C2

Gen felt completely numb as she stepped into the grand hall of Thayer’s den in Hollowmere Heights. Her wolf, still reeling from the shock of the glowing gold moon-leaves, cowered deep inside her soul, desperately trying to shield itself from the heavy, suffocating pain of Draven’s rejection.

She was on autopilot, forcing her lips into a tight smile while trying to focus on Ronan’s sweet, young mate, Bryony.

"I was so worried the snow on the Lunar Fang Trail would delay my father," Bryony murmured softly, her scent of wild lavender and fresh earth offering a small comfort.

"Aldren is a stubborn old wolf," Gen replied, her throat tight as she forced the words out. "A little winter storm won't keep him from showing off at a pack feast."

Gen glanced over Bryony’s shoulder, her eyes instantly tracking Draven. He stood by the great stone hearth, his massive, powerful alpha frame leaning heavily against the mantel as he drained another goblet of raw, fermented blood-wine. He had not looked at her once since they arrived, his scent of cedarwood now rancid with bitter, burning hostility.

"Is everything alright, Gen?" Bryony asked, her eyes darting between Gen and the brooding male across the room. "You smell... different. Like silver and rain."

"Just tired from the healing cabin," Gen lied, the copper taste of anxiety rising in her throat as she saw Draven pouring himself another heavy splash of the strong liquor.

"Your father has arrived!" Elka’s loud, cheerful voice boomed from the entrance of the den, cutting through the low hum of the pack's chatter.

Gen stiffened as Draven’s head snapped up. His amber eyes locked onto hers from across the crowded hall, burning with a cold, mocking fire that made her core clench in sudden, defensive agony. He began to walk toward her, his silent, predatory strides making the surrounding wolves instinctively part for him.

"Still playing the perfect, dutiful Luna, Gen?" Draven sneered as he stopped just inches from her, his chest practically brushing against her shoulder. "You really are a masterpiece of ice."

Gen closed her eyes for a brief second, his scent washing over her and triggering a sudden, violent wave of nausea that she desperately fought to swallow down.

"Do not do this here, Draven," Gen whispered, her knuckles turning white as she clutched the edge of a nearby wooden table. "My father is finally home."

"Let the old Alpha see what a hollow shell he traded me to," Draven hissed, leaning down so his hot, liquor-scented breath brushed her ear. "Maybe he can take you back to the Ravenmoor Citadel."

"I am your mated Luna," Gen said, her voice shaking with a mix of rising anger and the fierce, protective instinct of the tiny, secret life growing inside her. "The pack laws bind us."

"Pack laws can be broken, Gen," Draven whispered, his hand suddenly gripping her waist with a cruel, possessive force that sent a mock-spark of their mate bond through her veins, leaving a cold trail of ash in its wake. "And so can you."

He let go of her waist so abruptly she almost stumbled, his low, bitter chuckle echoing in her ears as he turned his back on her to face the main doors.

Aldren Wrenmoor strode into the hall, his graying fur cloak trailing behind him, his booming alpha aura immediately demanding the submission of every wolf in the room. Beside him stood Caedric, his expression dark and guarded as his eyes swept the chamber.

"Genesis!" Aldren bellowed, his arms opening wide as he spotted his daughter. "Come, let me look at the proud Luna of the Hollowmere pack!"

Gen forced her feet to move forward, but before she could reach her father, Draven stepped directly into her path, his shoulder blocking her from the old Alpha's view.

"Welcome, Alpha Aldren," Draven said, his voice dripping with a superficial respect that made Gen’s blood run cold. "Though I am afraid your daughter has some news that might spoil your appetite tonight."

Gen gasped, her heart hammering frantically against her ribs as she stared at Draven's broad back.

"What is the meaning of this, Draven?" Aldren’s voice dropped, his alpha command instantly raising the hairs on the back of every wolf's neck in the hall.

Draven turned slowly, his eyes gleaming with a lethal, cruel satisfaction as he looked down at Gen.

"Ask her," Draven said, his voice echoing clearly through the suddenly silent hall. "Ask her about the mate bond she just tried to force on me with a lie."

"My father does not try to force every single wolf around him into submission," Draven snorts, his lip curling back to show his sharp white fangs.

"No, he just waits in the dark until he finds a throat to rip out," Genesis says, her voice flat and cold as ice.

"Watch your mouth, Gen," Draven warns, his golden eyes flashing with a sudden, dangerous heat that makes her chest tighten.

"Genesis, my little wolf, are you hiding from me?" Aldren's booming voice cuts through the tension as he strides over, his heavy fur cloak sweeping behind him.

Genesis turns and lets her father pull her into a tight, rib-crushing embrace that smells of woodsmoke and the cold winds of the Silvermoon Dominion. Ever since Caedric had his wild breakdown at her mating ceremony a year and a half ago and vanished into the northern wastes, their father had been trying harder with his remaining pups. Even Ronan’s sudden mating with Bryony had not set the old Alpha off the way they expected, making him softer, almost gentle.

"You look thin, Gen," Aldren grunts, releasing her and tapping her cheek with a rough, calloused hand. "Is this Hollowmere pack not feeding my girl?"

Aldren's sharp eyes suddenly shift to Draven, narrowing instantly as he smells the heavy scent of fermented blood-wine rolling off the younger male.

"Hollowmere," Aldren says, his voice dropping an octave into a low, rumbling threat.

"Alpha Aldren," Draven says, his voice slurring slightly as he raises his silver cup, letting a dark drop of the wine spill onto the floor.

"You are drinking early," Aldren grunts, his jaw clenching as he stares at the younger Alpha.

"It is a celebration, is it not?" Draven sneers, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp and hostile as he deliberately goads the older wolf.

Aldren looks ready to bare his teeth, but Elka calls out from the patio, distracting him and drawing him away toward where Thayer is standing by the roasting meat.

"You are acting like a rabid beast," Genesis says, spinning on Draven the moment her father is out of earshot.

"Maybe I am," Draven murmurs, stepping closer until his scent of cedar and sharp alcohol floods her senses, making her wolf pace anxiously inside her mind. "But I stopped caring about your family's dynamic a very long time ago."

"I cannot even look at you when you are like this," Genesis whispers, her hands clenching into tight fists to hide the way her claws want to slip out.

"You do not look at me anyway, Gen," Draven says, tossing back the rest of his dark drink before turning his back on her. "I need more wine if I am going to survive this pack reunion."

He saunters toward the great stone bar without looking back, leaving her standing alone in the center of the bustling hall.

Genesis watches his broad shoulders disappear into the crowd of laughing wolves, a cold, heavy weight settling deep in her gut as she presses a hand against her stomach, where her secret pup is waiting.

"He does not deserve you," a dark, smooth voice purrs from the shadows behind her.

Genesis spins around, her heart jumping into her throat as her eyes land on the tall, scarred form of Vaughn Ashcroft standing near the stone pillar.

"Vaughn," Genesis breaths out, her skin turning hot as the powerful warrior steps into the light, his golden eyes locked hungrily onto her face. "You are not supposed to be in our territory."

"I go where I please, little healer," Vaughn whispers, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her cheek, his fingers scorching her skin with a strange, forbidden heat. "Especially when I hear your mate is planning to break your bond."