Elara 5

Elara knew she might have completely lost her mind.

Everyone in the surrounding clans knew—and firmly believed—that the Alpha of Silverhollow was cursed.

His two official brides had died horrific deaths. So had the five breeders he had chosen over the years. Every single one of them had perished while carrying his child, fueling a terrifying rumor that the Alpha of Silverhollow’s unborn offspring carried a deadly seed of death, just like their father.

Why did everyone believe such a thing?

Because Gareth’s biological mother had died immediately after giving birth to him.

And now, his offspring were believed to kill any woman who carried them before she could give birth.

A rumor far more horrifying than death itself.

“Do you even understand what you’re offering?” Gareth asked, his piercing gaze fixed on her.

The girl’s offer to carry his child sounded more like an insult than a negotiation.

“I do, my lord. I know exactly what I’m offering.”

“Are you sure? You’ve never heard what happened to my brides and breeders?”

“I’ve heard the stories. They say you…” Elara swallowed past the bitterness in her throat. “…are cursed.”

Elara knew she was standing on the razor’s edge between life and death. So if Gareth decided to wrap his hands around her throat and kill her right now, so be it.

Dying here would still be better than being sent back to Redlake and becoming a target for Jonathan’s pack all over again.

Gareth laughed.

It wasn't a happy laugh.

It was mocking, laced with menace—the kind of laughter that could make anyone’s blood run cold.

Elara was no exception.

If her body hadn't been bound so tightly, she might have already collapsed at his feet, begging for mercy and clinging to his legs for protection.

But she was helpless.

All she could do was pour her desperation into words.

“You know I’m cursed, yet you’re willing to become part of that curse?”

“Because that is still better than becoming prey to dishonorable werewolves,” Elara replied logically. “Choosing to give myself willingly is far more dignified than having myself taken by force.”

Gareth considered the implications of the girl’s words. He stepped closer, narrowing the distance between them. Even bound with her feet barely touching the ground, she looked impossibly small beside his towering frame.

Gareth’s right hand reached out, his strong fingers closing around Elara’s chin.

ZAP!

That strange sensation struck him again.

Heat surged through Gareth’s entire body, concentrating in one particular place and sending his wolf into a frenzy.

“Aren’t you afraid of dying?” Gareth whispered, staring directly into Elara’s brilliant green eyes.

“I am. I’m afraid to die. But if I have to die by your hand… I’d still choose that.”

Her words were firm, matching the unwavering light in her eyes.

Her desire to survive was far stronger than the fear consuming her, and Gareth could sense it with startling clarity.

Whatever had happened within the Redlake Pack, this girl would rather die than take another step back into it.

And as far as Gareth was concerned, her offer was hardly a loss.

“Alpha?” Cole gently touched Gareth’s shoulder, attempting to pull his Alpha from the silence that had settled around him.

Gareth released Elara’s chin.

“Take her back to the cell. I’ll decide what punishment she deserves after I receive an official report from Redlake.”

At the mention of her pack again, Elara nearly groaned in frustration.

Two guards suddenly emerged from the darkness and unlocked all the chains binding her.

The moment the restraints fell away, Elara’s limp body was dragged from the interrogation post and roughly thrown into a holding cell.

The cell was just as dim as the interrogation chamber, though slightly more habitable. A pile of dry straw provided something for Elara to sleep on, while a small opening near the top of the stone wall allowed a faint breeze and a sliver of light to filter inside.

At least I’m not completely trapped in a dark, airless place…

Elara gave a bitter little smile to herself.

Elara crawled into a corner of the cell and curled up, wrapping her trembling arms tightly around her knees. If Gareth decided to send her back to Redlake tomorrow or the day after, Elara was determined to find a way to end her own life before a single Redlake soldier could lay a hand on her.

Meanwhile, along the stone corridor leading toward the main castle, Beta Cole kept pace with his Alpha.

“You’re not seriously considering her offer, are you, Alpha?” Cole asked, his concern impossible to hide.

For the past ten years, Gareth had been obsessed with one thing above all else: producing an heir to carry on the Silverhollow bloodline.

Gareth had been married twice, but both marriages had ended in tragedy when his wives mysteriously died while carrying his children.

After the deaths of his two wives, Gareth had turned to breeders to carry his bloodline. Yet the same dark fate continued to repeat itself. All five breeders had died at different stages of their pregnancies.

Cruel rumors about the deaths of Gareth’s wives and breeders had spread throughout the surrounding territories, eventually reaching even other packs.

But the most horrifying rumor of all was the belief that Gareth himself had been born under a deadly curse—a curse that had claimed his own mother’s life at his birth and had now been passed down to his unborn children.

Every child Gareth conceived was believed to kill its own mother from within before it could ever be born.

But the truth behind those bloody tragedies…

Only Gareth and Cole knew it.

“Find out everything about her,” Gareth ordered coldly, pausing for a moment. “Her background, her relationship with Redlake’s leadership, and the real reason she fled without a trace.”

That was all Gareth said before continuing down the corridor, leaving Cole standing there, frozen in place with a thousand questions swirling through his mind.