Chapter 022

Draven’s warning lingered like smoke in the air, the crowd around us frozen in silence. Darius’s chest still heaved, his jaw tight as if he were holding himself back by a thread. Daemon’s smirk only deepened, wicked and unrepentant, feeding off the chaos.

And then Draven moved.

Without another word, he reached past Darius and took my wrist, firm. His touch wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t cruel either. It was final, absolute.

“She’s done here,” Draven said, his voice low but carrying enough command that the other warriors lowered their gazes immediately.

“Don’t you dare—” Darius started, his voice cracking like a growl.

“Stand down, brother.” Draven’s tone cut through him, a blade in the dark. For a moment, their eyes locked, Darius’s blazing fury against Draven’s cold authority. It was a silent battle, but I knew who would win.

Draven tugged me closer until I stumbled against his chest. Heat rolled off him, his heartbeat steady against my cheek while mine thundered like a trapped bird. I tried to twist free, but his grip only tightened, leaving no room for protest.

“Let me go,” I whispered, though my voice broke, thin as glass.

Draven leaned down, his lips dangerously close to my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “You’ve caused enough of a scene. You’ll leave with me, now.”

I dared a glance back, Darius looked torn apart, fists clenched at his sides, a storm burning in his eyes. Daemon only chuckled, licking his bottom lip as though he were savoring my humiliation.

The shame burned deeper, my throat aching where Darius’s hand had been, my body still trembling with the memory of their closeness. Every eye in the training ground followed as Draven all but dragged me away, his grip on me unshakable.

And though part of me wanted to scream, another part of me was too stunned, too tangled in the dark pull of it all.

Draven didn’t stop until we were deep inside the west wing of the packhouse. The walls here were darker, quieter, the air thick with the kind of silence that pressed against your skin.

He shoved open a door and pulled me inside. His office. Heavy oak desk. The scent of leather and smoke.

The door slammed behind us.

“Are you out of your mind?” His voice was calm, too calm. The kind of calm that came with warning underneath.

“I didn’t—”

“You didn’t what?” He stalked closer, every slow step measured. “Didn’t mean to stand there while my brothers nearly tore each other apart over the sight of you? Didn’t mean to wander into a place full of men who can scent every pulse of arousal off your skin?”

My cheeks burned. “Stop…..”

“I can’t,” he cut in sharply, coming to stand right before me. “Because you don’t seem to understand what you are walking into, little wolf. This isn’t your father’s estate or some quiet, safe corner of the world where you can pretend to be untouched. You are mine. Our mate. And every second you test that, you make it harder for me to keep the others off you.”

His words struck hard. The possessiveness in them stung and soothed at once.

“I didn’t go there for them,” I said, voice barely steady. “I just needed air.”

He studied me then, the fury in his eyes dimming to something darker, quieter. His hand came up to my face, not roughly this time, but with a ghost of gentleness, tracing the faint marks Darius had left on my neck.

“You think needing air gives you permission to walk into danger?” he murmured. “You’re lucky I got there when I did. Daemon doesn’t stop. And Darius, he is irrational.”

I flinched, whispering, “And what about you? Do you?”

His jaw flexed, something wild flickering in his gaze. “No,” he said finally, “but I know how to control myself.”

The air between us tightened again. My pulse betrayed me, quick and uneven.

“You didn’t seem like you were in much control at the garden.” I whispered, eyeing the vein that moved under his jaw.

“Don’t fucking tempt me Rain. I always finish a meal.”

“I don’t belong here,” I managed after a moment of silence between us. “None of this….these rules, your control, none of it is me. I didn’t choose to be here.”

His thumb lingered under my chin, lifting my face. “But you are, so try as much as you can but you are not leaving. Ever. he said softly. “Because from where I stand, you keep finding new ways to make every one of us lose control.”

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. His voice was silk wrapped around steel.

