*** Draven’s POVThe room had grown quiet, the earlier tension slowly replaced by a strange, tentative calm. Miria was seated across from me, her hands resting loosely in her lap. Her expression was thoughtful, her lips slightly parted as if debating whether to speak. I could feel the shift in her mood—less guarded but not entirely at ease.“Thank you for tonight,” she said, her voice soft, almost hesitant.“You’re calling it a night already?” I asked, allowing a faint smile to touch my lips. “Am I such bad company?”Her lips twitched, the hint of a smile forming before she tilted her head. “You’re not the worst company,” she said lightly. “Though I seem to recall you admitting you haven’t been the best either.”I chuckled slowly, leaning back slightly. “Fair enough. What would you consider good company, then?”She hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of her chair. “Silence,” she said finally. “Silence is good company. It doesn’t judge, or take, or... hurt.”The weight of her words
*** Ariana’s POVI hated that I might not hate him as much as I thought I did—or should. It was a startling realization, one I wasn’t ready to explore. Feeling something, anything, for anyone—let alone Draven—wasn’t part of my plan. Until last night, I’d been able to dismiss my fluttering thoughts as fleeting, chalking them up to loneliness or primal biology. Every she-wolf is drawn to an Alpha male, right? It’s just… science.But damn him for having layers. Layers that cracked through my resolve.And last night? Last night made everything harder to ignore.I sighed deeply, the guilt of my situation swirling like an unshakable storm cloud. Miria… she should still be alive, thriving, po
*** Ariana’s POVThe storm had rolled in overnight, a deep, growling thing that rattled the windows and left the world drenched in a misty gray. I stood at the window of my room, the glass cold under my palm, watching the rain streak down in erratic rivulets.Training was canceled—not surprising given the weather—leaving me with an unusual stretch of unstructured time.Sighing, I grabbed my book from the nightstand, slipping the delicate pressed-flower bookmark between the pages. The sight of it made me pause. Draven’s work. The gesture had caught me off guard for sure, softening edges I kept so sharp.After pulling on a cozy sweater and jeans, I headed to the mess hall. Breakfast was in full swing, the low murmur of conversations mingling with the clink of cutlery. I slipped into a quiet corner, loading my plate with scrambled eggs and toast before settling down with my book.The mess hall was warm and completely empty—I was perfectly content to enjoy my breakfast in solitude. The wor
*** Ariana’s POV“Shit!” The expletive left my lips before I could stop it, my balance teetering as a solid force barreled into me from the side. Bracing for the inevitable meeting with the floor, I barely processed the warm hands—plural—that steadied me mid-fall.“Easy there,” a smooth voice murmured from behind me.Green eyes filled my vision, Jasper’s unnaturally vivid gaze holding mine with an intensity that made me forget my name for a moment. I was acutely aware of another body pressed behind me, strong hands gripping my shoulders and waist.“Careful,” Jason said softly, his breath brushing against my ear. “We’ve got you.”The moment felt like something ripped straight from a romance novel—the dark hallway, the storm still pattering faintly against the windows, and the twins effortlessly supporting me. Jasper’s eyes remained locked on mine, his expression a mix of amusement and something heavier, more deliberate.Then a low growl rumbled down the hall, shattering the moment.“Wha
***Ariana's POVThe morning light streamed through the thin curtains, and I blinked against it, my thoughts already swirling with the memory of last night. Draven’s voice still lingered in my ears, low and thoughtful as he spoke of the stories his father used to read to him. I could see the firelight dancing in his eyes, the quiet vulnerability in his expression as he peeled back another layer of himself.I’d been so careful not to let my guard down around him, hadn’t I? Yet, somehow, I kept letting myself get pulled back in. Last night felt different. More intimate. More… real.I ran my fingers over the blanket covering me, my chest tightening at the thought. What was happening to me?Rolling out of bed, I tried to shake the lingering emotions clinging to me
*** Ariana’s POVThe morning sun peeked out from behind the clouds, casting a golden glow over the training grounds. I adjusted my jacket nervously as Beta Simon led me toward the open area where my new trainer, Master Oren, waited. My guards flanked me, Mika on one side, Michael and Martin trailing slightly behind, their quiet strength reassuring.