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Comrade 98

Comrade 98

The moon was high, bleeding silver across the treetops, casting long shadows over the forest floor. Everything was too quiet. No birds. No wind. Just silence.

Sylvester stood behind Eva, his breath cold against the back of her neck. She felt him before she saw him. Her skin prickled, heart racing as she turned to face him.

“Don’t come any closer,” she warned, voice trembling.

Sylvester’s expression was unreadable. There was no smirk this time, no arrogance. Just intensity. “You should have left with me at the lake.”

“I never would,” she snapped, stepping back. “You think I’d abandon my pack? My sister? My children?”

“I think,” he said softly, “you’re not strong enough to carry both light and darkness alone. But with me, you could be.”

He took another step, and Eva’s wolf screamed inside her to run. But she was frozen, torn between fear and fury.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

Sylvester’s eyes glowed a deep crimson. “You already carry my blood, Eva. Now, let me bind it.”

She spun around to shift, but he was faster. His hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her toward him. In one swift, brutal movement, his fangs sank into the soft skin of her shoulder.

Pain exploded through her.

She screamed—raw, broken, animalistic. The mark burned like fire, spreading down her spine, through her veins, turning every breath into agony. Her knees gave out, and she collapsed against him.

He held her for a moment, whispering something she couldn’t understand through the fog of pain.

Then he was gone.

Leaves stirred, the air shifted, and the world went dark.

Max found her minutes later.

He’d followed her scent, racing through the trees, his wolf snarling with fear. When he saw her lying in a patch of moonlight, motionless, something inside him shattered.

“Eva!” he cried, falling to his knees beside her.

Her face was pale. Her breathing shallow. And blood—her blood—soaked through her shirt near her shoulder.

“No, no, no…” Max pressed his hand against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, his voice trembling. “Stay with me. Please, stay with me.”

Her lashes fluttered. She let out a small, pained sound.

Then her eyes flew open and she screamed.

“Max!” she gasped, reaching for him blindly, her whole body shaking. “Max—he—he bit me.”

Max pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as she cried.

“He marked me,” she whispered, voice breaking. “He marked what wasn’t his.”

Max’s jaw clenched, rage building inside him until it threatened to explode. He looked at the wound again. It wasn’t just a bite. It pulsed with dark energy—an unnatural bond, something between a mate mark and a curse. It wasn’t love. It was control.

“I’ll kill him,” Max said quietly.

Eva sobbed into his chest. “I tried to stop him. I told him no. He didn’t listen. He… he said I was already his.”

Max gently pulled back to look at her. His hand brushed her cheek, and she leaned into his touch like it was the only thing grounding her.

“You’re not his,” Max said. “You were never his. You’re mine.”

“But this mark,” she whispered. “I can feel it. Like a shadow inside me. Like he’s watching.”

Max’s eyes burned gold. “Then I’ll rip that mark off him piece by piece.”

Eva stared at him, her breathing uneven, her heart pounding wildly against her chest.

“How?” she asked. “How do we fight something that’s already inside me?”

Max cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears. “We fight it together. You’re not alone. Not now, not ever.”

“But the bond—”

“Is a lie,” Max cut in. “It’s not a true mate mark. It wasn’t given with love. It was forced. That makes it weak. And I swear, Eva, I’ll destroy every piece of him that touched you.”

She nodded slowly, but her eyes still held fear.

“I feel broken,” she whispered.

“You’re not,” Max said firmly. “You’re hurt. But you’re not broken. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.”

She closed her eyes, taking in the warmth of his voice. “I don’t want to feel him inside me.”

Max pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Then we burn the bond out. I’ll call the witches. The elders. Anyone who can help.”

Eva looked down at her hands, blood still staining her fingers. “He wants the child. The vampire one. That’s why he marked me. He thinks if I’m his, so is the baby.”

“Then he’s even more of a fool than I thought,” Max growled. “Because no child of yours will ever belong to him.”

Eva clutched his shirt, holding him tightly. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” he whispered. “I’ll protect them both. No matter what it costs me.”

Eva leaned against him, exhausted. The bond pulsed again—faint, like a distant heartbeat. But she held tighter to Max.

Because even though the darkness had touched her, it hadn’t taken her.

Not yet.

And Max wouldn’t let it.

“Then I’ll rip that mark off him piece by piece.”

Comrade

Comrade

Score 9.9
Status: Ongoing Type:
Comrade Summary & Review: Comrade

Princess Evangeline of Morwyn sat in the quiet waiting room of the royal physician’s office, her mind a whirlwind of fear and fragile hope. The grand palace, bathed in soft afternoon light, felt both like a home and a cage. She had been married to Crown Prince Sebastian of Valdris for three years, but their union was nothing more than a political arrangement—an alliance forged by their fathers to secure peace between their lands.

From the very beginning, Sebastian made it clear that his marriage to Evangeline was purely out of duty, not affection. They slept in separate chambers, exchanged only polite words in public, and maintained a cold civility that masked the emptiness beneath. Evangeline had once dreamed that time might change things, that she might earn his heart, but years of distance had buried that hope deep inside her.