He dropped his hand and stepped back, his expression unreadable. “Listen to me carefully,” he said, low and deliberate. “Stay out of the training grounds. Stay away from Daemon when he’s like that. Don’t test me again. I’m not going to explain to anyone why my brothers fight over a girl who isn’t even supposed to be here.”

My chest tightened. “You can’t just lock me away”

“I can,” Draven said quietly, turning toward the door. “And I will if your force me. You’re already drawing enough eyes. Don’t make it worse.”

He opened it halfway, then paused. “You’re playing with fire, little wolf. Be careful it doesn’t start wanting you back.”

And then he was gone, leaving me standing in the dim light, heart pounding against my ribs, still burning from a touch that hadn’t even reached my skin.

The knock came just as I thought I’d finally found silence, and the sun was slightly dipping over the trees.

I sat curled on the edge of the bed, my hair still damp from the bath Clara had insisted I take. My skin felt scrubbed raw, but no amount of washing could rinse away the heat of Darius’s grip on my throat, or the sound of Daemon’s voice whispering filth into the air between us.

Another knock. Softer this time.

“Rain?”

I recognized Maris’s voice immediately.

For a moment, I considered pretending to be asleep. But something in her tone was gentle, carefully I pushed myself up to my feet.

When I opened the door, Maris stood there with a small basket in her hands. Her braid had come loose around her face, and she looked… worried.

“Hey,” she said quietly. “I brought some bread and fruit from the kitchens. I thought maybe you wouldn’t feel like going down.”

I blinked, unsure what to say. “You didn’t have to—”

“I know,” she cut in softly, stepping forward until she was close enough to lower her voice. “But I wanted to.”

The kindness in her eyes nearly undid me.

I stepped aside to let her in. She set the basket on the small table by the window, glancing around before meeting my gaze again. “You okay?”

A bitter laugh escaped before I could stop it. “Do I look okay?”

Maris hesitated, then shook her head. “No. You look like someone who wants to disappear.”

I turned away, staring out the window where the last streaks of sunlight faded behind the trees. “Maybe I do.”

For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence stretched, not heavy, just… real.

Finally, Maris said, “They were out of line. Darius. Daemon. All of them. It shouldn’t have happened.”

I swallowed hard, forcing down the sting in my throat. “It’s their nature. Lycans always mark what they think is theirs. I read stories about them.”

“Maybe,” she said, her tone sharpening. “But that doesn’t mean you have to let them.”

Her words surprised me. “You sound like you’ve dealt with them before.”

She gave a short, humorless laugh. “I’ve attended four summits, remember? Men like them think power gives them permission. It doesn’t.”

Her voice was low, fierce in a way that made me see her differently, not just a friendly girl eager to chat, but someone who’d learned to survive these halls too.

I sat down again, the mattress dipping under my weight. “Maris… back there, in the training yard—”

“You don’t have to explain.” She sat beside me. “Anyone with eyes could see Daemon was pushing you. And Darius…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I’ve never seen him lose control like that. Whatever this bond between you is, but it’s scaring him.”

“It’s scaring me too,” I whispered.

Maris looked at me for a long moment. “Then maybe you should decide if you want to stay scared, or start planning what happens next.”

Her words landed like a stone in my chest.

What happens next.

That was the question I’d been avoiding since the moment I stepped foot into this cursed house.

I gave her a faint smile, though it felt shaky. “You really shouldn’t be here. Someone might see.”

“Let them,” she said simply, rising to her feet. “You need someone on your side. Until you figure out where you stand, I’ll be that.”

Before I could thank her, she turned toward the door. “Eat something. Sleep. Tomorrow will be worse if you don’t.”

When she was gone, the room felt too quiet again. I looked at the basket; bread, cheese, fruit and warm milk.

Then I glanced back toward the window, where night had settled fully now, the stars dim and far away.

Maybe Maris was right. Maybe it was time to start thinking about what comes next.

If I left, if I left, what would they do? Would they come after me? Would Darius tear the realm apart to find me? Would Daemon? What about Draven?

Or would they let me go?

That’s a big NO. So I need to think of another way.