“Master Oren is one of the best combat trainers in the region,” Simon explained, glancing back at me. “And, apparently, he was eager to take on the challenge of working with you.”I snorted playfully. “Challenge? Thanks for the confidence, Simon.”Simon grinned but didn’t answer, stopping abruptly as we reached the center of the grounds.Master Oren was not what I expected. I’d imagined someone grizzled, maybe in his forties or fifties, with scars and a permanent scowl. Instead, a man who couldn’t be older than his mid-twenties stood waiting for us, his sandy blond hair tousled in a way that looked too effortless to be accidental. He was lea
*** Ariana’s POV“Mika, what was that about?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended as we walked back toward the packhouse.“What was that about?” Mika replied evenly, his tone giving nothing away.“You stepped up and shut Jasper down,” I pressed, crossing my arms as I strode beside him.Mika glanced sideways at me but kept walking. “Alpha Jasper,” he corrected, stressing the title, “has become too familiar, just like you.”I blinked, caught off guard. “Lots of people are familiar with me here.”“I have my instructions,” Mika said flatly.Ah, of course. “Should I guess where those came from?” I shot back, a hint of sarcasm in my voice.Mika didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to glare at me, the intensity of his gaze forcing me to take a step back. The sudden shift in his demeanor left me feeling off-balance, and I fell silent for the rest of the walk.By the time we reached the packhouse, I was relieved to see Jax, Jake, and Jorge waiting for their rotation. The handoff between shif
*** Draven’s POVThe meeting with Jasper and Jason had been mercifully brief. I’d laid out the details with the precision of a man eager to be elsewhere. Their Luna candidate, Eleanor McTavish, was arriving tonight from Scotland. She was the daughter of a rare twin-alpha bond herself, familiar with the nuances of such a dynamic. They were to pick her up from the airport and ensure she felt welcome, and dinner would serve as an introduction for everyone involved.The twins had listened attentively, but Kronos, my wolf, snarled his displeasure every time they shifted their weight or adjusted their posture. I knew why. The tension in the air was palpable—an unspoken warning from the wolf in me to stay away from what was mine.“Mine!” Kronos growled, his voice echoing in my mind.I forced him back, reminding myself for the hundredth time that Miria couldn’t feel the mate bond. She had no wolf to sense it, and that truth simultaneously relieved and enraged me. It gave me time to protect her
*** Ariana's POVThe corridor outside Ariana’s room felt eerily silent as Cirian stopped at her door. For once, his expression was less predatory and more... calculated. His words during lunch still lingered in her mind, sharp and bitter as the wine she hadn’t touched. He tilted his head slightly, watching her as if trying to decipher her thoughts.“I trust you found the meal to your liking?” he asked smoothly, his tone deceptively casual.Ariana crossed her arms, leaning lightly against the doorframe. “It’s strange,” she said, forcing calm into her voice, “to have such a fine meal in a place that’s so drenched in blood.”Cirian smirked, unbothered. “Ah, but doesn’t blood fertilize the richest soil? Makes everything... thrive.” He stepped back, gesturing toward the door with a flourish. “Rest, my dear. Tonight promises to be enlightening.”Without waiting for her response, he turned and strode down the hall, leaving Ariana staring after him. Enlightening, he’d said. Everything with hi
*** Draven’s POVMiria.The scent of antiseptic stings my nose first, followed by the sterile coldness of the room. The steady beeping of machines grates against my senses. My body feels heavy, my limbs slow to respond, but the fire in my chest is all too real.Miria.Kronos stirs inside me, a restless, prowling presence. His growl echoes in my mind, a single word cutting through the haze.Miria.I lurch upward, my vision blurring as the room spins. The last thing I remember is the forest—the gunshot, her scream, the way the light caught in her eyes.Mate.
