All Chapters of The Mate Hunt: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

RonanI woke aching in ways I rarely admitted. Not wounded, just sore, with the sting of scratches burning across my shoulders and the distinct impression of Maeve’s teeth near my collarbone. I’d never felt better.Grey light crept through the seams of the tent, illuminating the chaos we’d made of the bedroll. Blankets twisted everywhere, the wall Maeve built between us vanished sometime during the night. I doubted she remembered tearing it down.Maeve slept beside me, truly slept, loose-limbed and unguarded, her hand resting on my chest as if she’d reached for me even in dreams. The heat that had consumed her finally faded after the fifth time it dragged her beneath, until her body gave out and she fell asleep tangled against me, the bond settling warm and strong between us.It was different now, less like a fragile thread and more like something braided and sure. Her heartbeat echoed beneath mine, her exhaustion rolling gently through me, no pain, no panic, just peace. Not everythin

MaeveAll I could hear were the words Ronan had spoken, echoing like a bell through the hollow of my chest.She does not share Maeve’s blood.Mara’s face flickered behind my eyelids, a memory sharp as winter air.I saw her brushing the snarls from my hair when I was small, her touch gentle and careful even through my tears. I remembered how she’d sneak crusts from the kitchens when there wasn’t enough food for the both of us, her eyes darting with mischief and sacrifice.Mara had taught me how to hold a knife, her hands steady over mine, her patience endless. And on storm-tossed nights, she would sit beside my bed, one hand wrapped firmly around mine while thunder rattled the panes and shook the world.My sister.The only family I had ever trusted.I stepped deeper into the courtyard, boots scuffing across worn flagstones chilled by morning dew. Shadows gathered in the corners, threading between the stone arches and the hunched, watching figures.“How do you know?” My voice cut throug

MaeveThe walls trembled, dust sifting from the ancient stones as if the fortress itself shuddered beneath the weight of the truth.Ronan stood, golden eyes watching me with an intensity that bordered on pain. “Maeve.”“Don’t.” My voice was sharp, brittle. I took a step back.He stopped. For once, he listened, no argument, no insistence.My gaze dropped to the bowl containing Mara’s blood. The Cross mark hovered above it, red and ordinary, a symbol that had once meant everything to me.Then I looked at my own bowl.The crown, flanked by two wolves, burned so bright I had to squint against its light. An ancient truth, revealed at last.“Mara knew,” I whispered, the words tearing at my insides.“Yes,” Elowen said quietly.The blankness within me shattered. Pain flooded in, sharp and all-consuming. Mara knew. Every time she’d called me sister, every secret we’d shared, every whispered promise that we were the last Cross women alive, it had all been built on a lie.Or perhaps not a lie. M

Maeve“They want me home,” I echoed, tasting the words, “but they’re angry that Ronan found me?”The prisoner’s mouth curled, but there was no humor in it. “You were hidden for a reason.”“From the Council?” I asked, barely above a whisper.His gaze slid to Ronan, then back to me. “From everyone. Especially the Caines.”Ronan’s arm tightened around my waist, a silent warning. “Choose your next words carefully,” he murmured, his voice ice-cold.The prisoner looked almost entertained by the threat. “Your ancestors are part of the reason the Silver Crown vanished. Some worshipped their mates. Others feared them. A woman capable of bringing a Sovereign Alpha to his knees was comforting when she loved him…” His gaze sharpened on me. “And terrifying when she didn’t.”I straightened my shoulders. “I already said I would never take his choices from him.”“You may believe that.”“I know it.”“For now.”Silver glimmered beneath my skin, the bond sparking with warning.Ronan stepped forward, but

MaeveThe Caine pack house did not welcome me.It watched me.Every window seemed filled with shadows. Every stone held the weight of someone who had died there. Wolves gathered along the courtyard, lining the steps and balconies in thick, silent rows.No one cheered when Ronan rode through the gates. No one bowed when I followed.Their eyes moved over me instead. My face. My silver eyes. The faint glow beneath my skin. The resemblance to Mara.Some looked frightened. Others looked furious.One woman clutched a small boy against her side as though I might tear him from her arms. An older wolf beside her stared at me with such naked hatred that my own wolf recoiled.Ronan felt it. His dominance spread instinctively, a warning pressing across the courtyard.Several wolves lowered their heads.The woman did not.Her eyes remained locked on me. “One Cross woman slaughtered this house,” she said. “Now another arrives expecting us to kneel.”The words cut through the courtyard.Cassian swor