Semua Bab Bound to the Enemy’s Bed: Bab 1 - Bab 10

The smell of blood filled the cool evening air long before the scouts came back.Elaria Veyne stopped moving at the healer's table, and her fingers tightened around the pestle she was using to crush. The familiar metallic taste made her stomach turn. Blood always signaled terrible news.The mist outside hung to the pine trees like a suffocating veil, and the pack's meeting place was filled with the low buzz of scared voices. The Veyne Pack was used to the heavy, exhausted silence that came over the wolves when they were too hungry, hurt, or broken to talk. But tonight, there were whispers. Nervous, restless whispers that meant something had happened.“Elaria!”Rhyven Solace stormed into the tent, and the flap flew open. His normally placid visage was now rigid with worry. Sweat saturated his bronze-brown hair, which was plastered to his forehead, and his green eyes were burning with rage.“You need to come. Now.”Her heart sank. She dropped the pestle and rubbed her hands on her apron

The leather straps creaked beneath the pressure of Draven Kaelith's force.Elaria stepped back, instinctively reaching for the silver sword secured to her thigh while her pulse thundered in her ears. Given the significant volume of blood he has lost, he ought not to be conscious.Nevertheless, it was evident that the wolf within him was indifferent to injuries or rationale.His muscular cords constricted as he pulled against the constraints, his muscles bulging beneath torn fabric. In the dim firelight, his amber eyes gleamed, no longer obscured by anguish but sharp, wild, and insatiable.With a more assertive tone than she experienced, she commanded, "Recline.”He ignored her, gazing at her with such intensity that it caused her breath to falter. Primal and territorial, the sound of his wolf snarling deeply in his chest resonated across the environment.“Mine,” he snarled again, this time with greater intensity, as if the utterance originated from the beast within him rather than the

The healer's chamber was silent save for the slight crackle of the fire.Elaria wiped the perspiration from her brow while sitting on the side of the bed, her fingers quivering a little. She didn't want to acknowledge how exhausted she was from the healing.As he lay motionless beneath the furs, Draven Kaelith's enormous chest began to rise and fall with slow, steady breaths. Her touch had caused his wounds to close, the violent gashes turning into faint scars.He looked almost… peaceful.Too peaceful.Elaria frowned, her gaze lingering on his face despite herself. He appeared younger without his typical frown and the ruthless gleam she had witnessed on battlegrounds. Softer.She nearly forgot who he was because of it.Almost.She shifted back a little and murmured under her breath, "Don't you dare look harmless." "You're still the idiot who set half of my pack on fire.”As though it didn't agree, her wolf shifted uneasily inside her chest.Traitor.She sighed in frustration and force

Like the snarl of a predator, the howling wind tore through the mountain pass, leaving behind ash and snow. As she scurried forward, the hammering of Elaria's boots on the stone barely muffled the frenzied rhythm of her heartbeat echoing inside the small tunnel walls.Behind her, Draven moved with lethal grace, his breath low and shallow. He wasn’t speaking, not since the moment the rogue’s dying words had fallen like poison into the air:“The Alpha’s mate…”It clung to them like smoke—impossible to explain, impossible to erase.But there was no time to process it. No time to run from the truth.They weren’t alone anymore.A swirl of hair and claws crashed into the den's small mouth as the first onslaught came from the shadows. Draven made a snap decision. The snarl that tore from his throat didn't sound human, and his body jerked instinctively.It didn’t sound broken anymore.Elaria fell back as Draven launched himself at the intruder, their bodies colliding in a vicious tumble of sn

As the patrol arrived, the snow crunched under their boots. The cavern's mouth was illuminated by flickering light from the torches they carried, giving the entire area a sinister, golden glow. The air still smelled strongly of blood.With one hand on the hilt of a stolen blade and the other tied possessively around Elaria's wrist chains, Draven stood still in the center of it all, his bare chest smeared with drying crimson.With her eyes downcast and her heart pounding like a drum beneath her skin, she knelt at his feet.This was the game now.Prisoner. Captive. Enemy.Even though his touch on the chain was gentle. Even though she could still feel the heat of his mouth on hers from moments ago. Even though the bond between them vibrated like a live wire.The Kaelith wolves spread out in a semicircle, weapons drawn, eyes darting between the carnage of rogue corpses and their Alpha.Draven's second in command, Weyric, was in the front of the group. A slender man with a stone-carved fac