Chapter Four – Shackles of the Pack

The forest reeked of blood and smoke. The rogues were gone, their bodies broken or scattered, but the night still hummed with the echo of battle. My pulse hadn’t slowed, my breath still sharp in my chest.

Dorian stood across from me, his chest rising and falling, his claws still tipped red. But his eyes weren’t on the corpses. They were on me.

On what I had done.

The roots still twitched faintly where they had snared the rogue, like they were alive, waiting for another command. The sight made my stomach twist. I didn’t know how I had called them, didn’t know if I could stop it from happening again.

“Selene,” Dorian said, his voice rough.

I flinched.

He took a step forward, and I stumbled back. “Don’t,” I whispered.

His jaw tightened. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You already did.” My words slipped out before I could stop them, bitter and trembling.

He froze, his face unreadable. The silence stretched between us until it hurt. Then he dragged a hand through his hair, muttering something under his breath before finally saying, “We need to leave. It’s not safe here anymore.”

I shook my head. “I’m not going back.”

“Yes, you are.” His tone sharpened, that Alpha edge that made wolves bow without thinking. “Your powers whatever that was—everyone will have felt it. If more rogues come”

“I can handle myself.”

“No, you can’t.” His voice cracked, rawer than before. “Not yet. You don’t even know what you are, Selene. You’ll get yourself killed.”

I bit down hard on my lip. The part of me that still wanted to believe him, to lean on him, to trust the mate bond, stirred painfully. But then the memory of his rejection flashed like a wound ripped open again.

“Why do you care now?” I demanded. “You broke me. You made it clear I wasn’t enough. So why pretend I matter to you?”

Dorian’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “Because you do matter.”

The words tore out of him like he hated saying them, like they cost him more than blood. My breath caught, my anger warring with something softer I didn’t want to feel.

He stepped closer, slower this time, like he was approaching a wild animal. “Selene, I”

A howl cut through the night, high and mournful. Pack.

Within moments, figures burst into the clearing. Warriors, their eyes darting from the dead rogues to the broken earth at my feet. Whispers spread fast, sharper than blades.

“She did that.”

“Impossible.”

“Goddess, look at her.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, shame and fear tangling tight. I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing I could disappear.

“Enough,” Dorian snapped, his Alpha power rolling through the clearing. The whispers died instantly, though the stares remained. “Form patrols. Sweep the borders. No one speaks of this outside this circle.”

The warriors obeyed, but not without glancing back at me, eyes wide with suspicion, fear, awe.

Dorian turned back to me, his gaze heavy. “Come.”

“I said no.”

His voice dropped low, almost pleading. “Selene. Please. If you stay out here, you won’t last the night.”

I wanted to argue. Every instinct screamed to run, to never step foot in that packhouse again. But exhaustion was setting in, heavy and thick. My body trembled from the fight, from the power I didn’t understand, from the weight of his eyes.

And the truth was cruel. I had nowhere else to go.

My silence was all the answer he needed. He moved closer, slow, and when I didn’t pull away, he reached out. His hand brushed my arm, hesitant, like he expected me to burn him. A spark flickered between us, the bond faint but not dead. My wolf whined deep inside.

I hated her for it.

He led me back through the trees, the night air thick and heavy. By the time the packhouse came into view, my heart was a mess of anger and confusion.

The great wooden building glowed with light, voices spilling from inside. As we stepped through the doors, silence fell. Dozens of eyes turned on us. On me.

I wanted to vanish.

“Alpha,” someone muttered, bowing to Dorian. But their gaze slid to me with something darker.

Dorian’s voice was firm. “She is with me.”

The words rippled through the room, but they didn’t wash away the stares. Whispers bloomed again, hushed but sharp.

“Rejected.”

“Something’s wrong with her.”

“Did you see the roots?”

My stomach churned. I wanted to scream, to run, but Dorian’s hand on my back kept me moving. He led me upstairs, away from the murmurs, to a quiet hall where the noise faded.

He stopped outside a door and pushed it open. The room was small but warm, a bed against the wall, a window overlooking the dark woods.

“You’ll stay here,” he said. “For now.”

I crossed my arms. “You think you can just lock me away?”

His eyes darkened. “It’s not a cage. It’s protection.”

“Protection or prison, what’s the difference when you’re the one deciding?”

His jaw worked, his chest rising and falling hard. “You think I wanted this?” His voice cracked, sudden and raw. “You think rejecting you didn’t tear me apart? I did it because I had to. Because if I hadn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

I froze, my heart lurching. “What are you talking about?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he turned sharply, his back to me, his shoulders rigid. “Rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

The door shut behind him, leaving me alone with the echo of his words.

I sank onto the bed, my body heavy, my mind racing. My hands still tingled with that strange power, the memory of the earth moving at my command.

Protect me from what?

The question burned in me, but no answer came.

Only the sound of the pack below, whispering my name like it was already a curse.

To be continued…