MasukPOV DARLENE
Dawn at the Blood Wolves' fortress did not arrive with the singing of birds, but with the sound of metal striking stone and the roars of training that made the walls of my new prison vibrate. I woke up wrapped in heavy furs, feeling the icy mountain air bite my bare shoulders. For a second, panic gripped my chest as I didn't recognize the carved rock ceiling, until the stabbing pain in my sternum reminded me of reality: Jackson had broken me, and Eryx had claimed me. I dressed in the leather and wool clothes Myra had thrown at me the night before. Unlike Silver Moon's oppressive silks, these garments hugged my curves with brutal honesty. The leather clung to my thighs and hips, highlighting my figure rather than trying to hide it under layers of useless fabric. When I looked at my reflection in a bowl of water, I didn't see the ashamed wolf who had fled the central square. I saw a woman who was beginning to resemble the wild environment that surrounded her. "Are you going to stand there admiring yourself all day, or are you going to prove that you're not a burden?" Myra's voice came from the entrance to the infirmary. I turned to find her standing with her arms crossed. She looked at me with a mixture of envy and defiance. I wasn't stupid; I knew Myra saw me as a threat, not because of my rank, but because of the attention the Alpha had given me. "I'm ready," I replied, gathering my hair into a tight braid. "Show me who I need to heal." The morning was a whirlwind of activity. Myra tried to test me by giving me the dirtiest tasks: cleaning festering wounds of wolves who had returned from patrolling the border, treating silver burns, and organizing vials of poisons that required surgical precision. But what she didn't know was that I was the best of my caste. Every wound I touched healed under my fingers with a speed that began to draw looks of amazement from the warriors. "Your hands..." murmured a young warrior as I stitched a deep gash in his shoulder. "They don't burn like the other healers'. They feel... cool." "It's the flow of magic, not just technique," I replied without looking up. "If you fight with anger, the wound will become inflamed. You have to let your wolf accept the healing." I was finishing bandaging the warrior when a sudden silence fell over the infirmary. The air became heavy, charged with a static electricity I knew all too well. I didn't need to turn around to know Eryx was there. His scent of sandalwood and storm flooded the space before his footsteps echoed on the stone. "Everyone out," Eryx commanded. His voice was a low roar that brooked no argument. Myra and the warriors practically ran out, leaving me alone with the man who populated my dreams and my fears. I stood up slowly, wiping my bloodstained hands on a clean cloth. Eryx walked toward me with that predatory elegance, his red eyes fixed on my movements. "Kael says you've been working since before sunrise," he said, stopping just a step away from me. His height was imposing, forcing me to tilt my head back. "I owe you for the shelter, Alpha," I replied, trying to keep my voice from betraying the pounding of my heart. "I don't like to leave debts unpaid." Eryx reached out a hand, and for a moment, I thought he was going to touch me. My skin tingled in anticipation, but his hand stopped near my face, catching a stray strand of hair that had escaped from my braid. His fingers brushed my cheek, and I felt an electric shock run through me to the tips of my toes. "Is that how you see yourself? As a debt?" he asked, his voice dropping to a more intimate register. "Jackson convinced you that you had no value if you didn't serve his purposes. But here, Darlene, I don't love you for what you do. I love you for who you are." "You barely know me, Eryx," I whispered, feeling the heat of his body envelop me. "To you, I'm just your enemy's reject. A trophy to rub in his face." He let out a low, possessive growl. He leaned in, invading my personal space until his nose brushed my temple. I could feel his warm breath on my skin. "I don't care about Jackson. He's a puppy playing with fire. I'm looking at the woman who crossed the River of Shadows alone and wounded, and who now stands firm before a Blood Alpha without flinching." His hands slid down my arms, squeezing my biceps lightly before sliding down to my hips. "You have a strength she doesn't have, Darlene." Your curves aren't a blemish. They're a queen's map." His hand paused at the curve of my hip, pressing with a firmness that made me let out an involuntary moan. Desire exploded in my belly like a fire, a physical need for him to touch me, to erase the trace of Jackson's rejection with his own fire. Eryx felt it; his inner wolf responded with a vibrant growl that I felt in my own bones. We were so close that his lips almost brushed mine. I closed my eyes, waiting for the kiss that would seal my fate, but Eryx stopped. Eryx pulled back an inch, his eyes shining with internal struggle. "Not yet," he whispered, and I could hear the tension in his