All Chapters of Kidnapped By The Lycan Prince : Chapter 121 - Chapter 128

The grand hall of the estate is eerily silent, save for the steady click of my father’s polished shoes against the marble floor. He stands in front of me, arms crossed, exuding the usual 'I-am-your-father-and-you-will-listen-to-me' energy. My mother is beside him, a perfectly composed ice sculpture in a designer dress, her sharp grey eyes—our sharp grey eyes—assessing me with the usual judgment."You're in charge while we're gone," my father announces, his voice firm and unyielding, as if he hasn’t already said this a hundred times.I don’t respond immediately, my hands shoved into the pockets of my tailored jacket. Instead, I glance out the tall windows, where the late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the estate grounds. The weight of his words settles over me, heavy and familiar. "I’m aware," I finally say, my tone low and measured.He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with my lack of enthusiasm. "This isn’t a joke, Caspian. The rogues are becoming bolder. They’re not

The kitchen is hot, steam rising from the pots on the stove and clinging to my skin like a second layer. My arms ache from carrying the pail of milk, the weight of it pulling at my shoulders. I’m not built for this—not like them. My human body is weak compared to theirs, and the cook never lets me forget it.“Hurry up, girl!” she snaps, her voice sharp as a whip. “You’re slower than a snail in winter. What’s taking you so long?”I bite my tongue, forcing myself not to respond. She’s been scolding me all morning, even though I’ve been on my feet since dawn, scrubbing floors, peeling vegetables, and hauling supplies. Nothing I do is ever enough for her. “I’m sorry,” I mutter, setting the pail down with a thud. My hands are trembling, and I can feel the blisters forming on my palms. “I’ll try to be faster.”“Try?” she scoffs, her hands on her hips. “You should be doing, not trying. Useless, that’s what you are. A human in a wolf’s world. What good are you?”I flinch at her words, but

The dining hall hums with the clinking of silverware and the low murmur of conversation. The long wooden table is overflowing with roasted meats, steaming vegetables, and goblets of deep red wine that glisten under the flickering chandelier light. The air smells of rosemary and thyme, mingling with the faint metallic tang of the silverware. I move quietly around the table, refilling glasses and serving plates, trying to stay invisible. It’s a skill I’ve perfected over the years—being unseen, unheard. But tonight, my hands tremble, my thoughts a chaotic mess.At the head of the table, Alpha Rowan, my uncle, commands attention effortlessly. His hard golden eyes sweep over the council members as he discusses pack resources, his deep voice cutting through the room like a blade. He’s dressed in his usual dark tunic, the fabric tailored to perfection, the golden crest of Moonhaven embroidered on his chest. He looks every bit the Alpha, every bit the man who holds my fate in his hands.

The scent of blood lingers thick in the air, mixing with the damp earth beneath my boots. The moon barely cuts through the thick canopy of trees, casting long shadows over the fallen bodies. Their lifeless forms lie sprawled across the ground, the fight drained from them. It was over fast—too fast. Three rogues, dead before they even had a chance to scream. It’s not satisfying. It’s just... work.Ethan nudges one of the corpses with his boot, his expression bored. "Well, that was disappointing," he mutters, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was hoping they’d at least put up a decent fight. Maybe throw a punch or two. But no, they just flopped over like dead fish. Pathetic."I wipe the blood off my blade, watching as the crimson soaks into the dirt. The forest is quiet now, the only sound the rustle of leaves in the wind. "They weren’t fighters," I say, my voice even. "Just scouts. Testing the borders. Seeing how far they could push before we pushed back."Ethan scoffs, stepping