Chapter 5

Sabine's POV

I woke to softness beneath me and pain everywhere else.

My eyes opened slowly, vision blurred at the edges. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar, with dark wood beams crossing high overhead. I blinked and tried to piece together where I was. The last thing I remembered was Evander's voice cutting through the forest, the guards releasing me, and then nothing.

I shifted and agony tore through my body. A gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it. My ribs screamed. My stomach throbbed where the stitches had torn. Even breathing hurt.

"Do not move."

The voice was deep, commanding, and came from somewhere to my right. I turned my head slowly and saw him. Evander sat in a chair by the window, one leg crossed over the other, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. He watched me the way a wolf watches prey, patient and unblinking.

"Where am I?" My voice came out scratchy and weak.

"Nightbane territory," he said simply. "You are under our protection now."

Protection. The word should have brought relief but instead it sent a chill down my spine. I tried to sit up again, ignoring the pain, but my body refused to cooperate. I fell back against the pillows, panting.

"I told you not to move," Evander said without any hint of sympathy.

"I did not ask for your protection," I shot back, each word costing me effort.

His lips twitched, almost a smile but not quite. "You did not have to ask. The moment those guards crossed into my territory with you bound like an animal, you became my responsibility."

Responsibility. Not a guest. Not ally. Responsibility. The distinction was not lost on me.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.

Evander stood and walked toward the bed. He moved with the fluid grace of someone completely comfortable in his own power. When he stopped at the edge of the bed, I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. They were dark gray, cold as winter steel.

"Right now, I want you to heal," he said. "But there is something you should know."

Dread pooled in my stomach. "What?"

"Protection in Nightbane comes with conditions. We placed a claim mark on you while you were unconscious. It is temporary, but binding."

My hand flew to my neck before I could stop myself. My fingers found raised skin, still tender and hot to the touch. Not one mark. Three. Overlapping, deliberate, unmistakable.

Horror crashed over me in waves. "You marked me without my consent?"

"You were dying," Evander said flatly. "The claim stabilizes your condition and signals to any wolf in a hundred mile radius that you are under our protection. Dominic cannot touch you now without declaring war on Nightbane."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to claw the marks off my skin. Instead, tears burned behind my eyes and I forced them back with everything I had.

"You had no right," I whispered.

"I had every right. You crossed into my territory. That makes you mine to protect or mine to kill. I chose protection." His tone suggested I should be grateful.

Sab stirred inside me for the first time in what felt like forever. Her presence was weak but unmistakable, and she was responding to something in this room. The scent. The marks. The bond that should not exist but somehow did.

"Mate," she whispered, confused and frightened.

I shoved her back down. "No. Absolutely not."

Evander's eyes narrowed slightly, as if he could sense the internal struggle. "Your wolf is waking. Good. You will need her in the coming days."

"Why?" I demanded.

"The drugs Dominic used to suppress your wolf will take time to fully leave your system. During that time, you will experience withdrawal symptoms. Headaches, nausea, fever, and most significantly, intense heat cycles."

Heat flooded my face. Of all the humiliations I had endured in the past few months, this felt like the worst. I would be at their mercy, in their territory, going through heat cycles I could not control.

"I see you understand," Evander said, and there might have been the faintest trace of sympathy in his voice. Might have been. "A healer will tend to your wounds. Do not try to leave this room. You are too weak and you will only hurt yourself further."

He turned to leave and I found my voice again. "Why are you helping me?"

Evander paused at the door and glanced back. His expression was unreadable. "Because your husband is a fool who does not deserve what he has stolen. And because you are ours now, whether you accept it or not."

He left before I could respond.

The door closed with a soft click and I was alone with my racing thoughts and the strange marks burning on my neck. I touched them again, tracing the patterns. Three distinct marks, each slightly different, woven together like they belonged that way.

A knock at the door pulled me from my spiral.

"Come in," I said, not sure what else to do.

An older woman entered, carrying a leather bag that smelled of herbs and medicine. Her hair was silver, pulled back in a neat braid, and her eyes were kind but sharp. She reminded me of my mother and the thought sent a fresh wave of grief through my chest.

"I am Mira," she said gently. "I am here to tend your wounds."

She set the bag down and began pulling out supplies. Her hands moved with practiced efficiency as she checked my bandages, cleaned the cuts on my face, and examined the torn stitches on my stomach.

"This will hurt," she warned before pressing something cool and stinging to the wound.

I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood but did not cry out.

Mira worked in silence for a while, her touch surprisingly gentle despite the pain. When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft.

"Not all claims are prisons, child."

I looked at her sharply. "What?"

"The marks on your neck. I know what you must think of them. But not all claims are made to control. Some are made to protect." She met my eyes. "Give them a chance before you decide what this is."

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to think that maybe, just maybe, I had stumbled into something that was not another trap. But trust was a luxury I could not afford anymore.

"Thank you for your care," I said instead.

Mira nodded, understanding the dismissal for what it was. She packed up her supplies and left quietly.

I was alone again, staring at the ceiling and trying to make sense of everything when the door opened once more. This time, two men entered.

The first had sharp green eyes and a cocky smile that immediately set my nerves on edge. He was tall, lean, and moved with the kind of easy confidence that came from never having been truly afraid of anything.

The second was darker, quieter, more dangerous. He did not smile. He just watched me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. Where the first seemed like fire, this one was shadow.

"So you are the one causing all this trouble," the green eyed one said, leaning against the doorframe. "I am Kael. The brooding one over there is Riven. And you have already met our charming older brother."

Riven said nothing, but his eyes never left my face.

The weight of their combined presence pressed down on me like a physical thing. The bond I had been trying to ignore flared to life, pulling at something deep in my chest. Sab whimpered, torn between recognition and fear.

These were the men from my dreams. The ones who had haunted my sleep for months. And now they were real, standing in front of me, and I had no idea what that meant.

Kael's grin widened. "Welcome to Nightbane, princess. Hope you survive your stay here because your husband is already demanding we return you.”