Chapter Four

SELENE

Suffocating.

Their voices crashed over me like relentless waves, drowning me in an ocean of accusations and disbelief. Too many. Too close. Their words clawed at my skin, their hands tugged at my hair, my arms, my clothes—searching, prying, demanding answers I didn’t have.

"Who are you?"

"Why would our Lord choose you?"

"A nobody from Royal City? It’s absurd!"

I couldn’t move. Their presence coiled around me like a cage, tightening with every whispered insult, every scoff, every questioning glare.

"Your scent is so faint. Are you even a wolf?"

"I can barely sense your bloodline—pathetic!"

"No power, no strength… your wolf must be asleep."

My breath came in shallow gasps. Their words cut deeper than I expected, slicing open wounds I thought had long since scarred over. It was the same as before, the same mockery. Back in Royal City, I had learned to endure the sneers, the pitying glances, the dismissals. I had steeled myself against the weight of being less in a world where only strength mattered.

But here, I was drowning all over again.

"There’s no way our Lord truly wants you."

"Did you deceive him? Trick him? What did you do?"

"How did you even meet him?"

I wanted to scream. To tell them that I didn’t know. That I was just as lost, just as confused, just as desperate for answers as they were. Of all the powerful Lunars, why had he—the strongest of them all—chosen me? Forced this fate upon me? Marked me, bound me, claimed me?

Apart from him—who, if I’m being honest, I thought was nothing more than a myth—I had only heard whispered stories about Nightbane. About the ruthless, lawless wolves that roamed these lands, where the strong devoured the weak, where only the merciless survived. I had heard of their brutality.

“I asked you to tend to her, not interrogate her,” Draven’s voice sliced through the room like a blade, sharp and commanding. The air itself seemed to still as he entered, his presence swallowing all else. He had changed into a long black T-shirt and dark jeans, the simplicity doing nothing to soften the raw dominance he exuded.

“My Lord!” The gathered wolves bowed their heads in unison, quickly stepping away from my bed.

“You are all excused,” he ordered, his voice edged with finality. No one dared defy him.

As they turned to leave, one of them hesitated.

“Olivia,” Draven called out.

She froze mid-step before turning back. Unlike the others, she had an elegance that didn’t belong in a place like this. With fair skin and piercing blue eyes, she carried herself with a grace that seemed almost… noble. It was strange. I hadn’t thought rogue wolves could possess such refinement.

“You asked for me, Lord?” she inquired, lowering her head slightly in submission.

Draven sighed, his gaze cold but calculating. “She should be waking soon. Be there.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

With that, she turned and exited, leaving me alone with him.

And then his gaze landed on me.

I felt it instantly—a deep, possessive weight settling over me like chains I couldn’t break. The moment he started walking toward me, I sprang out of bed, my breath coming in ragged pants.

"What do you want from me?" My voice trembled despite my best efforts to sound strong. "I am not worthy to be your mate, and I don’t want to be your mate!"

I took a step back. Then another. The distance between us felt like a fragile barrier, one I knew he could break at any moment. "Just let me go!"

Draven chuckled. A deep, dark sound that slithered into my bones and curled around my ribs like a noose.

Before I could blink, he moved—swift and effortless, closing the gap in an instant. A predator cornering his prey.

"Sorry, little wolf," he murmured, amusement lacing his tone, "but it’s not that easy. My mark is already settled on your heart."

Then, before I could even think of running, he had me caged. His hands locked around my wrists, his grip firm yet maddeningly gentle, and with a mere tug, he forced me to face him. His golden eyes burned into mine, the heat behind them suffocating, inescapable.

"We are one now, little wolf. It’s time you submit."

A violent shudder rippled through me.

"I will never submit to you!" I spat. "I am not your mate, and I will never be your mate!"

Then—darkness.

Not the kind that came from the absence of light. No, this was something else. It crawled, it consumed, it swallowed me whole. A void. A black abyss that carried his scent, his power, his essence.

A suffocating fear clawed at my chest, and my wolf—panicked, enraged—howled inside me, struggling to break free, to shift, to fight.

But then...

He touched her.

Not roughly. Not in the way an Alpha would force submission. No, he patted her—slowly, gently. A touch that was both soothing and suffocating, a possession disguised as comfort.

A dark smile stretched across Draven’s lips.

"You are both mine, little wolf." His fingers traced the pulse along my throat, his touch featherlight, possessive. "Body and soul. You belong to me."

Every fiber in my body screamed danger.

I had to get away.

Now.

But his hands traveled lower, trailing over my skin as if mapping every inch that was now his to claim. The way his fingers lingered, the way his golden gaze darkened—it sent a violent tremor through me.

He was enjoying this.

Enjoying my fear. Enjoying my defiance. Enjoying the chase.

Panic surged through my veins, my breath ragged as I jerked back with all the strength I had.

