Elara 4

“State your name and the name of your pack.”

The deep voice shattered the silence, coming from the broad-shouldered man standing before her.

Elara could feel her entire body bound tightly against the thick wooden post, the tips of her feet barely brushing the ground. Pain radiated through every inch of her body, making it difficult to think clearly. The vicious throbbing in her head only made her vision blur in and out.

Elara blinked again, struggling to focus her eyes and identify the man speaking to her.

“Answer me!” the man commanded.

CRACK!

A vicious lash struck the stone floor, sparks flying through the darkness.

Elara had no idea what the whip was made of, but she knew one thing for certain.

It would hurt like hell if it ever came down on her skin.

“E-Elara…” Her throat felt raw and painfully dry. “I’m Elara Moon.”

“Which pack are you from?”

“Redlake. I’m an Omega from the Redlake Pack.”

“Why did you come here? Why did you cross our border?”

Our border? Which border is he talking about? Elara wondered in confusion.

“I-I don’t know…”

What she meant was that she didn’t know whose territory she had crossed—not that she didn’t know why she had been running.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know! You were sent by the Redlake Pack to spy on us, weren’t you?”

“No!”

The shout scraped painfully against her already raw throat.

“By the Moon Goddess, I’m not a spy!” she insisted, struggling to explain through the sharp pain pounding inside her skull.

Can’t I just pass out again?

“I…” Elara shook her head, hoping the motion would somehow ease the pounding in her temples. “I was only trying to escape those rogues,” she said, her voice weakening again.

“Then why were those rogues chasing you? Did they rob you?” The man scoffed. “You certainly don’t look rich enough to make yourself worth robbing.”

The insult was unmistakable, but Elara was far too exhausted to take offense.

“They tried to rape me… I was only trying to save myself.”

“What a cliché. Every spy has some tragic story ready to make people believe them.”

“I’m not a spy!” Elara insisted again, forcing out what little strength remained in her voice. “I… I was only trying to save myself.”

“You left your pack without permission?”

Elara fell silent. There was no way she could reveal the real reason she had fled—even if these men had already heard the rumors about her. She was a wanted fugitive now.

Whoever these two men were, Elara knew nothing good could come of this.

Worst of all, if they were from Silverhollow, she might be sent back to the Neutral Zone and treated as one of the rogues. But if they belonged to the Blackridge Pack, there was a good chance they would turn her over to Redlake.

Elara would rather be sent back to the Neutral Zone—even if it meant facing the rogues again—than fall into Jonathan’s hands.

“Why aren’t you answering?”

“I-I was gathering medicinal herbs in the forest when they found me and tried to assault me.” Elara was forced to fabricate an explanation. “Please, sir. I’m not a spy. Let me go and send me back to the Neutral Zone. I swear I’ll never enter your territory again.”

“Do you even know where you are right now?”

Elara shook her head again.

Ever since she had fled, she had completely lost her sense of direction. She had only one goal left.

To keep breathing.

“Then let’s inform the Redlake Alpha that one of his pack members is here. Let them come and collect you.”

The mere thought of Jonathan’s men coming to take her back sent Elara into a panic.

“No, sir! Please! I’d rather you kill me here than send me back there!” Elara screamed, terror lacing every word.

Her hysterical reaction made the second man, who had been sitting silently in the shadows, furrow his brow.

He had been observing her in silence.

The girl named Elara Moon was clearly in pain, but the fear and panic that seized her at the mention of Redlake were unmistakably genuine.

Even so, clan law was still the law.

She had crossed their border without permission, and the laws concerning fugitives applied.

Cole turned toward the man in the darkness, waiting for his command.

“Please, sir…” Elara sobbed. “Don’t send me back to them. I’ll do anything. Just… please don’t send me back…”

Heavy footsteps echoed across the stone floor.

The man who had remained silent until now finally rose and stepped out of the shadows.

Elara held her breath.

The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and powerfully built beneath a thick black cloak. His dark hair was tied back, accentuating the sharp contours of his face. When the torchlight fell across his features, Elara saw a pair of ice-blue eyes—and a fierce scar slashing from his forehead down across his left cheek.

Elara’s eyes widened.

Her breath caught as her entire body began to tremble violently.

“Alpha Gareth…” she whispered, her voice strangled.

So… I’m in Silverhollow territory?

“You know me?” Gareth asked, startled that the girl knew his name.

But what shocked him even more was the strange stir that once again swept through his chest—the same sensation he had felt when he touched and carried this girl several nights ago.

Apparently, she had no idea that she had been unconscious for more than two days.

Elara shook her head frantically.

She had never met Gareth in person. But rumors about the Alpha were common in Redlake—whispered among the servants, discussed by the Betas, and often mentioned with bitter hatred by Jonathan.

Gareth Grimshaw.

The feared Alpha of Silverhollow, respected by other clans, and despised above all by Jonathan.

The clues were unmistakable: the scar cutting across his face and those icy blue eyes, cold as the waters of an ancient lake.

Suddenly, another rumor flashed through Elara’s mind.

Rumor had it that the Alpha of Silverhollow desperately wanted an heir.

If this man truly was Alpha Gareth, then Elara had just found the only bargaining chip she could stake on her own survival.

“Don’t send me back to Redlake,” Elara pleaded, her voice trembling, yet her eyes remained fixed on Gareth’s.

“In exchange… I can give you an heir.”