All Chapters of Forced to Marry the Wicked Werewolf Prince: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

[ELARA]“Please, don’t eat that,” I manage to choke out, my stomach turning in revolt as my gaze shifts from the plate to Alec's frail form. "I’m so sorry," I murmur, my remorse evident though none of this is my doing.A surge of anger courses through me, directed at Alina. Every fiber of my being despises her. I clench my teeth, restraining curses. She orchestrated this, fully aware of the consequences. If only Alec had still been in Mistral Hollow, none of this tragedy would unfold. But she manipulated Alpha Zander into assigning him as my personal guard.Not only am I being punished for never doing anything wrong, so is Alec.He still keeps his head bowed between folded knees. I cautiously approach, avoiding the cold touch of silver bars, and notice eerie black swirls on his bare back It’s not something I’ve seen before on him and I’ve seen him more naked than this several times. “What is that?” I ask out loud without intending to do so. “Oh, here you are,” a voice interrupts my

[ELARA] Ruelle finds me just as I’m about to leave my quarters to visit Alec and put an end to his suffering. “Elara,” she greets me cheerfully, extending her arms. For a moment I hesitate — the silver dagger is still in my hand but she hasn’t noticed it yet. I discreetly slide it up my sleeve and wrap the other arm around her. “I’m sorry for my brother’s behavior.” She’s now changed into a sheer beige gown held at the shoulders with pins shaped in the form of werewolves. I don’t know what metal it is, but it looks like silver. “Has he always been like that?” I ask her as she guides me back into the quarters. “I’m sure he was dropped on his head as a baby. Or a mage cursed him to always only say stupid shit. But he's always been charming I suppose, considering the number of woman that practically fall on his feet. He won his first battle against a rebel pack in Tassel at fourteen after all,” she answers, shrugging. Her blue eyes twinkle in the scant light that lights the chamber.

[ELARA] As I enter the grand courtroom, the air is thick with the stench of wealth and arrogance. The room is adorned with intricate tapestries depicting scenes of valor and conquest, and the polished marble floor reflects the golden light emanating from the crystal chandeliers above. They’re the colour of Magnus’ eyes. The ones that I hate now, more than anything in the world. Courtiers and advisors in their finest attire fill the space, engaged in hushed conversations and exchanging formal greetings. Ruelle’s grip on my arm tightens. It’s meant to reassure me but all it does is push me further in a state of restlessness. As I make my way through the crowd, I catch glimpses of familiar faces, people I met at my wedding. Some of them presented me with gifts while they complimented the hospitality of my pack. These were the same people that mocked me later at the banquet by the riverside. Their eyes betray their smiles, revealing their true feelings as they observe the mysterious out

[ELARA] I dismount from the horse and land firmly on my feet. Magnus looks at me and nods, signaling for me to follow him. We’re away from the palace, about half a mile away, I presume, as I look back at it from a distance. We walk a few steps, surrounded by trees so high that I crane my neck trying to find their crowns. Night is starting to fall, the sky taking on a sinister shade of gray streaked with red. We stop at a lone hut standing upright in a clearing. It’s too small to contain anything significant inside. But when Magnus actually throws the door open, I see a trapdoor in the floor. It opens with a creak, revealing a series of stairs. I follow Magnus quietly, too intrigued to speak. It’s not long before we’re faced with a weird-looking door. Morgana is the first person I spot when the intricate locks on the gilded door click and twist, before it swings backward to reveal what I presume is a witch’s den. I wonder how long she has been staying here to set up all of this.

[MAGNUS] ‘Fuck you, Magnus.’ I can’t get it out of my head. I just can’t. The council meeting has been going on for the last few minutes, but I find myself zoning out every few seconds. My mind keeps recalling Elara’s reaction when she entered my chamber earlier this morning. While Morgana was riding on top of me. Nothing could’ve prepared me for that. Not for when she entered. And definitely not for how she reacted. ‘Fuck you, Magnus,’ she mumbled, her voice too quiet due to the shock. After that she sprinted out and I haven’t seen her since—she wasn’t in my old chambers, or with Ruelle. That’s probably a good thing because I don’t know what I’m going to say to her. Morgana laughed about it; somehow it aroused her further. But there was no way I was going to continue. I asked her to leave right then—the disappointment on her face was something I couldn’t miss. Alistair is not at fault, I knew that before he even tried to explain himself. Elara is stubborn. She’ll do what