Chapter 018

The garden was too quiet once he left. His scent still lingered in the air, that sharp mix of pine and smoke, clinging to me like it had soaked into my skin. I hated that I missed it the moment it began to fade.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to slow my breathing. If anyone looked out here now, they’d think I was calm, but inside my chest felt like it was coming apart thread by thread.

“Rain?”

I turned at the soft call of my name. Clara stood at the edge of the terrace, her hands clasped nervously in front of her apron. She glanced around the dark hedges as if afraid of being caught outside with me.

“There you are,” she said, her voice hushed. “I was told to keep an eye on you.”

Of course she had been.

I forced a small smile. “I’m fine. Just needed some air.”

Clara nodded, though the uncertainty in her eyes betrayed her. “Maybe we should go back in, my—” She stopped herself just in time, fumbling with her words. “Rain. The hall is……well, it’s full, but safer than out here.”

Safer. The word lodged uncomfortably in my throat. Safe had always been an illusion to me.

I shook my head, pushing off the stone wall. “No. I don’t want to go back through there.” My gaze lifted toward the looming walls of the pack house. “Is there another way inside? Somewhere less… crowded?”

Clara hesitated, chewing her lip. “There is a back stairway from the gardens. It leads up near the east wing.”

“Take me there,” I said quickly, before she could second-guess it.

Her brows pinched together. “But… Darius—”

“Darius won’t know if you don’t tell him.” My voice was sharper than I intended, but I softened it with a sigh. “Please, Clara. I just want to get back to my room.”

Something in my tone must have convinced her. She glanced once more toward the golden glow of the hall before nodding. “This way,” she whispered.

We slipped through the garden path, shadows swallowing our steps. Clara moved quickly but quietly, skirts brushing the gravel, eyes darting around as though expecting someone to leap out from the hedges. I followed close behind until we reached a narrow iron door half-hidden beneath an ivy arch.

Clara tugged it open, and the scent of stone and candle wax drifted out from the stairwell beyond.

I cast one last glance at the hall’s lights spilling over the terrace, at the faint echo of voices and laughter drifting out into the night. Then I stepped inside, the iron door closing with a muffled click behind us.

The climb up the narrow stairs was steep, and my gown brushed against the walls as we went. My pulse slowed with each step away from the crowd, away from the weight of too many eyes.

When we finally reached the corridor near my chamber, Clara exhaled, almost relieved.

“You’ll be more comfortable here,” she murmured.

I touched her hand briefly. “Thank you, Clara.”

She dipped her head but didn’t reply, hurrying to push open the door to my room. I slipped inside, the familiar sight of the draped bed and the soft firelight greeting me like a shield.

The moment the door shut, I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

Finally. Alone.

The door clicked softly shut behind Clara, and the quiet that followed was almost heavy enough to crush me. For a long moment, I just stood there, fingers still resting on the edge of the doorframe, staring at the flicker of firelight across the room.

I didn’t even realize I was shaking until I lifted my hands and saw the faint tremble in my fingers. It wasn’t fear, at least, not the kind I’d grown accustomed to. This was something different. The whole evening had been a performance I wasn’t prepared for. Eyes watching, whispers curling at the edges of my hearing.

I crossed the room slowly, letting the train of my gown drag behind me like a weight. The lace against my bare shoulders itched now, the jewelry at my throat felt heavier than before. The silk and velvet they’d dressed me in had been chosen to make me look like something I wasn’t, like I belonged here. But standing alone, stripped of all those glances and murmurs, I only felt like a girl wearing someone else’s skin.

I sank down onto the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under me. My palms pressed into the coverlet as if grounding myself.

For the first time since I’d walked into that hall, I allowed myself to breathe.

Thank the gods neither Caius nor my father were here.

The thought came sharp and cold, but it was true. If either of them had been in that hall, all those wolves, witches, and Alphas looking at me would’ve been nothing compared to the scene they would have caused. Caius with his venomous tongue, my father with his fists and false charm.

I closed my eyes briefly, trying not to imagine it their sneers, their questions, the humiliation that always followed in their wake. I had drawn enough attention tonight to last me a lifetime. Any more and I might not have survived it.

A bitter little laugh slipped past my lips, the sound swallowed quickly by the room. Survived. That was always the word with me, wasn’t it? Not lived, not thrived—just survived.

I tilted my head back, staring at the ceiling where the light from the fire danced like restless ghosts. Darius’s face flashed across my mind, his eyes when he’d said run with me, the challenge in his voice. The way his presence wrapped around me even when he wasn’t in the room.

I pressed my palms to my thighs, forcing the thought away. He was dangerous, and not just because of his title. The longer I stayed here, the more I felt myself slipping into something I didn’t understand.

Draven had completely ignored me like he was ashamed of what happened in the garden. I am angry yet I cannot blame him. I would be ashamed too if I was caught with me.

The hall, the wolves, the scent of power thick as smoke, it was all too much. Yet here I was, dressed like one of them, sitting in a room that wasn’t mine, caught between the past I escaped and a future I didn’t recognize.

I exhaled slowly, steadying myself. One thing at a time. Tonight, I had survived the first storm. Tomorrow, I’d survive the next.

But as I stared at the flames, my fingers twisting in the coverlet, another thought crept in, sharper, colder, what if I didn’t wait for tomorrow? What if I slipped out tonight, before anyone noticed? Before Darius, before Daemon, or even Draven. Before the whole cursed house decided what they wanted me to be.

The idea of escape burned brighter than the firelight. Dangerous. Impossible. And yet, for the first time since stepping into this place, I felt the faintest flicker of hope.

Looking out my window I drew my knees up on the bed, letting the weight of the day roll off my shoulders in slow waves. The muffled roar of voices downstairs was still there, but softer now, like a distant sea.

Outside looked peaceful and quiet with a vast number of opportunities. Drifting away into my imagination…….

A quiet town with no wolves at all. A little house tucked beneath a line of trees, sun spilling through open windows. I would wake to birds, not growls. No eyes tracking me. No hands gripping my waist, no smirks or taunts, no whispers about who owned me. I could be anyone. Just Rain. Just a girl with pale hair, walking down a street where no one knew her name.

I built it detail by detail: the scent of bread cooling on a windowsill, a stack of books I’d actually chosen for myself, a life without fear pressing at my ribs. Maybe I could even pick a kind man as a husband, someone who wouldn’t see me as a property.

The farther I drifted, the lighter it felt, as though even my skin was shedding the weight of this place.

I rolled onto my side, fingers tracing the edge of the blanket, and stared at the flicker of firelight. Could I really do it? Slip out before dawn? Vanish before any of them had a chance to claim me?

The question circled and circled, refusing to let me go. Was freedom worth it if it meant turning my back on a bond I hadn’t asked for but still felt in my bones? Was I ready to reject my mates for the chance at a life that might never be mine?

The thought was a quiet ache as my eyes drifted shut. Escape. Freedom. Peace. The words whispered through me like a lullaby, soft and dangerous, following me down into sleep.