Chapter 6. A Reluctant

The full moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glimmer over the Blackveil Pack’s territory, and Seraphina felt the chill of its light on her skin as she stood, poised and alert in the center of her chamber. The night had grown unusually silent, and that silence like a predator lying in wait had already set her senses tingling. It was a feeling she knew well, and one she could never ignore.

She had no time for fear, not when something dark and alarming was lurking just out of sight. The attack earlier had been a warning of that, she was certain. She had barely escaped the rogue’s grasp, but whoever was directing this wasn’t finished. If anything, they were only beginning.

Seraphina had spent the last few hours trying to push past the anxiety grinding at her chest, focusing on the feelings she’d had earlier, that early instinct that had warned her of the attack. She knew the curse binding her to Dorian had made their fates far more intertwined than either of them liked, but something had shifted between them an undeniable tension that simmered just beneath the surface, like a wildfire waiting to be ignited.

A knock on her door broke the stillness of the room.

Her heart stuttered, and she instinctively reached for the sword hidden beneath her pillow. There was only one person who would dare disturb her now, and that person was exactly who she didn’t want to see.

"Come in," Seraphina said, her voice calm despite the tightness in her throat.

The door opened, and there stood Dorian Nightbane, his tall frame blocking most of the doorway. His piercing blue eyes locked onto hers, as cold and intense as ever. He didn’t need to speak to command attention; his presence alone was enough to make the air crackle with energy.

He stepped into the room, the soft creak of the floorboards betraying his movement. “I need to know how you knew the attack was coming,” he demanded, his voice low, edged with a hint of something darker. “No one has been able to sense the rogues’ movements like that.”

Seraphina didn’t flinch. Her instincts told her not to trust him, not to give him any more information than he already had. The connection between them, forced though it was by the curse, was growing stronger every day. But it was also becoming more dangerous, more volatile.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied coolly, locking her gaze with his. “It was just a coincidence.”

Dorian’s eyes narrowed. He took a step forward, and Seraphina’s body instinctively tightened. “You don’t believe I’m that stupid, do you?”

“I don’t care what you believe,” she shot back, her voice sharp. “It doesn’t matter.”

He stepped closer still, his presence overpowering. He was so close now, she could feel the heat of his body against her skin, smell the earthiness of the forest clinging to his clothes. Her breath hitched in her chest, but she didn’t back down.

“I could have killed that rogue, you know,” he growled, his voice dangerously low, filled with that raw, animalistic edge that made her blood run cold. “But I didn’t.”

Seraphina felt her pulse quicken. He was too close. She didn’t want him anywhere near her, but the curse bound them in ways she couldn’t yet understand. She could feel it—this pull between them, this magnetic force that she couldn’t escape.

“You didn’t kill him because you wanted answers,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “And you won’t get them from me.”

Dorian’s jaw clenched. He stood there, eyes drilling into hers with an intensity that made her skin prickle. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence hanging thick in the air. Then, with a single motion, he reached out, grabbing her wrist in his firm grip, pulling her closer until their bodies were nearly pressed together.

Seraphina’s breath caught in her throat, her pulse pounding. She fought the urge to pull away, but the grip he had on her wrist was like iron. Her heart raced, not from fear, but from something else a strange, undeniable tension that sparked between them every time they were near each other.

“Tell me,” Dorian demanded, his voice rough, his breath warm against her face. “How did you know?”

“I don’t owe you anything,” she snapped, though the anger didn’t feel quite as fierce as it had before. “You don’t own me.”

He didn’t flinch. His eyes darkened, and she could feel the weight of his stare, as if he was trying to peer into the very depths of her soul. “I don’t need to own you to get what I want,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet authority. “And you will give me the answers I need.”

Seraphina’s chest tightened. She wasn’t sure whether it was the force of his words or the undeniable pull of the bond between them that made her blood run cold. She didn’t trust him, not for a second. But as much as she loathed admitting it, she could feel something else something far more dangerous, far more enticing shifting between them.

Her pulse quickened. Her breath came in shallow gasps. But she was determined to keep control.

“No,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving his. “You won’t get what you want from me. Not now, not ever.”

Dorian studied her for a long moment, his grip loosening on her wrist but his gaze never wavering. He seemed to be weighing something, his jaw working as if he were trying to come to a decision. Finally, he sighed, releasing her entirely and stepping back.

“I can’t force you to tell me,” he said quietly. “But know this, Seraphina: You’re playing a dangerous game.”

She took a deep breath, willing her body to relax, willing herself to fight the strange, magnetic pull that was beginning to take root in her chest. “I’m not playing anything,” she replied, her voice tinged with defiance. “I’m surviving.”

Dorian watched her for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, he turned on his heel and walked toward the door. “I’ll give you some space,” he said, his tone almost distant now, like he was already slipping back into that cold, impenetrable Alpha mask he wore so well. “But don’t think this is over. I’ll get my answers eventually.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and Seraphina let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her body felt like a live wire, the tension still crackling in the air. But now that he was gone, she let her shoulders slump. She hated how he made her feel, how his presence affected her so completely.

The pull between them was undeniable. And it terrified her.

The next few days passed in a blur of activity. The rogue attacks had stopped for the time being, but the unrest in the pack hadn’t scattered. If anything, the tension had only grown more noticeable. The wolves in the pack were on edge, their mistrust of Seraphina evident in every glance they threw her way.

Despite the unease, Dorian had kept his distance, only speaking to her when absolutely necessary. His warnings from the night of the rogue attack still rang in her ears you’re playing a dangerous game but Seraphina knew she couldn’t back down now. Not when there was so much at stake.

She wasn’t the type to sit idly by, to cower in fear of a pack that hated her. But the deeper she dug into the mystery of the curse, the more she realized just how dangerous this game really was.

And yet, despite everything, she found herself thinking about Dorian more than she should. The way his eyes burned when he looked at her, the way he’d held her wrist so tightly, as if he could break her with just a touch. There was something raw and dangerous about him, something that called to the darkness within her.

But that didn’t matter. What mattered was survival. What mattered was getting to the bottom of this curse, and the twisted fate that had bound her to him.

She wouldn’t let herself be distracted. Not by him. Not by the tension between them that seemed to crackle with every passing moment.

But deep down, she couldn’t help wondering just how long she could keep fighting it.