Chapter 033

The door clicked softly behind him, and the silence that followed felt heavier than before thick and stifling, pressing against my ribs. I sat there staring at the spot where he’d stood, my mind replaying his words over and over.

You’re not healing like the others.

He noticed. Of course, he did. Darius missed nothing.

I ran a shaky hand through my hair, wincing when my fingers brushed a tender spot along my jaw. My skin still throbbed faintly where the ointment cooled it — a strange mix of relief and humiliation. He’d seen me broken and bruised, and instead of walking away, he’d stayed… to touch me, to care for me, even if his touch burned more than it soothed.

I lay back slowly, staring up at the ceiling beams that caught the pale afternoon light. I hated this the weakness, the lies, the constant fear of being found out. I wasn’t supposed to be here among Lycans, surrounded by power and instinct and teeth. I was supposed to be gone far from here, hidden, safe.

My thoughts drifted to the fight. The flashes of claws, the sound of bones meeting flesh, the blood. And me standing there, slow and human, pretending to belong. Pretending I could hold my own.

I curled on my side, the sheets brushing over the bandages Darius had left behind. My chest ached at the memory of his face when he looked at me not cruel, not mocking, just curious. As if he was trying to piece together something that didn’t fit.

“Different,” he’d said.

He wasn’t wrong.

A knock came at the door, soft and hesitant. My pulse jumped.

“Rain?” It was Maris’s voice, quiet and uncertain.

I pushed myself up slowly. “Come in.”

The door creaked open, and she stepped inside, her eyes darting over me to the ointment still glistening faintly on my neck, the scattered sheets, the half-eaten plate of fruit on the table. “Oh, thank the goddess, you’re awake,” she said. “You missed lunch. Amelia said to check if you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” I murmured, forcing a small smile. “Just tired.”

Maris didn’t look convinced. “You should’ve seen the look on Darius’s face when he left here,” she said, shutting the door behind her. “Half the guards thought he’d gone to tear someone apart.”

My heart skipped. “He didn’t… say anything?”

She shook her head, plopping down beside me on the edge of the bed. “Not a word. Just that you needed rest. Which, coming from him, is almost tender.”

I laughed weakly, the sound too small for the heavy air between us. “Tender isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”

“Well,” she said, nudging me lightly, “whatever it was, it worked. You’re still in one piece.”

“Barely,” I muttered under my breath.

She gave me a look, half concerned, half teasing but didn’t pry. For that, I was grateful.

Outside, the afternoon sun had begun to dip, streaking the windows in amber light. The house was unusually quiet, the sounds of the summit fading into the distance.

Maris leaned back, her tone softening. “You know,” she said, “people are starting to talk about you. About how the brothers look at you. Especially after this morning.”

I froze. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated, then sighed. “That you’ve caught their attention……..all three of them. Some think it’s curiosity, others…” She trailed off, meeting my eyes. “Others think it’s something deeper.”

Something deeper.

If only they knew.

I forced a steady breath and whispered, “That kind of attention will get me killed.”

Maris frowned. “Or protected.”

I shook my head. “It’s the same thing here.”

Neither of us spoke for a long while after that. The light dimmed. The house creaked softly. My gaze fell on the door where Darius had left, and I couldn’t help the small, traitorous thought that crossed my mind.

I almost wished he’d stayed.

Because the quiet, the pretending, the weight of my secret all of it was starting to feel unbearable.

Maris leaned closer, lowering her voice until it was barely above a whisper. “You probably don’t want to hear this,” she began, glancing toward the door as if afraid someone might be listening.

I frowned, already dreading where this was going. “What is it?”

She sighed. “Selene. She’s been running her mouth again. Loudly this time.”

Of course she had.

I rubbed a hand over my face, suddenly exhausted. “What did she say now?”

Maris hesitated, biting her lower lip. “You sure you want to know?”

“Yes,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure at all.

She exhaled and leaned back slightly. “She’s been saying you only got the brothers’ attention because they pity you. That you’re soft… fragile. A charity case.”

My jaw tightened.

“And,” Maris continued carefully, “that if you weren’t warming Daemon’s bed, you wouldn’t still be here.”

The words hit like a slap, sharp and humiliating. My face burned hot even as the air around me felt suddenly cold.

“She said that?” I asked, my voice trembling despite how hard I tried to steady it.

Maris nodded. “And worse. She told the other Lunas that she almost felt sorry for you, that you don’t even fight like a wolf. That when she looked at you this morning, all she saw was a lost little girl playing at being strong.”

I laughed quietly, a hollow, bitter sound that didn’t reach my eyes. “Well, she’s not wrong about that part.”

“Rain,” Maris said softly, “don’t say that.”

But I couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “She’s right. I don’t fight like a wolf, because I’m not one. Not like them. I don’t have fangs or claws to bare. I’m just… me.”

“Still,” Maris said, firm now, “you’re stronger than she’ll ever admit. You stood there and faced Lena while the others just watched. That takes something, Rain. Don’t let her make you forget that.”

I looked down at my bruised hands resting in my lap the faint traces of blood still under my nails from the fight earlier. “She’ll keep coming for me,” I said quietly. “I can feel it.”

Maris reached over, touching my arm. “Then let her. Because from what I’ve seen, she doesn’t scare you she wants to. And that’s what eats at her the most.”

Her words lingered in the air long after she fell silent.

I wanted to believe her, that I wasn’t as weak as Selene claimed, that I wasn’t the fragile thing everyone saw when they looked at me. But deep down, the truth gnawed at me like a wound that wouldn’t heal.

They all saw a wolf.

And I was just the girl pretending to be one.

“You can train with us sometime… me and Colin,” Maris said suddenly, her tone lighter now, almost hopeful.

I blinked at her, unsure I’d heard correctly. “Train? With you?”

She shrugged, a little smile tugging at her lips. “Why not? You held your own today longer than anyone expected. Colin’s good at hand-to-hand, he’s been teaching me since I was twelve. And me…” she tilted her head, eyes gleaming mischievously, “well, I’m not half bad either.”

I stared at her for a beat, trying to read her expression. “You’d really do that? After what happened?”

Maris nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Of course. The others might treat this summit like some grand parade of dominance, but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn something useful from it. Besides,” she added, lowering her voice, “I think it would drive Selene crazy to see you improving.”

That pulled a reluctant laugh from me — soft, but real. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m practical,” she corrected with a grin. “And since you clearly don’t have anyone else helping you, I figured… why not me?”

I hesitated, chewing on my bottom lip. The thought of training, of putting myself in another situation where I could get hurt, or worse, reveal what I really was, sent a ripple of fear through me. But beneath that, something else stirred… something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

“Alright,” I said finally, voice quiet but steady. “We’ll try. But I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it.”

Maris smirked, patting my knee. “Good thing I don’t expect you to be. Just show up, Rain. We’ll do the rest.”

Her confidence was contagious, and for the first time since the summit began, I felt something close to calm.

Maybe………just maybe, I could learn to defend myself.

Not as a wolf. Not even as a mate.

Just as me