Adriel is down. Out cold. The northern perimeter is breached.Every muscle in my back locked. I did not look at the screen. I kept my eyes drilled on the heavy oak door."She is coming," Bexley warned, his mental voice a rough snarling mess inside my skull. "I smell copper. And dead flowers.""We do not move from this spot," I muttered back.Thirty minutes passed in total agony. Every tick of the wall clock felt like a physical blow to my ribs. Betty did not stir. She just lay there under the

Mitchell POV"Get up, Prince Mitchell, before I dump a bucket of well water over your royal head."Novalee’s voice rasps right above me.I blink hard. My vision blurs, then snaps into focus. The stone floor beneath my cheek is freezing. My head throbs with a heavy, rhythmic pulse that makes my teeth ache. I was knocked out cold. Five minutes? An hour?I push myself up on one elbow. Novalee, Audrey’s aunt - the woman the poor girl still thinks is just her stepmother because I swore a blood oath to keep my mouth shut - is already turning away from me. She crouches low beside Nina’s limp form on the blood-stained floor.Novalee extends her thin hands over Nina, her palms glowing with a faint, restless light. Then she lets out a sharp, piercing shriek.The air splits.Luka moves so fast his body becomes a literal blur across my vision. One second, he is standing by my shoulder, a silent s

Mitchell POV"Get your head out of your arse, boy, or I will put you through that fence."My father's voice cut through the damp heat of the training field, but it barely registered. I was too busy staring at the dirt. Two days. It had been two days since Betty and Adriel shared that silent, magical link while he was unconscious. They had spoken. Truly spoken. And me? I got nothing. She hadn't come to my room. She hadn't even looked at me across the courtyard."Concentrate!"His fist whistled past my ear, the displacement of air snapping me back to the grass."Adriel says she forgave me," I muttered, ducking a heavy left hook that would have shattered my jaw. "He keeps saying it. A thousand times over. He swears she doesn't hate us.""Then believe him," my father grunted, shifting his weight onto his back leg."I can't." I dropped into a low stance, my boots skidding on the torn turf. "I cannot even fo

Adriel POV"Get your hands off me, Luka," Novalee snaps, her voice cutting through the damp air of the courtyard.I lean against the cold stone pillar, crossing my arms over my chest. I do not lift a finger to intervene. Novalee gives me a sharp, flashing look that says everything. She wants to handle this punishment herself. I give her a slow nod, stepping back to let her take the lead.Luka stumbles backward, his boots skidding on the wet tarmac. Mitchell, Robert, and Ian form a heavy wall behind him, blocking his path toward the main gates. My father and Uncle Jethro stand a few feet away under the stone archway. Neither of them looks impressed. Their faces are hard, their jaws set tight in the grey morning light."What is the meaning of this?" Dad yells, his deep voice rattling the glass panes of the nearby windows. He steps forward, deliberately letting his heavy Lycan aura flood the courtyard. "Aren’t you supposed to be guardi

Adriel POV"Get your hands off me before I take your fingers off," I growl, pulling my boots out of the thick puddle of vomit staining the carpet.Novalee jumps backward, her bare feet narrowly missing the splash zone."Are you completely pathetic, or did you just fail to prepare your soft royal stomach for real magic?" Novalee laughs, wiping a stray drop of sweat from her forehead."Your transport magic smells like burning copper and wet dog," I say, coughing hard until my throat feels raw. "It has nothing to do with my stomach.""Air and electricity always leave a bitter sting in the air," Novalee says, patting my shoulder with far too much force. "I should have given you a warning before I tore us through the fabric of the room.""A warning would have kept your floor clean," I say, refusing to turn my head toward the centre of the dark chamber. "Your mother does not seem pleased by our sudden arrival.""She is never pleased, and sh