*** Ariana’s POVThe hospital café feels incomplete, much like everything else around here. Half the walls are unpainted drywall, their seams taped but not yet sanded. A few tables are scattered around the space, mismatched chairs filling in the gaps. Exposed beams stretch across the ceiling, reminding me of how exposed I feel sitting across from Cirian. Cirian sits across from me at one of the few functional tables, his coffee steaming in his hands. The sharp scent of fresh paint and sawdust hangs faintly in the air, almost masking the herbal notes of my tea.A waiter sets down a small plate of biscuits between us, offering a polite nod before retreating to the far side of the café. We’re mostly alone here, the quiet punctuated only by the occasional sound of construction—hammering, a power drill whining, muffled voices echoing down the halls.The setting is intimate, leaving me nowhere to hide. I lift my tea to my lips, the heat brushing my face, and take a slow sip, buying myself
*** Ariana’s POV…extermination of rogues.A feeling of deja vú settles over me.I can hear the same phrase being repeated in my head but it’s in my father’s voice.I have the sensation of being younger, the days when I would sit on his lap while he worked in the office.Bad actors.Was my father a bad actor?Cirian moves us along, showing me more—the beginnings of a school, a workshop bustling with activity, a communal space where wolves share food and laughter.“This isn’t just a home for rogues,” he says, gesturing to the buildings. “It’s a chance for
*** Ariana’s POVStepping out of the packhouse behind Cirian, I’m greeted by a crisp breeze that carries the sharp scent of pine. We must be farther north than Draven’s pack.Cirian glances back, his steps slowing. “Shall we?” he asks, extending a hand.I don’t take it, but I follow him. That’s answer enough.Despite my best intention to stay calm and civil, the cold bite in the air feels like an apt comparison to my mood.Waking up to Cirian sitting at the end of my bed and chit-chatting at me through the bathroom door while I was changing still has me off-kilter.Thank the Goddess I had swapped out the nightclothes Elara had chosen for me before going to bed.The ground crunches softly beneath our boots as we walk, the wide path leading deeper into the settlement. Ahead, buildings come into view—rows of them, neat but unpolished. Their wooden frames look sturdy, their construction deliberate. Wolves move between them, talking in quiet tones, some carrying supplies, others watching
*** Ariana’s POVElara’s words cling to the air, heavy and wrong, like the echo of a song sung off-key.“I can’t wait to see him again,” she says, her voice soft and distant. The smile on her lips is as fragile as the flame flickering in the hearth, but her eyes… her eyes are the real betrayal. There’s nothing behind them but static.I shift my weight, the creak of the wooden floor grounding me against the surreal tilt of the moment. “When was the last time you talked to James?” I ask, keeping my tone light, almost casual.Elara’s hands, busy smoothing invisible wrinkles from her dress, falter. She blinks, her expression flickering with something—confusion? Uncertainty? “Right before he left,” she says after a pause, the vagueness in her voice like a half-formed thought.The answer settles into my chest like ice water. There’s no time stamp on that comment, nothing specific to anchor it. I know James has been dead for over a month.“And Cirian,” I say slowly, tilting my head as if the
*** Ariana’s POVThe door clicks shut behind me, and I turn automatically, scanning for a lock. My fingers skim the edges of the wood, searching the smooth surface in vain. Nothing. Not even a latch to bar the door from the inside.I exhale in irritation, stepping back to take in the room, my gaze darting from the chest against the far wall to the chair near the fire. Both seem flimsy options to block the door, but I’m already calculating how much noise they’d make if someone tried to come in uninvited.At least I’d have a warning.Pivoting quickly, my breath catches—no, halts altogether. There’s someone sitting on the edge of the bed.“Elara?” I blurt, my voice sharp as I take a reflexive step back. “What the hell?”The woman perched before me doesn’t flinch, her head tilting slightly as if I were the intruder.“Miss Ariana,” she says softly, her lips curling into a small, fragile smile. It’s disarming, but only because it doesn’t erase the dark circles under her eyes or the hollows i
*** Ariana’s POVCirian leans back in his chair, fingers tracing the rim of his wine glass. The soft candlelight flickers across his face, sharpening the angles of his jawline and casting shadows under his eyes.“You know,” he says, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “the first time I saw you, I thought you were going to kill a man.”I blink at him, startled by the statement. My fork hovers over the plate as I meet his gaze. “What?”His smile lingers for a moment, but there’s something wistful in his expression. “It was outside your pack’s border. I’d been tracking a rogue, hoping to bring him into my fold, but I lost him in the woods.”The fi
*** Ariana’s POVThe candlelight flickers softly across the table, its warm glow catching on the edges of the dark wood. The food smells incredible—roasted meat, buttery vegetables, and a faint hint of herbs I can’t place—but I can’t bring myself to eat.Cirian seems perfectly at ease, enjoying his stake like it’s Sunday dinner with the family. His glass of wine sits untouched beside him, though he glances at it occasionally as if debating whether to take a sip.“You’ve changed,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence.I glance up sharply, my fork still hovering over my plate. “Have I?”He smiles faintly, setting his knife down. “Yes. You carry yourself differently now—more confident. More… focused.”The compliment feels like a trap, and I carefully lower my fork back to the plate. “Life has a way of doing that to people.”