Chapter 017

The garden air was cooler than inside, crisp enough that it raised goosebumps along my bare arms. I was grateful for the distance from the hall, but not for the man walking beside me.

Darius stopped near the fountain, his hands clasped behind his back, face unreadable in the moonlight. He didn’t bother looking at me right away, and somehow that made the silence worse.

“So much for keeping to yourself,” he said finally, his tone flat but cutting.

I swallowed, my mouth dry. “I didn’t ask for her attention.”

“You didn’t stop it either.” His eyes flicked to me now, dark and steady.

Anger prickled under my skin. “What was I supposed to do? Fight her in front of everyone?”

“You know, you have a thing about attracting unwanted attention yourself so you should have stood your ground.” His voice dropped lower, sharp as a blade. “Instead you let my brother play his little games, and her claws nearly found your face.”

My stomach twisted, shame and frustration warring inside me. I wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but part of me knew he wasn’t.

He stepped closer, the faint crunch of gravel under his boots the only sound. My breath caught when his hand lifted—not to touch me, but to hover just above my jaw, his fingers steady in the air. “You don’t understand, do you?”

My voice came out tight. “Understand what?”

“That every look, every stumble, every weakness—wolves see it. And they’ll use it.” His hand dropped back to his side, his expression giving nothing away. “If you can’t control yourself, Rain, you’ll be eaten alive long before this summit is over.”

The words sank in like cold water. My chest ached, my pride burned, but all I could do was nod faintly, my throat too tight for anything else.

Darius’s gaze lingered on me for another heartbeat, then he turned back toward the hall as though the conversation was already finished.

“Come,” he said, his voice as unyielding as stone. “You won’t last long out here on your own.”

“No,” I snapped before I could stop myself. “You can’t keep controlling me like I’m some pup.”

The words hung between us, sharp and reckless, but I didn’t take them back.

Darius stopped dead in his tracks. He turned slowly, the movement deliberate, and when his eyes met mine, something flickered there, anger, yes, but something else too. Something darker, hotter, like fascination.

“Careful, little wolf,” he murmured. “You’re not as untouchable as you think.”

“I am not a prisoner here neither am I afraid of you.” It was a lie. My voice betrayed me with a tremor, but I forced my chin up anyway.

His mouth curved, half a smirk, half a snarl. “Fine. Since you don’t want to be inside…” He tilted his head, studying me like prey. “Run with me.”

I stumbled back, the gravel shifting under my heels. “What?”

“Shift.” His voice dropped, low and commanding. “Come with me into the trees. I’ll show you what freedom really feels like.”

The suggestion knocked the air from my lungs. My heartbeat thundered so loud it drowned out the sound of the fountain.

They cannot find out. Not here. Not like this.

If I refused outright, I’d look weak. If I agreed, I’d have to show him the truth, that I was wolfless. That I’d never once felt the rush of fur tearing through skin, never run on four legs, never met the beast everyone here assumed lived inside me.

“I… I thought your kind don’t change in front of people,” I whispered, trying to buy time, to divert him.

“They don’t, sweetheart.” He took a slow step closer. “But you’re not ‘people.’ You’re my mate.” His voice darkened, velvet and steel all at once. “And I’m willing to do that—for you.”

My stomach twisted. He was serious.

Darius in his wolf form would be a sight from every story whispered around the fire as a child: massive, silver-eyed, more nightmare than animal. The thought of standing beside that in my weak human skin made my throat close.

“I…” My voice faltered. “I can’t. Not tonight.”

His head tilted, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

I forced myself to meet his gaze. “I’m not ready.”

For a long, heavy moment, he just stared at me. Then, instead of snapping, he exhaled slowly, the sound low and rough.

“Stubborn little thing,” he muttered under his breath, almost like he was speaking to himself.

But then his hand shot out, fingers brushing my jaw, not rough, but firm enough to hold my attention. “You’re not getting out of this forever, Rain,” he said quietly. “You’re mine. Every part of you. Even the one you’re hiding from me.”

Heat crawled over my skin under his touch, but my blood ran cold at the words. Did he know? Did he already suspect?

He let go before I could answer, stepping back, eyes hooded again. “We’ll go inside,” he said finally. “For now.”

“You go, I’ll stay here,” I said, still refusing to go back into that suffocating hall. The garden’s night air was cool against my skin, but my palms were sweating anyway.

Darius stopped again, his back to me. For a heartbeat he didn’t move, just stood there with his hands clasped loosely behind him. Then, very slowly, he turned.

“You’re testing me, little wolf.” His voice was quiet, but it carried. Not a threat, not a shout, just a statement.

“I’m not.” My own voice came out softer than I wanted. “I just… I can’t breathe in there.”

His eyes dragged over my face, unreadable. “Then breathe out here. But you don’t stay alone.”

“I’m not a child,” I muttered. “I don’t need to be watched every second.”

His mouth curved just slightly, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “You’re not a child,” he agreed. “You’re a distraction. To me. To Daemon. To every wolf in that hall. You don’t even realize what you’re doing.”

Heat flushed my cheeks. “I am not doing anything.”

“That’s the problem.” He stepped closer, the gravel crunching under his boots. “You stand there in that dress with your hair down and your scent everywhere and you think you can hide? You can’t, Rain. Not from them. Not from me.”

My throat went dry. He was close now, too close, his shadow taller than mine on the stone wall behind me.

“You’re angry because you can’t control me,” I said quietly, though my heart was pounding.

He huffed a low sound, something between a laugh and a growl. “I’m angry because I don’t want to.” His eyes locked on mine, dark and unflinching. “You have no idea what it takes to keep my hands off you.”

A shiver ran down my spine at the way he said it. The air between us felt charged, heavy.

I looked away, pretending to adjust the pendant at my throat. “Then maybe you should go back inside,” I whispered. “You’re the Alpha here, not me.”

He tilted his head, considering me. “Maybe I should.” But he didn’t move. Instead, his fingers brushed the top of my arm, just enough to send a spark through me. “Or maybe I stay and you stop pretending you’re not trembling.”

I swallowed hard, still staring at the garden’s fountain instead of him. “I’m not trembling.”

His thumb swept along my arm, slow. “Liar.”

I finally looked back at him. “What do you want from me?”

His eyes softened for the briefest second, but his answer came low and rough. “Everything.”

The word sat between us like a live wire.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. The distant music from the hall drifted through the garden, muffled, like another world. Out here it was just us, the cold stone at my back, and the scent of pine and leather clinging to him.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” I whispered.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

His fingers grazed my wrist now, tracing the pulse there, not holding but circling, like he could feel my heartbeat under his skin.

“I’m not ready,” I said again, softer.

His hand stilled. He leaned in just enough for his breath to brush my cheek. “I’ll wait,” he said simply. “But not forever.”

Then, as if he sensed he’d pushed enough for tonight, he straightened and stepped back, his expression settling into something neutral again.

“Stay a little longer if you want,” he said. “But don’t go beyond the garden.” His eyes flicked to the dark trees beyond the hedge. “It’s not safe yet.”

He started toward the hall but paused, glancing back once. “I meant it,” he added. “I’ll wait. But don’t test me too far.”

And then he was gone, his broad frame disappearing into the light spilling from the open doors, leaving me in the cool dark with my heart hammering against my ribs.

I pressed my hands to the stone at my back and closed my eyes.

So much for keeping to myself.