Chapter 5

Nana manages to drag herself from the bed, completely drained from the pain and tears. Her entire body aches, sore and weak. Her eyes are swollen, her skin torn from the chains. Every breath feels like a struggle.

She knows she needs to wash up. Though she is experiencing the worst pain that could ever be imaginable, all she looks forward to is a warm water bath.

Finally, she gets up, hobbles to the bathroom, and remains standing under the shower as water slowly washes over the many bruises on her body.

Lack of strength makes her simply splash water on her face and lean against the wall. The slightest of movements brings severe shooting pains throughout her entire body.

Her hands are slow, as she washes the stains of blood that were from the previous night. The signs of the cuts and lashes are distinctly visible, and even the gentlest touch makes her wince.

Each wound feels as if the pain is imprinted on her skin, and is a constant reminder of the torture she has had to go through.

When her hand passes over the exposed part of her shoulder, she automatically touches her neck, to wipe the blood. But as soon as her fingers make contact with the area, a peculiar feeling washes over her. Heat starts right at her neck flows down toward her hips and gathers in her lower part. It is sensual and kindles an astonishing feeling.

She panics, that catches her breath in her throat. What was that? She then runs her fingers over the spot once more, and gasping, she exhales a small moan. The feeling is so strong, so shocking. It feels… sensitive.

Her eyes dart to the mirror on the wall, her heart racing. Slowly, she leans closer, and the moment she sees it, her stomach drops.

A bite mark.

Not just any bite mark—a mate bond mark.

Nana’s heart pounds as she stares at the imprint on her neck. It wasn’t there before. She knows it wasn’t.

‘Marco?’ She thinks, her mind spinning in confusion.

Did Marco mark me? If Marco had marked her without accepting or rejecting her, it would mean her life would become even more unbearable than it already is. The cruelty, the torment—it would only get worse.

But Marco never touched her like that. He never even looked at her with affection, let alone claim her as his mate.

Her mind races, and suddenly, a memory flashes before her eyes—the cave, the Lycan Prince. He bit her there, right on that very spot. At the time, she had thought he was drinking her blood, but now… realization hits her like a cold wave.

He wasn’t just biting her—he was marking her.

Nana gasps, staggering backward, her hand shaking. She bumps into the sink, sending a cup crashing to the floor.

“Nana, are you okay?” Felisha, her maid, rushes into the bathroom, her voice filled with concern.

Nana’s heart skips a beat. “Yes… yes, I’m fine,” she lies quickly, turning her body away and covering the mark with her hand. Her voice trembles as she tries to keep her panic hidden.

After a moment of scanning Nana’s face, Felisha hesitates but nods and leaves the room quietly.

As soon as Felisha exits, Nana’s legs give way, and she leans on the wall with her hand forcefully pressing on the area. Panic floods her chest.

She’s marked.

By the Lycan Prince.

While still mated to Marco.

Terror claws at her insides as the reality of her situation sinks in. If Marco or anyone else finds out, she’ll be dead. The punishment for betraying the Alpha’s mate bond would be severe—he would make sure she suffered even more than she already had.

And with the chaos, she’s already caused by freeing the Lycan Prince, her life is hanging by a thread.

Meanwhile, that morning, Marco, and his Beta had set off with his warriors in search of the Lycan Prince, Lowell. Time wasn’t on their side. Marco knew exactly what he was up against.

The longer he allowed Lowell to roam freely within his pack's territory, the more danger he faced. Marco couldn’t afford to lose more warriors or risk further chaos. His enemy was currently wounded, but not as much as he had hoped.

The bullets they used were laced with silver powder, which had slowed Lowell’s healing. Otherwise, he would have regenerated within moments, and that was what terrified Marco the most.

“That monster’s healing ability is beyond anything I’ve ever seen,” Marco mutters under his breath, more to himself than to Stephen, who is walking beside him through the dense forest.

Stephen nods, knowing exactly what his Alpha is thinking. “For him to die, we’d need to pierce his heart with a silver arrow or spear. Anything less, and we’ll just keep losing men.”

Marco’s eyes narrow as he scans the surroundings. “I can’t even perceive his scent anymore. He’s moving too fast or masking his scent somehow. We’ll need to split up. Cover more ground.”

Stephen quickly divides the warriors into smaller groups, giving them clear instructions. “Blow the alarm if you find any trace of him.”

The silence in the woods is eerie as they snake through the foliage. Dry leaves shudder beneath their shoes only to be swept over by a faraway breeze and interspersed with some birds’ cries.

One could cut through the tension like a knife. Everyone is aware that Lowell may be anywhere around, but nobody can predict his next move or location.

Minutes pass, then hours, and still nothing. Just as Marco begins to wonder if their efforts are in vain, a blood-curdling scream tears through the air.

“Alpha!” One of the warriors’ voices shouts through the mind link. Marco’s heart pounds as he and his team race in the direction of the cry, moving swiftly through the trees.

However, they find a horrible scene upon arriving: fallen bodies with their chests torn open and their hearts missing. The air is heavy with the smell of blood, slightly mixed with death and fear.

Marco shivers as he stares at the gruesome scene. He clenches his fists. Lowell had fed again, making himself even stronger.

Stephen arrives moments later, his face pale. “Their hearts… he took their hearts.”

“He’s getting stronger,” Marco says, his voice tight with anger. “We can’t keep losing men like this.”

“Alpha,” Stephen speaks through the mind link, keeping his voice steady, but Marco can sense the underlying worry. “This is bad. If he keeps feeding like this…”

“I know,” Marco snaps, but not at Stephen. He’s furious at the situation, at the helplessness he feels. “He’s making it impossible for us to track him down.”

“This is madness,” Stephen agrees. “What do we do now?”

Marco’s mind races as he surveys the carnage. “Everyone needs to fall back,” he says finally, his voice grim.

“Outrightly going after him like this isn’t working. He’s fed enough to become stronger than before. We need more information—a way to weaken him.”

Stephen’s eyes flicker with concern. “A weakness? But the Lycan Prince is nearly invincible. What could possibly—”

“There’s something,” Marco cuts him off, “There has to be something. Every beast has a weakness. We need to return to the archives, to the ancient texts. Maybe there’s something we’ve overlooked.”

The frustration in Marco’s voice is clear. He can feel Lowell’s power growing, and every minute that passes means more lives at risk.

“Retreat?” Stephen says, almost in disbelief. “But if we let him go now…”

“We have no choice,” Marco snaps. “If we keep going like this, he’ll kill all of us one by one. We need a plan—one that works.”

Stephen hesitates for a moment, then nods. “I’ll send the message.”

Marco watches as Stephen mind-links the rest of the warriors, ordering them to pull back. He knows it’s the only choice. They can’t continue this hunt blindly.

But as much as he hates to admit it, Marco knows that brute force isn’t the solution this time. Lowell was too powerful to be defeated through sheer strength alone. They needed a weakness—something to give them the upper hand.