Mated to the Mad Lord-Chapter 50: Two Dead Lovebirds

"Can you cut it out?" Mallory snapped, her tone sharp as she hurriedly tied her hair back into a bun. Her glare pierced the culprit responsible for the mess—a grin plastered across his face as he leaned against the watchtower’s railing.

"Come on, Mallory! A kiss isn’t enough!" Xana teased, his tone playful, utterly unfazed by her irritation.

"Shut up, Xana! You’re going to get us killed!" Mallory hissed, shoving his arm aside as she stepped out of the watchtower. Her sharp retort cut through the silence of the night, her frustration bubbling over.

Her gaze wandered to the distant watchtowers, quiet and still under the moonlight. She scanned the area, her sharp eyes searching for anything unusual. The silence, though comforting to Xana, only made Mallory uneasy.

Before her focus could settle, an arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back.

"Xana!" she growled, slapping his arm away with a force that would’ve sent anyone else stumbling.

He chuckled, unfazed, and wrapped both arms around her again. His breath brushed against her ear as he murmured, "Relax. The night is quiet. If there was trouble, the guards at the walls would’ve lit the flares to warn us."

Despite his words, Mallory stiffened, her instincts urging caution. But Xana, ever the carefree soul, leaned in to press a kiss to her neck, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

"I can’t wait for us to get married," he said, his tone shifting to one of longing. "It’s bad enough that I’m assigned here. I don’t want you working in a place like this anymore."

Mallory folded her arms across her chest, a stubborn look flashing in her eyes. "I can take care of myself," she replied, turning her cheek away just as Xana leaned in for another kiss.

Undeterred, he grinned and shifted his attention to her ear, his tongue darting out to lick it like a mischievous pup.

"Wha-what are you—" Mallory sputtered, pushing against him.

"Licking you!" he said with a boyish grin, his laughter echoing softly. He rubbed his cheek against hers, his antics relentless.

"You’re heavy! Get—" she began, but the words died in her throat when Xana suddenly stilled.

"I LOVE YOU," he said, the playful tone in his voice replaced with a sincerity that sent Mallory reeling. She froze, her body stiffening as she processed his words.

He repeated it, his hand rising to gently cup her face. "I love you, Mallory," Xana said again, his golden eyes shining with warmth.

Her lips parted, but no words came. She could feel her cheeks warming under his gaze, the world around them fading away.

"Xana, you really—" she started, her voice faltering as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against hers. His eyes searched hers, a silent plea for her to say it back.

"Xana, I—"

Her words were cut off by a sharp, wet gasp.

Xana’s body jerked violently before freezing, his mouth falling open in shock. His wide eyes dropped to his chest, and Mallory followed his gaze.

Her heart plummeted.

A bloodied silver knife was embedded in his chest, right where his heart should be. Blood seeped from the wound, staining his shirt as red rivulets trickled from the corners of his mouth.

Mallory felt like her legs had been nailed to the ground. Her mind screamed at her to move, but her body wouldn’t obey.

Then, with a surge of rage and anguish, she shifted into motion, her muscles tensing as she prepared to transform into her wolf. Tears blurred her vision as she turned her gaze toward the shadowy figure behind Xana, anger boiling in her veins.

I didn’t even sense a thing!

Her trembling hands moved to her waist, pulling her gun free in one fluid motion. She fired off several rounds, her ears ringing as the bullets tore through the air. The figure darted away, too quick for her to catch.

"Xana!" she cried, her voice breaking as she dropped to her knees beside him. Blood pooled beneath him, and his breaths came in short, labored gasps.

"Ma-Mallory..." Xana rasped, his voice barely audible. "Run... I didn’t even sense the attack."

But Mallory didn’t move. Her hands hovered over the silver knife, hesitant yet desperate. If she pulled it out, there was a slim chance Xana might heal himself. She clung to that hope, no matter how small.

"I won’t leave you," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Her limbs began to shift, her body halfway through transforming into her beast. She planned to carry Xana away, to save him, no matter the cost.

But then she felt it.

A searing pain exploded through her chest, the unmistakable agony of a blade piercing her heart.

She staggered, her transformation halting as her legs gave out beneath her. She collapsed, her blood pooling on the cold ground. The pain was overwhelming, but the betrayal hurt more.

Her wide eyes sought Xana’s, desperate to say the words she’d withheld. "I love you, Xana. Now and—"

Her voice was silenced as a blade plunged into her throat, snuffing out her life in an instant.

Xana’s vision blurred with tears as he watched her fall. His trembling hands reached for her, but he was too weak. His heart ached more than the gaping wound in his chest.

A shadow loomed over him, and Xana’s tear-filled gaze rose to meet the cold, crimson eyes of their attacker.

The man stepped closer, his dark robes brushing against Xana’s blood-soaked body. A golden emblem glinted on his chest—a pair of snakes coiled around twin swords. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

One of the Council Lords. A Pureblood.

"You’re too weak," the Pureblood said with disdain, crouching down to study Xana’s face. "There was probably no reason for me to come here personally."

Xana’s blood boiled with rage, but his body betrayed him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t fight back.

"I’ll kill you..." he whispered, his voice barely a breath.

The Pureblood smirked, rising to his full height. "Kill me from the afterlife, then," he said coolly, lifting his boot and placing it on Xana’s head.

Xana felt the pressure increase, the pain excruciating as the Pureblood crushed his skull with brutal finality.

"Disgusting," the Pureblood muttered, wiping his bloodied boot on the ground. He turned to his subordinates, his voice commanding.

"Kill them all. Make sure to leave traces that point to Lord Vazer," he ordered, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

The other figures moved swiftly, carrying out his command.

As the Pureblood stepped into the shadows, he paused, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Should I make a ruckus now? Killing quietly is so boring."

With that, he vanished, his sights set on the next tower. By the time he was finished, Cain’s werewolf guards would be nothing but corpses, scattered like broken toys. The human ones, he thought with disdain, weren’t even worth his time.