ElaraThe morning light creeping through the narrow window is pale and cold, casting my chamber in shades of gray.I haven’t slept. Not really.Every time I close my eyes, I see Kael’s face as he turned away from me—hard, unyielding, shutting me out completely. The slam of the door echoes in my skull, louder than my heartbeat.I spent the night pacing like a caged animal, too hurt to cry, too angry to rest. By dawn, I’m hollow inside. Empty.A soft knock breaks the silence.“Elara?” Leira’s voice filters through the wood, cautious. “May I come in?”I hesitate, then whisper, “Yes.”The door opens, and she slips inside, carrying a folded bundle of clean linens. She studies me for a long moment, taking in my rumpled dress, my tangled hair, the exhaustion etched into my face.“You need air,” she says simply. “And a task.”I shake my head. “I’m not—”“No arguments.” Her tone sharpens slightly, though her eyes are kind. “The healer’s wing is running low on supplies after the battle. These n
KaelI taste her on my lips long after we return to the stronghold.Her scent clings to me, sweet and wild, a constant torment. Every step I take, every breath I draw, is filled with the memory of her soft gasp, the way her body melted against mine, the fire that roared between us when I finally gave in.And I hate it.I hate myself for losing control.That kiss was a mistake. A dangerous, reckless mistake that could cost us both everything.I should have never touched her.I knew the rules from the start.She is here to breed, nothing more.⸻When Garrick offered her in trade, I hadn’t cared about the girl’s name, her face, her past. She was a tool. A body to carry my heir. The only chance to secure my pack’s future before my curse rotted me from the inside out.Ironhide needs an heir to remain stable. Without one, my death would splinter the pack and invite our enemies to tear us apart.I couldn’t risk mating a true mate. Not when every woman I’ve ever loved has been destroyed by my
ElaraThe forest is silent now, but the silence feels wrong.It’s heavy, oppressive, thick with the metallic tang of blood. My boots crunch over fallen leaves as we walk, and each step feels like I’m sinking deeper into a dream I can’t wake from. Or maybe a nightmare.Kael hasn’t spoken since the fight. Not a single word.He walks ahead of me, a dark shadow cutting through the pale morning light. His shoulders are tense, his massive frame radiating barely contained fury. Not at me—I think—but at the rogues we left behind, at Garrick, at himself. Maybe at all of it.I don’t know what to say to him.I keep my distance, though every instinct screams to move closer. My body remembers the moment he shifted—how he’d placed himself between me and danger without hesitation. The way he’d fought like a storm unleashed, savage and beautiful and terrifying all at once.And when it was over…When he turned to me, his chest heaving, golden eyes burning, blood dripping from his claws—I hadn’t been
Kael The dawn air is sharp and cold, slicing through the courtyard like a blade. My warriors move with efficient precision, forming patrol lines as the day’s orders are barked across the grounds. It should bring me a measure of reassurance, seeing them ready, alert.It doesn’t.The unease coiling in my gut has nothing to do with our defenses. It’s something far more dangerous.It’s her.Elara’s scent has been gnawing at me since the moment I woke.Or rather, the lack of it.I’d expected to smell her the second I stepped into the corridor. She’s always there, a quiet, constant presence lingering like wildflowers and rain. But today… nothing. The emptiness is wrong, jarring, like walking into a room where a fire has just been extinguished.At first, I told myself it was nothing. That she was still sleeping, curled in her bed, safe where I’d ordered her to remain.But now, with the sun climbing higher and still no sign of her, that unease sharpens into something primal.Fear.Not for me
ElaraThe silence between us has become unbearable.It’s a living thing, wrapping around my throat until every breath feels stolen.Kael hasn’t spoken to me since last night. Not really. He gave me orders, not words. Instructions, not comfort. When I looked into his eyes, I saw a storm brewing there—a storm that terrified me far more than the rogues at our gates.Because I’m starting to wonder if I’m not fighting just Garrick anymore.I’m fighting Kael, too.I pace the confines of my chamber, my bare feet whispering against the stone floor. The walls feel closer today, the shadows darker. I’ve been locked inside like a prisoner, “for my safety,” Kael said.But I don’t feel safe. I feel… trapped.My thoughts circle endlessly, replaying the conversation we had last night.The way his jaw tightened when I asked if he trusted me.The split-second hesitation before he answered.The silence that screamed louder than any words.He doesn’t trust me.And if he doesn’t trust me, he’ll never see
KaelThe stronghold has become a cage.Not for Elara. For me.Every corridor, every whisper, every sidelong glance feels like a blade at my back. The attack two nights ago was a declaration of war, and my warriors want blood. But instead of leading them into battle, I’m trapped here, chasing ghosts.Or worse—chasing shadows that may lead me to her.The spy is real. The tracks our scouts found don’t lie. A rogue or Bloodfang wolf is somewhere within my borders, moving unseen among my people.And yet, every time I try to focus on the hunt, my mind drifts back to Elara.The way she flinched when I last touched her, as though my hand burned her.The bruises fading from her skin, reminders of the fight with Leira.The way her eyes seem to search mine, desperate for something I can’t give her.I’ve been avoiding her, keeping my distance. It’s the only way to keep her safe—from my curse and from the suspicions building around her like storm clouds.But no matter how far I step back, my wolf