voice. "I won't be another man who takes what he wants from you because you're vulnerable. I want you to give yourself to me because Jackson is nothing more than a blurry memory in your mind." He turned away, leaving me gasping and frustrated in the middle of the infirmary. "There will be a banquet tonight to celebrate the patrol's return," he said over his shoulder. "Wear something that makes you feel powerful. I want my entire pack to see who the woman is who is healing their blood." He left, and the emptiness he left behind was almost as painful as the initial rejection. But this time it was different. It wasn't the pain of being spurned, but the agony of being desired in a way that frightened me. I spent the rest of the day in a trance. Myra returned, and although she said nothing, her suspicious eyes told me she knew something had changed between the Alpha and me. She gave me a black wool dress, much simpler than the emerald one, but with a design that left my shoulders and back bare, hugging my thighs with a boldness that would never have been allowed on Silver Moon. When night fell and the bonfires in the main courtyard were lit, I put on the dress. I wore no girdles. I didn't try to hide anything. I let my body take up its space. As I entered the great hall, the noise of laughter and toasts faded a little. I felt the stares. They were no longer mocking; they were curious and, in some cases, desirous. I walked toward the main table, where Eryx sat on a dark wooden throne. Kael was at his side, and when he saw me, he nodded with a respect that made me feel a pang of pride. Eryx stood up. His gaze traveled over my body with sinful slowness, lingering on my cleavage and the way the dress hugged my buttocks and hips. He didn't hide his reaction; his pupils dilated and his wolf let out an internal howl that everyone present could feel. "Darlene," he said, extending his hand to me in front of all his warriors. "Sit beside me." I sat down, feeling the weight of the invisible crown he was placing on my head. During the banquet, Eryx did not touch me inappropriately, but his presence was constant. He served me food, leaned in to whisper comments about his men, and occasionally, his hand would "accidentally" brush against mine, sending sparks through my skin. It was slow torture. A game of seduction that was driving me crazy. I realized what he was doing: he was restoring my confidence, inch by inch, before claiming me. Near the end of the evening, a messenger rushed into the hall. He was pale and sweaty. He knelt before Eryx. "Alpha... news from the border," he gasped. "Jackson of Silver Moon has announced his wedding to Sarah in a fortnight. But there's more... they're sending patrols into the forest. They say they're looking for a 'traitor' who stole secrets from the pack before fleeing." Eryx's fury erupted immediately. The air in the hall turned icy. "Traitor?" Eryx roared, standing up. His voice made the candlesticks tremble. "Darlene took nothing but her own life. "Jackson says she has information about the North's defenses," the messenger continued. "He has put a price on her head. He wants her alive to execute her for treason... or dead if she resists." I felt the world spinning. Jackson wasn't content with humiliating me; he wanted me dead so that his marriage to Sarah would be perfect, without any "stains" from the past. Eryx turned to me. His hands clenched into fists, but when he spoke, his voice was deadly calm. "It seems your former Alpha wants to play war, Darlene. But he's forgotten something very important." "What?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Eryx leaned in, cupping my face in his hands in front of the entire fortress. His thumbs caressed my lips with a promise of violence and protection. "He forgot that you are now under the protection of the Blood Pack. And we don't give up what is ours. Ever." Eryx let go of me with such force that it took my breath away, but before leaving the room, he turned around, his eyes glowing scarlet red. "Tell me, Darlene... Do you think Jackson will be able to sleep tonight knowing that you are now sleeping under my roof, or should I go tell him myself?"POV DARLENE Dawn found me with muscles screaming in pain, but my mind was clearer than ever. Eryx had left me in the infirmary with a clear order to rest, but the stillness of the stone walls suffocated me. I needed to move. I needed to feel that the ground beneath my feet belonged to me, not because of an Alpha's permission, but because of my own ability to inhabit it. I slung the leather bag over my shoulder and secured the obsidian dagger to my thigh. The weight of the weapon was a constant reminder that I was no longer the wolf hiding behind marigold petals. I left through the west postern, avoiding the main patrols. My goal was the Whispering Edge, a dense area where Blood Moss grew, essential for the deep wounds that warriors brought back from the border. I walked for an hour, using the stealth techniques Eryx had shown me. "Don't step on the dry leaves, Darlene. Let your weight distribute to the front of your foot." His words echoed in my head with the rhythm of my breath
