I woke to the scent of rosewood and silk.

I scratched my eyes open slowly and then realized the sheets beneath me were impossibly soft like petals warmed by sunlight and the air tasted like expensive incense. I blinked against the morning glow leaking through sheer ivory curtains because I wasn’t used to waking up to such. My life was a life of darkness. My limbs were extremely heavy and my mind fogged.

I narrowed my eyes in confusion.

This… wasn’t Thorne’s bed.

I sat up too fast.

My head spun.

This wasn’t even his room.

Gone were the black stone walls and cold dominance of his quarters. Here, everything shimmered in golds and deep maroons the kind of room you’d dream of as a child but learn to fear as a woman. Velvet drapes. A glowing chandelier. And on the far end…

My eyes slowly broadened as I realized who was in front of me.

Draven.

He was shirtless.

His back was to me but I could see the reflection of his face through a mirror. His muscles were rippling as he pulled a shirt over his head, but it only made it worse seeing the tight lines of his body stretch and flex like he was carved by war and wickedness. His tattoos curled down one arm and across the edge of his waistline, disappearing where I suddenly wanted to look more than I should.

My throat went dry.

I remembered that body from when we were young when we swam in creeks and played under trees, before the world darkened. But this body? This man?

He was no cousin in the way I once understood the word.

“You’re awake,” he said, turning.

Oh goodness! voice was warm and Smooth like melted chocolate poured over broken glass.

I blinked at him. “Dra…. how did I get here?”

He didn’t answer me. He just smiled, walking slowly toward the bed with that same lazy confidence he always had. His eyes…those piercing, wicked grey eyes drank in every inch of my body under the silk sheet like I was still on that auction platform. His gaze didn’t leer. It lingered so soft but still Dangerous.

I pulled the sheet up instinctively.

“You looked like you needed rest,” he murmured, sitting at the edge of the bed. “And peace. Thorne… doesn’t offer peace I suppose.”

“Did he send me here?” I asked lost in his eyes.

He leaned in, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. “Does it matter?”

I should’ve flinched.

I didn’t.

His fingers were warm. His touch was nothing like Thorne’s less demanding, more curious. And it made me shiver. Gods, why did it feel good?

“You always hated the cold as a child,” he said, voice soft. “Do you remember the willow grove behind the village? We used to hide there.” He chuckled softly while his eyes still glued to mine.

I remembered.

I remembered his laugh. The way he’d sneak bread from the kitchens and split it with me. I remembered our secret games. Our almost-kisses in the dark. I never thought anything of it back then just innocent, forbidden affection between two lonely kids. Life was so sweet before my whole life changed with the curse. I wish it never happened.

But now…

His hand slid down my shoulder.

Now it was different.

The way he touched me felt like a promise and a warning all at once. My body betrayed me, heat pooling low in my belly, my thighs pressing closer together. I hated how foreign it all was. I hated how good it felt to be wanted like this. My chest rose and fell faster.

“Draven…” I whispered, voice cracking.

He smiled again, softer this time. “Relax, little cousin. No one’s going to hurt you here.” His eyes spoke to me more.

Then he reached under the sheets.

Not far, just his palm pressing against my waist tenderly with a mighty grip. But I felt it all through me like a bolt of lightning. My skin burned and my breath hitched.

I should’ve stopped him but I didn’t.

“Why am I… why does my body feel so… weird?”

He chuckled low. “That’s heat. It’s your wolf, Ravia. She’s waking up.” He whispered and it raised goosebumps.

His thumb circled lightly against my skin. The silk sheets slipped down just enough to show the top of my breasts and I was so lost in his eyes I didn’t bother raising the sheets up plus I loved the feeling that came with his touch. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. My nipples pebbled in the cool air. I had never felt this way.

I saw his eyes drop just once but he didn’t pounce.

He leaned forward slowly, lips brushing my jaw while my heart raced, spiraling.

“I’m not Thorne,” he whispered against my neck. “I won’t hurt you.”

I closed my eyes and trembled but in a good way. I could feel wetness in between my thighs, something I had never felt before.

His scent, which was leather and pine and something dark, filled my lungs. My body responded faster than my mind could keep up. My breath trembled as his lips grazed my skin again… closer to my ear this time. My thighs clenched.

A tiny, shameful gasp escaped me.

He heard it.

“Do you like this?” he murmured, his tongue teasing just below my ear.

“I… I don’t know…” I breathed.

“Yes, you do,” he said, kissing down my throat.

When he kissed me, it was soft… too soft. Like a test. A trap. And I kissed him back, not out of desire, but because I didn’t know who I was anymore. I didn’t know who he was anymore.

His tongue slipped against mine, tasting and drawing. I moaned before I even realized it. I wanted more. He slowly left my lips and started kissing me softly on my chin, then my neck and to my cleavage. He tenderly grabbed my left breast and his tongue circulated on the tip of my nipples and oh gosh it was a sensation I can’t explain. My body tightened up. He left it and then returned to my lips.

And then he pulled back.

My lips were swollen. My skin flushed. My core ached, wet with a kind of need I didn’t have the words for. I was horrified. Mortified. Hungry.

“Draven…” I whispered again.

He touched my cheek gently, thumb brushing my lower lip.

“You’re safe here,” he lied.

And I wanted to believe him.

I needed to believe him.

Because the alternative was too cruel: that I was just another piece of flesh being passed around between monsters who used to call themselves family.

I looked at him and saw the boy I once knew… but also the man who now owned the keys to my cage.

He didn’t mark me.

Not yet.

But I knew somewhere deep and trembling inside that he’d already claimed something.

Something no one had touched before.

Something even Thorne hadn’t reached.

And I hated how much I wanted him to do it again.

When he smiled at me, I saw fangs. Not because he was a wolf but because I was prey pretending to enjoy the hunt.