Chapter 3

Branches pull away before she can collide with them. Roots sink back into the earth just as her foot comes down. The dense, impossible terrain reshapes itself—guiding her, protecting her, choosing her.

Behind her, the struggle continues.

Varkul roars, furious, enraged—but the deeper she runs, the quieter it becomes. Not because he stops. Because the forest is swallowing the sound. Swallowing him.

Maxine doesn’t stop. She doesn’t dare.

Her breaths come in sharp, broken gasps. Her heart pounds so violently that it feels like it might tear through her ribs and fall onto the floor. Sweat clings to her skin, making it sticky to touch. Her ankle throbs with each step she takes but she doesn’t take a break.

“Why am I healing slower, Thraen?” Maxine probes.

“Something’s going on with your body and it needs all the strength it can get.” Thraen answers.

“Mhmm” Too tired to ask what it is, Maxine drops the matter.

She continues her trek. And as the edge of the forest comes into view, just outside it, so does he—in all his majestic glory, his towering figure casts a long shadow over the evergreen surrounding him. The moonlight reflects off his tawny skin, his all-black outfit blending perfectly into the night.

Though, what stands out the most, is the utter look of disdain he pins on her. The contempt rolling off him in waves aimed squarely at her. It’s so thick and palpable that a claw could cut right through it.

Maxine acknowledges the animosity by taking the best defensive stance she can manage, blood roars in her ears with the growing feeling of dread in her gut.

She had been warned to steer clear of him. His merciless reputation towards her preceded him, so she knew he would kill her the moment he saw her.

Unfortunately, no one ever bothered to tell her why he loathed her so much. And now, she might never find out considering how he looks at her like scum he’d rather scrape off the face of the earth.

She gulps, reaching for her wolf. Thraen comes forward, readying herself to aid Maxine in fighting to the death if it comes to it.

“He’s no match for us.!” Thraen encourages. Maxine doesn’t agree.

But something they hadn’t been expecting happens. She feels it. The tug, the pull, the desire. It’s strong and unrelentingly powerful. Her wolf comes even closer to her consciousness. A feeling they both don’t understand takes over every inch of their conscience.

Draven growls. Low, menacing, but not threatening. He steps closer and then—

“MINE”

“MATE?”

They say at the same time. Draven rears back, shocked at the words that just left his mouth but not surprised.

Maxine on the other hand shakes. She full out trembles in denial. Disbelief etched in her face but she couldn’t deny the reality of it. Not with the way Tharen’s emotions spread throughout her body.

Her mind works fast around everything, going back to the fresh pain caused by the primordial’s utter betrayal.

She doesn’t think further than that. Doesn’t hesitate. She doesn’t see a reason to. So she denies it.

“I reject you, High Alpha Draven.” The line leaves her lips before she can properly phrase it, the words tasting so bitter she nearly chokes on her own breath.

One heartbeat after that, her body tingles all over just like before at the palace, and stops immediately. Her mind stretches. Thraen’s emotions grow more persistent by the second.

Draven takes a step forward. She takes two back. Raising her palms in front of her in warning.

The tingling sensation comes back to her. Stronger this time. More intense. It’s hot, searing. The burning starts from her scalp and spreads further down her body.

“AAAHHHH—AHH—AAAH!” she screams, placing her palms at each side of her head, in a feeble attempt to stop the torture from spreading.

It feels like her hair is being ripped out of her skull, setting her scalp on fire. Her limbs feel like they’re being twisted and yanked from her body.

And her ears! Gosh! Her ears!

Blood trickles down her neck as the tips of her ears split and stretch. Inexplicable pain detonates at the side of her head.

Everything hurts.

Everything.

It hurts to be alive. All she can feel now is inexplicable misery.

Draven watches the scene before him unravel, the darkness of her hair bleeds from the roots, leaving in its place a completely different shade, the tips of her ears tear and start to lengthen, blood dripping from the ripped edges and dampening her skin.

Her entire body transforms right before his eyes, it is undeniably evident that it hurts more than he can imagine yet he can’t do anything about it but witness it all. He’s left standing there, as whatever takes over happens. His heart throbs, his veins strain but he stands and watches.

Nyxar whimpers in his mind, unable to stop his emotions from bleeding out. Anguished by the sight of his mate in pain.

Until, she lets out one haunting scream and collapses, giving into the darkness. Draven moves forward before he can stop himself, catching her just before she hits the floor.

For a moment he only stares at her frail body in his arms. His eyes linger on the strange new shade of her hair, then they move to the even stranger ears barely covered beneath it.

“I’m riveted,” he sighs.

“She didn’t even say it right.” Nyxar manages to say despite his despair.

Draven’s voice comes out low, “Either way, I don’t accept her rejection.”

He stares at her for what feels like hours but it's only been a few minutes. Admiring her new form and absolutely stunned by what he just saw.

“We should head back before whoever she was running from catches up,” Nyxar says.

‘You’re right.’ Draven’s jaw tightens, he picks her up gently, careful not to cause any further harm to her frail body. Once he’s certain she’s comfortable, he starts to walk back to where he came from.