POV DARLENE The early morning cold in the lands of the Blood Wolves wasn't just a matter of climate; it was a physical presence that penetrated to the bone, reminding you every second that here, nature had no mercy on the weak. Eryx had woken me before the first ray of sunlight touched the granite peaks, dragging me out of the warm furs with a single growled command: "Move." We walked in silence along a steep path that skirted a gorge. My lungs burned from the thin air at this altitude, and my thighs, the ones Jackson always looked at with disdain, worked hard to keep me upright on the loose stone. Eryx walked ahead of me, moving with the agility of a shadow. His broad shoulders and tattooed back tensed with every step, and I couldn't help but stare at the play of his muscles beneath his skin. "Have you had enough of staring, little wolf, or do you need a break to finish cataloging my scars?" Eryx said without stopping, his voice laden with dark amusement. I blushed violently,
POV DARLENE Dawn at the Blood Wolves' fortress did not arrive with the singing of birds, but with the sound of metal striking stone and the roars of training that made the walls of my new prison vibrate. I woke up wrapped in heavy furs, feeling the icy mountain air bite my bare shoulders. For a second, panic gripped my chest as I didn't recognize the carved rock ceiling, until the stabbing pain in my sternum reminded me of reality: Jackson had broken me, and Eryx had claimed me. I dressed in the leather and wool clothes Myra had thrown at me the night before. Unlike Silver Moon's oppressive silks, these garments hugged my curves with brutal honesty. The leather clung to my thighs and hips, highlighting my figure rather than trying to hide it under layers of useless fabric. When I looked at my reflection in a bowl of water, I didn't see the ashamed wolf who had fled the central square. I saw a woman who was beginning to resemble the wild environment that surrounded her. "Are you
POV DARLENE The rhythmic movement of Eryx's footsteps should have kept me alert, but the heat emanating from his body was a sedative drug for my exhaustion. It wasn't Jackson's warm heat; it was a roaring bonfire that seemed to want to devour the cold that rejection had left in my bones. When we finally crossed the black iron gates of his fortress, the sound of metal striking stone brought me back to reality. Eryx set me down with a brusqueness that was not meant to hurt me, but to test me. My bare feet touched the cold stone floor and I staggered. Around us, the fortress was not the nightmarish place described in the legends of Silver Moon, but it was not a welcoming home either. It was a city of stone and fire, built in the bowels of the mountain. "Eryx!" A loud, raspy voice broke the silence of the central courtyard. A tall man, his torso crisscrossed with battle scars and one arm made of metal engraved with runes that glowed blue, approached us. His gaze fixed on me with a
POV DARLENE The crunch of branches under my bare feet was the only sound reminding me that I was still alive. The emerald dress, the one my mother bought to hide my "imperfections," was now a silk trap that tangled in the brambles and cut my skin. I stopped at the edge of the River of Shadows, the natural boundary that separated civilization from the Silver Moon pack and the utter chaos of the Exiles' lands. I dropped to my knees, not to pray, but because my legs had finally given way. The pain of the bond broken by Jackson was physical agony; it felt as if invisible acid was running through my veins, burning the connection to my inner wolf. She was there, curled up in the back of my mind, whimpering in sheer terror. "Calm down," I whispered to the void, my voice coming out as a dry croak. "He can't hurt us anymore." I looked down at my feet. They were mangled, covered in mud and blood. As a healer, I knew that infection was my first enemy. I tore off a piece of my dress skirt
POV DARLENE The scent of lavender and calendula had always been my refuge, but today, the air in the infirmary felt heavy, almost suffocating. As I crushed the dry roots in my stone mortar, the rhythmic sound seemed to mark the countdown to my own execution. Or to my salvation. In the Silver Moon pack, hopes were luxuries that wolves like me didn't usually allow ourselves. I looked at my hands, stained with green sap and dirt. They weren't the delicate hands of a future Moon, according to my mother's standards. They were working hands, hands that knew every nerve and every tissue of a wounded wolf. But no one cared about my talent for saving lives if my hips didn't fit the aesthetic vision of the heir to the throne. "Darlene, for the Goddess's sake, are you still in here?" My mother Elena's voice entered the room before she did. She paused in the doorway, looking at me with a mixture of disappointment and panic. She was carrying the emerald dress she had forced me to buy. A dr







