Chapter five: A Pact with the Dying Alpha

ELIRA

My eyes flew open, my chest heaving as I pulled a ragged gasp of air into my lungs.

The lingering scent of ash and pine from the misty forest burned in the back of my throat. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs, echoing the terrifying, gold-eyed beast's voice inside my skull.

You finally came.

I tried to pull back, but a sudden, suffocating pressure anchored me in place.

My gaze snapped downward. I wasn't on the small daybed near the wall. Somehow, while trapped in that intense, suffocating dream, I had moved across the room in my sleep. I was standing right at the edge of the grand bed, and a long, broad hand was wrapped like a steel vice around my right wrist.

Rurik's hand.

I froze, my breath catching. His skin was surprisingly warm against mine, the pulse in his thick wrist beating in erratic, heavy thumps. I stared at his face, getting my first close look at him without the panic of the earlier tests.

Alpha Rurik was lethal, even in repose. He had a harsh, sculpted jawline dark with stubble, high cheekbones, and broad, powerful shoulders that filled out the white linen sheets. His dark lashes rested motionless against his sharp pale skin. His eyes were closed. He was completely unconscious, yet his fingers held me with unbelievable physical force.

I tugged gently against his grip. His knuckles turned white, holding me firm.

Suddenly, an electric shock shot through the point where our skin met, flooding my mind with a wave of cold, sharp awareness that wasn't my own. The temporary astral bridge forged in my dream snapped wide open, pouring his consciousness directly into my thoughts.

He wasn't brain-dead. He wasn't in a natural medical coma.

A dark silver toxin was coursing through his bloodstream, thick and suffocating, wrapping around his internal beast like heavy chains and trapping his spirit in the astral realm. But he was entirely awake in his own mind. He had felt every person who entered his room. He had heard every word spoken.

Look at me, little female, his voice echoed inside my head, deep, raspy, and laced with absolute, terrifying authority.

I gasped, staring at his motionless face. His lips didn't move, but the dark projection of his voice vibrated straight through my bones.

You felt me in the woods, Rurik's spirit growled, a dark, dangerous thread of amusement lacing his tone. They think I am a helpless corpse laying in this bed. They don't know my mind is watching every snake in this house.

I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling in his grip. "Who... who did this to you?" I thought fiercely, hoping the link would carry my words to him.

Laron, Rurik spat, the name dripping with lethal malice. My own blood. The uncle sitting on my Council. He administered the dark silver poison into my drink six months ago to freeze my body. Now he orchestrates this pathetic surrogacy selection from behind the curtains, planning to plant a fake heir using a puppet female so he can claim full control of the Larkspur territory.

My mind reeled as the sheer scale of the deception clicked into place. The surrogacy wasn't just a desperate attempt to save a bloodline. It was a hostile takeover.

He thinks he has won, Rurik's voice thundered softly in my mind, his dark wolf aura flaring like a localized storm beneath his skin. He doesn't know you bridged the gap. Your presence is burning away the toxin's hold on my spiritual core.

A sharp, familiar chime broke through the heavy silence of the chamber.

My coat sat draped over the back of a nearby chair, and my phone screen was glowing bright blue in the dim light. Warwick's grip loosened just a fraction, allowing me enough slack to lean over and snatch the device with my free hand.

A text message sat on the lock screen. It was from Dorian.

Enjoy being a broodmare. Naya and I just announced our engagement to the Nightswirl Council. Thanks for settling your family's debts.

I stared at the glowing words. The last tiny ember of hurt burned out, leaving behind a cold, desolate wasteland of pure, unadulterated fury. They had sold me. They had mocked me. They thought I was going to be broken, discarded, and forgotten in a foreign pack house.

I looked down at Alpha Rurik.

His physical body remained still, his long fingers relaxing their tight grip around my wrist, slipping back onto the white sheets. But the electric warmth of his aura still lingered on my skin, steady and powerful.

I leaned down, resting my hands flat on the mattress beside his broad chest, my voice dropping into a cold, lethal whisper that filled the quiet room.

"Help me destroy them," I said, my eyes locking onto his closed lids, "and I'll help you wake up."