I took a slow step backward, my breath coming out in uneven gasps as I opened the window behind me. The cold night air rushed in, carrying the distant scent of pine and damp earth. My heart pounded at the sight of the sheer drop below—too high, impossible to survive.

"Sorry, but I think you might have chosen the wrong person," I exhaled, forcing my voice to stay steady. My fingers clenched the window frame as if it could somehow anchor me in this madness.

Draven cocked his head, golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Wrong person? How so?"

A hollow chuckle escaped my lips, but it sounded more like a shattered whisper. "I'm a nobody. I have no power, no strength. I’m not fit to be your mate."

His gaze sharpened, a slow smirk curling his lips. He stepped closer, deliberate, like a predator playing with its prey. "A defect?" he murmured. "Is that what you mean?" He let the words sink in before his smirk deepened. "Or… is that what he called you?"

I froze.

"The way you were gazing at him," he continued, voice like silk laced with poison. "Heartbroken. Shamed. Disappointed." His tongue clicked. "Tell me, what did he promise you? A future? Love? A family?" He let out a low, mocking chuckle. "It must be excruciating to be rejected."

His words sliced into me like razor-sharp claws, each syllable tearing through wounds I had tried so hard to ignore. My breath hitched as Kaith’s face flashed in my mind, his voice, his betrayal—I never wanted you. You were just a burden.

So… he had been watching?

My throat tightened, words threatening to choke me. "Look," I croaked, forcing myself to meet his gaze despite the storm raging inside me. "Just because you forced me to be your mate doesn’t give you the right to say those things!"

Draven scoffed, his smirk unwavering as he closed the distance between us. My pulse quickened, but this time, I didn’t retreat. My feet stayed rooted, my body refusing to cower.

His hand moved slowly, reaching for my face. I should have flinched. I should have pulled away. But the way his fingers brushed my skin—so impossibly gentle—sent an unfamiliar shiver through me. My breath stuttered, and to my horror, I realized something wet was sliding down my cheek.

Tears.

His thumb grazed them away, his touch lingering as he tilted my chin upward. His gaze wasn’t just piercing—it burned through me, dark, unreadable, yet strangely warm.

"Get him off your mind," he commanded, voice low, heavy. "That bastard doesn’t deserve you."

I trembled, my body betraying me in ways I didn’t understand.

"You think you’re a defect?" His grip tightened slightly, just enough to make me feel the heat of his palm. "Not to me, little wolf."

His other hand moved, wrapping around my waist, pulling me in as if daring me to listen, to believe.

"You are a rare gem," he murmured, his breath brushing against my cheek, "and if given a million chances, it will always be you. I will always choose you."

My heart lurched, my breath faltering.

No, no, no.

For a fleeting moment, something in me wanted to believe him. The way he said it—so raw, so certain—it was almost… beautiful.

No fucking way.

A sharp laugh tore from my throat, hollow and bitter. I stepped back, my hand shooting up as if to push the words away. "Man," I scoffed, shaking my head. "Has anyone ever told you you’re really good with words?" I pointed at him, retreating further. "For a second, you almost had me."

Draven didn’t move, watching me with something dangerously close to amusement.

"But sorry," I continued, shaking my head, "I’m not falling for that. I am not your mate. And no matter what it takes, I will escape this nightmare. I will run as far away from you as I can!" I declared, my voice firm despite the tremor in my chest.

Silence.

Then, a deep, dark chuckle rumbled from him—low, mocking, and drenched in something terrifying.

"Please," he drawled, crossing his arms as he leaned lazily against the door. "Be my guest, little wolf."

His golden eyes darkened, the color shifting—deepening into something richer, darker. Almost black.

"Run," he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. "Try as much as you want." His lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "No matter where you go… no matter how well you try to hide…"

He took a single step forward, and the room felt smaller.

"The moment you breathe…" His voice was a whisper, yet it reverberated through my bones. "I will know."

Cold terror wrapped around my spine.

"And I will take you back."

His smirk faded, replaced by something darker—absolute, inevitable. His aura crackled, the air thickening with an invisible force that pressed against my skin.

"If I were you, I would stop any stupid idea forming in that little mind of yours." His voice was silk over steel, smooth yet unyielding. "Because Nightbane is my throne. Here, I am absolute."

A shadow flickered behind him, but it wasn’t from the candlelight.

"You can run to the ends of the earth," he continued, his voice slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every word. "You can beg, you can fight, you can scream."

The shadows stretched, curling around his frame like living things.

"But I will always be there."

A shudder rippled through me.

"Watching."

The shadows pulsed.

"Waiting."

I took a step back, but there was nowhere to go.

"Until the day you finally accept your fate." His voice dipped lower, an intimate promise laced with something dark, something final.

"You belong to me, little wolf."

A breath. A heartbeat.

"You have always belonged to me."