Mercy

DRAVEN'S POV

I couldn't sleep.

My mind burned. I couldn't get her out of my head. 

It’s been hours since I caught she be thrown in the cells, yet her scent—wild lavender, honey and something spicy—lingered. The more I tried to forget— the stronger it grew. I remember the faint feeling of the bond I felt when I held her hands…

“Damn!” I muttered, rising from the bed.

I was going to see the woman who removed sleep from my eyes.

The guards outside stiffened as I approached her cell. When I reached her, she was awake, sitting cross-legged on the floor, hair all over her face. 

She didn't move.

“I see you're awake,” I said, leaning against the bars.

Her eyes lifted slowly, “It’s hard to sleep when my brother’s life depends on a herb I don’t have.”

I smirked. “You mean the one you thought you could steal from my lands?”

Her chin tilted, unflinching. “I wasn't stealing. I acted. Anton's dying, and he needs the silverbloom.” Pause. “But perhaps that would please you, Alpha.”

Her tone was sharper than I expected. I almost admired the guts of this Thornshade healer. Almost.

“You have some nerve, Thornshade. You trespassed into Ironfang territory. You’re lucky you still have a tongue to speak with.” 

“If killing Thornshaders makes you feel powerful, then maybe Ironfang’s reputation is exactly what people say it is—savage.”

I exhale through my nose, “Careful. There are people who’d tear you apart just for that word.”

“Then it’s a good thing their Alpha likes to do his own tearing.”

I step closer, my shadow falling across her. She refuses to look away. I crouch to her eye level. 

“You have a dangerous mouth, little wolf.”

“And you’re dangerous, Alpha.”

My jaw tightens, but I couldn't help the faintest curve to my lips.

“Please, Alpha Draven…all I want is to save my brother.” She said, pleadingly, eyes softening.

“At the expense of your own life? You knew the risks of coming here.”

Silence.

“Well, I’d rather die saving my brother than live because I was too scared to face a man who thinks mercy is a weakness,” she shot back quietly.

My lips curved wider this time— both in amusement, and something darker. “Careful, little wolf. You might convince me to test that theory.”

She didn’t flinch, and somehow that infuriated me. Staring at each other, I felt a sensation. I turned to leave, needing to break the pull between us. Her voice stopped me. 

“Draven—please.”

The sound of my name from her lips—soft—froze me mid-step. “Tell me, do you think sneaking into my territory was bravery or stupidity?”

“Desperation.”

I paused. “For your brother.”

“Yes. You’d do the same if you had a heart.”

That hits something deep. My gaze darkens, but I mask it as I turn to face her.

“You assume much about what I do and don’t have.”

“I assume what everyone who isn't Ironfang knows. You don't know what loss feels like. I can see it in your eyes… you have no emotions.”

I leaned forward, gripping the bars between us. I could rip her throat out right now.

“Watch yourself. You know nothing about me.” Standing up, “You’ll get no sympathy from me. Your brother’s life isn’t my concern.”

But the flicker in my chest said otherwise as the look of pain crosses her face. I turn and leave reminding myself of what she was— a Thornshader, the enemy.

Rather, my pulse beat harder. I stopped halfway up the stairs, dragging a hand through my hair— I couldn’t shake the sound of her voice nor the look on her face out of my head.

Mercy.

I’d buried that word years ago, right alongside everything that made me feel.

And yet, when l look at Elara—filthy, trembling, defiant—I don't see an enemy. I don't see Thornshade. I see a quiet fire. I see the same impossible pull that haunts my sleep since the council meeting. 

The bond was supposed to be severed. I’d broken it. But standing in front of her tonight… it had flared again, faint but alive.

That realization sent a shiver through me. I clenched my fists, forcing the tremor out of them. “She’s nothing, Draven,” as if saying it aloud could make it true. “Just another sneaky Thornshade parasite.”

**********

By dawn, I still hadn’t gotten any proper sleep. 

Karl entered my chambers after the first knock.

“Go away, Karl.” I mumbled, throwing a pillow over my head. 

“The Grand Alpha is here,” Karl said.

I turnover, frowning. “At this hour? Why?”

He hesitated. “Word reached him through Mateo that we're holding their healer captive. He wants an explanation.”

“Of course he does,” I muttered. “The old man loves his diplomacy. I should’ve killed her when I had the chance.”

Karl smirked and left.

I went to the council chamber anyway. The Grand Alpha was already there—silver-haired, with sharp eyes that had seen too much blood. A retired war general. I respect him, we all do.

“Draven,” he said, his voice grave. “You’ve caused tension again. Thornshade sent word that the healer has not returned. Is she alive?”

“She is. She trespassed,” I said, taking a seat. “They know the penalty.”

His expression didn’t waver. “Perhaps. But if she dies in your hands, it might cause a war. Volkava is causing enough damage. Now's not the time for both packs to go to war. Bring her here. Let me see that she’s alive.”

A muscle in my jaw ticked, but I signaled to the guards.

Moments later, she was brought in— pale, but I noted the proud look on her face despite the bruises caused by the irons on her wrists. Her eyes flicker briefly toward me, a silent challenge I refuse to acknowledge.

“There,” I said coldly. “Alive. Satisfied?”

The Grand Alpha exhaled. “This war will reignite if she isn’t returned.”

“No!” I said sharply. “She has to be punished.”

He raises his hands in agreement. “I agree. But perhaps there’s another way. She will stay in Thornshade until her brother recovers, then return to Ironfang for a moon’s cycle. You may… issue any punishment of your choice after that time except death.”

I wanted to protest but the look of despair on her face stopped me.

She opens her mouth. “No, I—”

He cut her off. “Young lady, you're lucky you're still alive.”

I smirk. “I accept.”

The Grand Alpha’s brow arched. “That was quick.”

My gaze remained locked on her. “Because I've got a new pet for a whole month. Can't wait.”

The look of fear finally crossed her face. I smile. Now, I’m satisfied.

As she sets to leave, I catch her arm before she could follow the guards. The contact sent a surge through my veins—that cursed spark again, that recognition my body refused to forget. 

I lean in close, her breath hitches as I find her pouch and taps the moonshade root, my voice low enough for only her to hear. “You can heal your brother. Don't you ever forget, healer. This is my mercy.”

I feel her pulse flutter beneath my grip. “And when Anton is well?”

I smile, slow and dangerous. “Then, little wolf, we’ll see what kind of punishment suits a trespasser, a thief… and a mate who should never have existed.”

My thumb brushed the inside of her wrist before I released her, watching as she stepped back as if my touch burned.

“Don’t play smart,” I warned softly. “Not with me.”

The door shut behind her, leaving me alone in the silence with my thoughts. 

But even as I tried to steady my breath, the faint scent of wild lavender and honey lingered— maddening, intoxicating.

And for the first time since the bond struck… I wasn’t sure who was being punished more.