Elena – First Person POV---

I woke to soft knocking at my door three quiet taps, followed by the creak of it opening. The light outside told me it was still early morning, but several maids had already entered the room, their hands full with fabrics and boxes.

One of them gave me a short nod. “We’ve come to get you ready.”

“Ready… for what?” I asked, sitting up slowly.

None of them answered. They didn’t seem unkind just focused, like this was a routine they’d been trained for.

I stayed quiet. What was the point in asking again? I’d learned quickly that in this place, silence got you further than questions.

They helped me bathe, their hands gentle and quick. Then they dried my hair and brushed it out carefully, letting it fall in soft waves down my back. I barely looked at myself in the mirror. I didn’t feel like this version of myself belonged to me.

The dress they chose was long and deep blue, almost black. It shimmered when the light hit it, silver threads sewn along the hem and cuffs like stars stitched into midnight. The fabric hugged my waist before flowing softly down my legs. Off-shoulder. Bare skin.

They slipped silver cuffs onto my wrists, brushed a faint shimmer across my cheeks, and smoothed my skirt one last time.

Then one of them stepped back and said, “The master is waiting.”

---

I followed them through the hall and out the front doors.

The cold air hit my skin first. Then I saw the sleek black car waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Draven was already inside.

I hesitated, just for a breath. But one of the guards nodded for me to move, so I did, slowly, carefully. My heels clicked softly on the stone steps.

I opened the car door and slid in beside him.

The moment I sat down, his scent wrapped around me like heat, pine, smoke, and something darker beneath it. It filled my lungs, warmed my chest, and made my skin tingle in ways I didn’t want to admit.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t even look at me.

His gaze stayed fixed on the window, jaw tight, hands resting calmly on his legs like I wasn’t there at all.

The silence between us was sharp. I swallowed hard.

After a minute, I whispered, “Where are we going?”

His answer was short. “Pack meeting.”

And that was it.

---

The ride felt long, though it probably wasn’t. Every second was heavy with unspoken things. I tried not to look at him. Tried not to think about the way his presence pulled at something inside me tightening a string I hadn’t even known was tied to him.

When we finally arrived, the car pulled up in front of a massive hall lined with wolves.

Dozens of them.

Warriors. Elders. Betas. Members from packs I didn’t recognize.

The second Draven stepped out of the car, everything changed.

Wolves stopped talking. Heads dipped. The air shifted.

Like the land itself recognized who had arrived.

I stepped out after him, suddenly aware of every eye turning toward me.

Draven didn’t look at me, but his hand reached for me anyway.

His fingers curled around my waist firmly, and he leaned in close, his voice low:

“Stay close to me.”

My body tensed at the contact. Not from fear, but from something else.

The warmth of his hand burned through the thin fabric of my dress. My shoulder tingled. My spine straightened on instinct.

---

I hated how my body responded to him. Hated the way my skin lit up beneath his touch, how something deep in me leaned into it without my permission. His hand on my waist was steady, protective even, but it felt like fire had been pressed into my side. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe right. Every step I took beside him felt like I was walking a tightrope balancing between wanting to disappear and wanting him to look at me again, just once. His scent wrapped around me like something ancient and wild, like pine forests after a storm and smoke curling from burning wood. It clung to me. Invaded me. And the bond,whatever it was seemed to thrum in the space between our bodies, pulling at something invisible but real. I didn’t want to crave this closeness. I didn’t want to feel like I belonged anywhere near him. But I did. And no matter how many times I reminded myself that he hadn’t chosen me, my body kept betraying me with every glance, every breath, every aching second beside him.

I nodded.

---

He walked through the crowd like he owned it. And he did. The wolves moved aside for him, heads bowed, respect thick in the air. I stayed close at his side, just like he told me.

He spoke with a few high-ranking wolves, about land disputes, alliances, border reinforcements. I didn’t understand most of it.

I kept my head down. My eyes on the floor. My voice swallowed by silence.Then I heard a laugh behind me.

“She’s the Luna?” a woman said loudly. “Are you sure she wasn’t just picked up off the border?”

Another voice chuckled. “Maybe she’s just here to warm his bed.”

I felt the heat rise to my face. My hands clenched at my sides. I didn’t turn around. I didn’t speak. I just stood there and let the words sink into my skin like needles.

But then—

Draven turned.

Slowly. Calmly.

He looked directly at the woman who spoke, his voice as sharp as steel:

“Speak again, and you’ll find out what I do to those who insult what’s mine.”

Silence.

The woman’s smile vanished.

She bowed her head and backed away quickly.

My heart thudded in my chest. I stared at Draven.

He didn’t look at me. Didn’t explain. Just turned back to the conversation like nothing had happened.

I didn’t know what to feel.

Gratitude? Shock?

Maybe he only said that because he had to. Because I was marked. Because, in his world, I belonged to him.I was just property.

Still… something inside me stirred.

---

After a while, I quietly excused myself.

No one noticed.

I slipped through the side door and followed the stone path around the hall until I found a garden tucked between the trees.

It was beautiful.

Full of life. Colors. Peace.

Flowers of every shape and size, blooming in neat rows and wild corners. The smell of lavender and fresh grass wrapped around me.

I knelt beside a bed of wildflowers, touching the soft petals gently between my fingers.

And for the first time in days, I breathed.

I remembered everything in those quiet minutes. The night I was attacked. The teeth in my shoulder. The burning. The Council’s decree. The way Draven had looked at me in the hallway… and then turned away.

So much had happened. So quickly. And I still didn’t understand what any of it meant.

Why me?

Why him?

Why couldn’t I stop feeling him inside my chest like a heartbeat that didn’t belong to me?

The flowers were soft. The sun was warm. The air didn’t hurt here.

And just for a moment, I let myself believe I was safe.

---

Then I heard it.

A voice behind me, low, rough, and entirely too close.

“Are you just going to keep sticking your nose in those flowers?”

My body went still.

I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

My skin already knew.