All Chapters of Betrayed, But Redeemed.: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

MARCELLUS’S POV The door slammed shut behind me, echoing down the hall like a judge’s gavel. My hands curled into fists at my sides as I stalked away from Raphael, my breaths ragged, my chest heaving. I could still taste him, the salt of his skin, the heat of his lips pressed against mine. Every nerve in my body was alive, buzzing with emotions I couldn’t contain. Anger. Desire. Guilt. All tangled together, clawing at my sanity. I didn’t stop until I reached my quarters. The heavy oak door creaked as I shoved it open, the familiar scent of cedar and leather wrapping around me like a suffocating shroud. The room felt too small, too quiet. Too full of ghosts. I leaned back against the door, sliding down until I sat on the floor, my head in my hands. My fingers clawed through my hair as I tried to breathe, tried to think, but all I could see was Raphael’s face. His sharp jawline, the intensity in his eyes, the vulnerability hidden beneath the mask he always wore. And Fiona. Her fi

FIONA'S POV. The thought of Marcellus being forced into this decision stirred a mix of emotions in me: anger, sadness, and a sliver of hope. But it wasn’t enough to silence the doubt gnawing at me. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.” Darla leaned closer, her gaze fierce. “You are strong enough, Fiona. You’ve survived things most people couldn’t even imagine. Don’t let this break you. Not yet.” Before I could respond, a commotion outside the door broke the tense silence. Maya turned, her expression wary. “What’s going on?” The door burst open, and another maid rushed in, her face flushed with urgency. “News from the council meeting,” she panted, her words tumbling over each other. “The announcement is imminent. Marcellus is on his way back to the pack house.” My stomach churned, a sickening mix of anticipation and dread. Darla rose to her feet, her expression unreadable. “Fiona, you need to prepare yourself. W

MARCELLUS’ POV.The room was quiet, far too quiet for my liking. I stood near the window, staring out into the darkness, my mind far from the elaborate coronation that had just concluded. The celebration continued downstairs—laughter, music, and the occasional howl breaking through the silence—but it all grated on my nerves. Lena sat on the bed behind me, her voice breaking through the stillness. “Marcellus, you haven’t said a word since the ceremony. Aren’t you happy?” Happy? The word felt foreign, almost ridiculous. I turned slightly, catching her gaze. She was beautiful—every inch of her was designed to impress. Her dark hair was still pinned up from the ceremony, her crimson gown shimmering in the dim light. Any man would be lucky to have her. But I wasn’t any man, and luck had nothing to do with this arrangement. “Of course,” I said curtly, my voice devoid of emotion. “The pack needed a Luna. Now they have one.” Lena frowned, her perfectly painted lips pressing into a thi

FIONA'S POV. The sun spilled through the tall windows of the dining hall, its warm light a sharp contrast to the icy tension I felt in my chest as I entered. My footsteps faltered at the threshold. The room was alive with the hum of laughter and chatter, the clinking of silverware on porcelain filling the space like a carefully orchestrated melody. All eyes seemed to land on me the moment I stepped inside, though no one addressed me outright. Instead, they exchanged knowing glances, their whispers just loud enough to reach my ears. “Why is she even here?” one of the mistresses asked, arching up her eyebrows as she spoke. “She doesn’t belong in this pack.” another one had deadpanned, I recalled her being one of the women who held my head into a bowl my first night here…yes, Tasha, that was her name “Such a pity… poor human.” Thelma asserted, rolling her eyes in my direction, I knew her too well after all she had been the one to poison me from the very beginning. The sting of th

MARCELLUS’ POV. The council room was filled with noises, The table was filled with council members—my Beta Raymond, elders from the neighboring packs, and Lena, seated smugly at the far end, her fingers tapping slowly against the polished wood. She was gloating in her new role as Luna, but it did nothing to ease the tension twisting in my chest. “Alpha Marcellus,” one of the elders said, drawing my attention. His name was Elder Halric, a stern wolf with sharp eyes that never missed a thing. “The rogue attacks on the western borders have increased. We’ve lost two patrols this month alone.” I nodded, sitting up straighter. “What’s the status of our forces there?” Raymond cleared his throat. “We’ve doubled patrols and tightened our defense. However, it’s clear that the rogues are organizing. This isn’t a random scattering of attacks—it’s calculated.” “Do you suspect leadership among them?” Elder Halric asked. “It’s possible,” Raymond replied. “But without solid intelligence, i