Chapter 4

Elara's POV

Kaelen walked with long strides through the stone hallways of his private quarters. I trailed behind him, dragging my feet as pain kept shooting up my arm.

The moment he pushed open the oak door into a dimly lit chamber, I stopped dead in the doorway.

"So, are you going to do it now?" I demanded, exhaustion making my voice sharper than I intended. "Or are you waiting to gather a bigger audience down here to witness the spectacle?"

Kaelen stopped and slowly turned to face me, his dark eyebrows drawing together as his silver eyes narrowed.

"Are you truly so bent on me rejecting you?" he asked, his deep voice dangerously quiet. "You haven't been in my home for five minutes, Elara."

"I have nothing to offer you!" I fired back, taking a stubborn step forward despite my trembling knees. "Look at me! I’m wolfless, useless, and broken. I’m certainly no prize, and I’m definitely not some princess in distress waiting for a heroic Lycan king to save her!"

A flash of irritation flashed across Kaelen's face. "Watch your tone with me, girl."

"Why should I?" I snapped, my patience finally breaking. "Just say the words! Tell me you reject me so I can stop waiting for the other shoe to drop!"

Kaelen’s jaw clenched, and his posture straightened. Without warning, his Lycan aura flared through the small room.

It wasn't meant to attack me, but the sudden pressure collided with my freshly severed pack bonds.

The bonds I’d severed with my broken finger and bleeding palm suddenly flared with heat. A choked gasp escaped my throat, and my legs gave out. I hit the slate floor hard, curling into a ball as agony tore through my chest and nerve endings.

"Elara!" Kaelen’s cold expression vanished in an instant.

He dropped to his knees beside me, his hands hovering over my shoulders as his eyes widened at my pale face and bloody hand.

"Hey, look at me," he commanded softly, gently cupping my cheek."Where does it hurt? What's happening to you?"

"Get away from me!" I shoved his hands off with all the strength I had left, my voice cracking. "I don't need your damn sympathy!"

Kaelen’s expression hardened, his silver eyes flashing as he rose to his feet.

"Sympathy?" he spat, his chest heaving as he stared down at me. "I am checking your injuries, you stubborn, infuriating female! I am not the fools who abused and discarded you!"

I pressed my back against the cold stone wall, clutching my broken hand against my ribs and refusing to shed a single tear.

"If you're waiting for me to stand here and reject you like that pathetic Alpha did," Kaelen growled, his voice echoing off the stone walls, "then you had better dream on."

He turned on his heel and slammed the heavy oak door behind him hard enough to rattle the frame.

I lay on the cold stone floor for a long time, listening to the silence until the burning pain in my chest slowly ebbed away into a dull, manageable ache.

He's lying, I thought to myself, staring blankly at the ceiling. They all lie when they want something.

Unable to sit still in the silence of his room, I pushed myself up and slipped out the door. The stone corridors of the Drains were cool and damp, winding through the mountain. I wandered down a torch-lit pathway, trying to clear my head and ignore the weight in my chest.

As I turned a corner into a smaller, residential cavern filled with stone cottages, a small sound caught my attention.

A young girl, no older than twelve, was struggling near a wooden doorway. She gasped for breath as she tried to lift an iron bucket filled with water. Her arms shaking and knees buckling under the weight.

"Hey," I called out softly, stepping forward. "Let me help you with that."

The little girl gasped, dropping her hold on the bucket handle and looking up at me with wide, terrified eyes. "Oh! I... I didn't see you there!"

"It's fine," I said, crouching down beside her despite the dull throbbing in my own arm. Using my good right hand, I easily hoisted the iron bucket up onto my hip. "Where does this go?"

"Just... just inside the door, please," she stammered, pointing toward the open cottage doorway.

I carried the bucket inside, setting it down gently on a low wooden table. A middle-aged woman with dark hair was setting wooden bowls on a counter. She froze when she saw me, her eyes darting from my face to my bandaged hand, then to her daughter.

"Mama," the little girl whispered, running to her mother's side. "She helped me with the water."

The mother swallowed hard, looking at me with a mixture of awe and caution. "Are you... aren't you the guest the Lycan King brought home tonight?"

I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly, nodding. "Yeah. I guess I am. I'm Elara."

The woman's expression softened, and she gestured toward a wooden stool with a small smile. "I am Martha, and this is my daughter, Lily. Please, sit down."

"I shouldn't intrude," I murmured, stepping back toward the door. "I was just walking."

"You aren't intruding," Martha said gently, wiping her hands on her apron. "We saw you walking behind Lord Kaelen earlier. Everyone in the Drains was talking about it."

"They were?" I asked, frowning slightly.

"Of course," Lily piped up, her eyes lighting up. "Lord Kaelen has lived in that private domain for years, and he has never brought anyone inside. Not a single person!"

Martha nodded. "We were all so proud seeing him bring someone home. Lord Kaelen carries this city on his shoulders. He has been hurt and betrayed by people he trusted, but he still protects everyone here. He never asks for anything in return."

A knot of guilt twisted in my stomach.

He was hurt and betrayed too? I thought about how I’d just screamed in his face, thrown his concern back at him and called him a liar. He had tried to check my injuries, and I had treated him like an enemy.

"He really isn't the monster people outside say he is," Martha added softly, noticing my quiet expression. "He’s just a man who learned to guard his heart."

"I... I might have misjudged him," I admitted quietly, looking down at my boots.

"Well, you have time to fix that," Martha smiled, picking up a woven basket from the counter. "Now, you should head back to his quarters, dear. Lily and I need to head down to the lower market to get our late-night supplies before the gates lock."

"Late-night supplies?" I asked, looking at the dark tunnel outside. "I can go for you! It's the least I can do since I'm already out."

"Oh, absolutely not!" Martha laughed, shaking her head as she ushered me toward the door. "You are injured, and more importantly, you are his guest. We couldn't possibly let you run errands for us."

"I really don't mind," I insisted. "My hand hurts, but I can still carry a basket."

"No, Elara," Martha said firmly, though her eyes remained kind as she patted my uninjured shoulder. "Go back to him. He is probably looking for you right now."