All Chapters of Marked by fate: Chapter 241 - Chapter 250

Zach's POVLucas, Hugo, and Austin appear from the study and join us in the hall to greet the others.In the lead are the Night Howlers. Brant and his dad. Arlo and his dad. They climb out of their cars and greet us all, their faces solemn."How are you, man?" Arlo asks as he pulls me into a hug.I grunt. I can't actually put what I am into words right now."Better than Max," is all I can manage.Arlo’s face goes grim as he pulls back. He claps me on the shoulder before moving on to greet the others.Alpha Digby from Yellowstone is next, with his Beta, Jack. We don’t know them well. Digby is in his late twenties, and we’ve never really socialised beyond pack functions. But because Luna Alison is his aunt, they’re close allies.We shake hands, and they follow the others inside.Next is Lincoln and his unit. Shadow isn’t one of our allies, but Lincoln is, and I know he’ll help in any way he can. He hugs me as soon as he reaches me, and I feel his body trembling slightly."We’ll find her

Zahra's POVA clink of keys sounds above, followed by the scrape of metal. My attention snaps towards the only entrance. Across the room, someone in another cage whispers prayers under her breath, the words broken and desperate, as if faith is the only thing the bars can’t take from her.I lean forward as much as my restraints allow and peer through the bars, staring at the door set into the far wall. the thin strip of corridor light is obscured by the guard, as the door swings open.A waft of food drifts down first, and my stomach betrays me with a low, hungry rumble. Then comes the familiar squeak of a trolley wheel, the sound echoing off stone as its pushed through the door.I squint through the darkness, my ruined eyes struggling to make out which guard it is today.Short, dirty-blonde hair. Beard.I don’t recognise him. All the others are clean-shaven. Shit. This one is an unknown entity.I’ve learnt the usual ones by now.Pot Belly is cruel and, more often than not, will throw y

Cole's POVI stride along the dark corridor. The storm has been battering the castle for two days now, high winds and sleet driving against the windows and making it feel like twilight in the middle of the day. There are no sconces on this stretch, so it feels even darker.This old castle is surprisingly comfortable. When our scouts found it, I was sceptical. It’s literally in the middle of nowhere, buried in forest, with no roads and no other buildings for miles. It’s been abandoned for Goddess knows how long and needed a lot of repairs. There was barely a pane of glass left, and the roof was half-collapsed in places, but beyond that it didn’t need too much.Yeah, the accommodations are a far cry from what I’m used to, but it’s fairly comfortable and mostly dry. When the fires are lit, it’s even almost warm.But the main thing is that it’s large. It can house a lot of us, and it’s completely off-grid. Even better, it’s close to the coven.I reach the top of the narrow stone steps and

Zahra's POV“No, no, please no.”“Shut up, bitch.”The sting of the blow echoes across my own face like I’m the one who’s been hit. Corrine whimpers beside me as Beardy hovers over her. The clink of his belt jingles as he pants heavily, too close, too eager. The stench of him is so strong that, even over the rot and sweat of the cage, I can smell him. It sits in the back of my throat like poison.Corrine’s terrified eyes flit to mine. I hold them.I can’t look away. I can’t abandon her now.We know how this goes. It’s become routine. A regular occurrence. Beardy rapes one girl every night, while the rest of us are forced to watch and listen. Corrine has already been subjected to this twice.The hay beneath us scratches and crackles when she shifts, dry stalks snapping under her weight. Chains scrape. Metal bites stone. The sound is small, but in the darkness, it feels enormous, as if the dungeon has nothing else to do but listen.A tear gathers at the corner of her eye and spills over

Zarha's POVMy body is trembling so hard that they struggle to chain my collar back to the wall. When the metal bites cold against my throat, I cannot stop the sound that claws its way out of my chest. It is not even a sob, just air breaking because my body does not know what else to do.“Hold her still,” someone orders.Hands clamp down on my shoulders. Another grip forces my chin up, and the movement detonates pain through my face so violently that my vision blanks at the edges. My jaw screams. My cheekbone feels as if it is collapsing in on itself. I try to pull away, but the collar chain snaps tight and the world tilts.Then the blow lands.It is not a slap and it is not a warning. It is a sharp, punishing hit that explodes behind my eye, and the pain is so complete it wipes everything clean.I black out.When I come back, it is with a gasp, my head lolling, saliva and blood warm at the corner of my mouth. My vision swims as if the air itself has turned to water. The straw beneath