Recently, however, her body had begun to change. She felt nauseated in the mornings, dizzy, and uncommonly tired. These signs, though subtle, stirred a small flame of longing within her—a desperate wish that she might finally be carrying his child. Perhaps, she thought, a baby could soften Sebastian’s heart and give meaning to their lifeless marriage.

When the physician, Master Aldrich, appeared at the doorway, his kind smile gave her both comfort and dread. He led her into his study, a cozy room filled with the scent of herbs, the warmth of a crackling fire, and shelves of ancient medical texts. Evangeline sat nervously as the old man took a sealed parchment from his desk.

With a gentle voice, Master Aldrich delivered the news that would change everything: “Your Highness, I’m delighted to tell you that you are indeed expecting.”

Evangeline’s breath caught in her throat. Her trembling hands broke the royal seal and scanned the words written neatly across the parchment. Pregnant. She was truly with child. Before she could even absorb the shock, Master Aldrich continued, beaming with joy—she was not carrying just one baby, but twins.

The revelation sent a rush of emotion through her—relief, disbelief, joy. Twins! Two heirs for the royal family. The weight of that realization made her dizzy, but it also filled her with warmth and purpose. For the first time in years, she smiled with genuine happiness. Perhaps this was the miracle she needed to mend what had long been broken.

In that moment, she imagined Sebastian’s face lighting up with pride and excitement. She pictured him embracing her, maybe even thanking her. The thought filled her with renewed courage. She thanked Master Aldrich graciously and insisted that she would tell Sebastian the news herself. This moment, she decided, must belong to them alone.

Walking through the grand marble corridors of the palace, Evangeline’s heart felt light for the first time in years. Servants bowed as she passed, but she hardly noticed them—her mind was focused only on Sebastian and the life growing inside her. She wanted to see him, to share the joy, to believe that maybe, just maybe, love could still bloom between them.

As she approached the door of Sebastian’s private study, her steps quickened. She called out softly, “Sebastian! My lord, I have the most wonderful news to—”

But her voice faltered.

Through the half-open door, Evangeline froze at the sight before her. Her husband stood with Lady Cordelia Ashworth, daughter of the Duke of Greymont, wrapped in his arms. The woman’s fiery red hair cascaded over Sebastian’s shoulders as he held her close. Evangeline’s heart stopped when she saw him tilt Cordelia’s chin upward and press his lips to hers—a tender, passionate kiss filled with the warmth and love she had begged the heavens for all these years.

It was everything she had ever wanted—and it wasn’t hers.

For a long, unbearable second, Evangeline could only stare. The parchment with her pregnancy confirmation still trembled in her hand. Then, in a broken whisper, she said his name: “Sebastian…”

The Crown Prince turned sharply, surprise flashing across his features before being quickly masked by his usual calm. Cordelia paled and stepped back, though Sebastian’s arm lingered protectively around her waist.

“Evangeline,” he said evenly, as though she were a stranger interrupting him, “what brings you here?”

Her throat tightened. She forced herself to stand tall, even as tears burned behind her eyes. “I… I live here,” she managed, her voice quivering. “I’m your wife.”

Sebastian’s cold gaze didn’t soften. “Is there something you need?” he asked, the same way he might address a court official.

Something inside Evangeline broke. Just minutes ago, she had been radiant with hope, ready to tell him that she carried his children—the future of his line. But now, staring at the indifference in his eyes and the woman in his arms, she realized the truth she had avoided for too long.

He would never love her. Not even their unborn children could change that.

A calmness settled over her—a cold, regal resolve that masked the chaos in her chest. Straightening her shoulders, Evangeline met his gaze with all the dignity her title demanded.

“Yes, my lord,” she said clearly. “There is something I need.”

Sebastian raised a brow, perhaps expecting her to plead, to cry, to beg for an explanation. Instead, she spoke words that shattered the silence of the study.

“I want an annulment.”

Both Sebastian and Cordelia froze. The shock in their eyes was almost satisfying. Cordelia gasped aloud, pressing a hand to her mouth, while Sebastian’s expression turned dark and unreadable.

“What did you say?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

Evangeline’s chin lifted higher. Her hands no longer trembled. “You heard me perfectly,” she said. “I want our marriage annulled.”

In that instant, the timid princess who had once waited for scraps of affection was gone. What remained was a woman who had found her strength—not through her husband’s love, but through the pain he had caused.

Inside, she knew she carried the next heirs of the throne—his heirs—but she would not allow that to bind her to a man who treated her like a political pawn. She would raise her children with dignity, even if she had to walk away from the palace to do it.

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the crackle of the fireplace and the unspoken consequences of her declaration. But Evangeline didn’t wait for a reply. Gathering her skirts, she turned toward the door, her heart broken yet unburdened.

Her steps echoed through the marble halls as she walked away from the man who had never seen her—and toward the freedom she was finally claiming for herself.

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