Chapter 4

Elara's POV 

The path to Dorian’s cabin was quiet, except for the sounds of my hurried footsteps crunching against the gravel. My heart still hadn’t stopped racing since Andrew had made his announcement in front of everyone. Part of me was nervous, still wondering why he’d choose me when the rest of the pack would gladly turn a blind eye if I disappeared. But another part of me—one I wasn’t ready to admit to—felt a sliver of excitement, hope even, at this sudden twist in my fate.

I kept walking, trying to make sense of it all. What did Andrew really want with me? It couldn’t be simple kindness; no Alpha would risk his reputation for that. But for now, that mystery was buried under the urgency to get to his cabin and see what came next. Each step brought me closer, until finally, I could see it—a small, dark cabin nestled away from the rest of the pack’s lodges.

As I approached, the faint sound of voices drifted from inside, one of them unmistakably Andrew’s, his tone low and steady. I paused at the door, my hand raised to knock, when I caught his words.

“... I’ll be taking her with me. The pack here doesn’t want her, so they won’t put up any resistance,” he said, his voice calm but with a hint of impatience. “No, that’s exactly why I’m bringing her to Salientmoon. People already believe she’s cursed; that will make it easier to keep them in line.”

My breath hitched, a chill sweeping down my spine. Cursed. I’d heard that word thrown around about me too many times, always in hushed whispers and behind my back. But hearing it here, from Andrew’s mouth—it hurt, more than I’d expected.

There was a long pause, and then his voice came through again, more decisive, colder. “Yes, that’s the plan. She’s useful. People fear her, and fear can be a powerful tool. She’s perfect for my plans.”

The words felt like a punch to my gut, leaving me reeling. So this was what he wanted—someone to use as a pawn, as a tool in whatever political scheme he was cooking up back in Salientmoon. My fists clenched at my sides, anger mingling with the sting of betrayal. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have thought, even for a second, that he saw me as something more than a means to an end?

I forced myself to take a slow breath, the cold air filling my lungs. There was no way I could walk into that cabin now, not after what I’d just heard. My thoughts scattered, each one darker than the last. I had no one here who would stand up for me. And apparently, the one person who’d offered me a way out only saw me as a tool to be exploited.

The floor creaked inside the cabin, followed by the unmistakable sound of Andrew’s footsteps approaching the door. Panic spiked through me, and I backed away, my mind racing. I couldn’t face him now. I didn’t even want him to know I’d overheard.

I turned on my heel, barely able to keep myself from breaking into a run. The path was empty, and I took advantage of it, pushing forward as fast as I could, needing to put as much distance as possible between myself and that cabin.

I didn’t know where I was going or what I’d do, but one thing was clear: I couldn’t stay here. And definitely not with him. Not after everything I've heard.

******* 

I ran without thinking, my pulse thundering louder than my footsteps as I darted through the moonlit woods. The further I got from Dorian’s cabin, the more the anger dissolved, replaced by something that felt a lot like despair. His words played over and over in my mind— fear can be a powerful tool... she’s perfect for my plans.

I hadn't even realized where my feet were carrying me until the trees started to thin, revealing the outskirt of Duskmire Grove. A strange chill swept over me, but I couldn't stop now. I knew this grove was infamous for the traps and stories of restless spirits, yet the urge to disappear was stronger than any fear I had of this haunted place. It was the one part of the territory no one dared enter, and right now, I craved the quiet.

I couldn't stop now. I knew this grove.

The thick, twisted trees loomed in the darkness, their sharp branches clawing at the sky. Shadows clung to every corner, shrouding the grove in an eerie quiet. I kept running, my feet pounding the earth until a sharp, brutal pain tore through my leg.

I stumbled forward, my scream swallowed by the dense woods.

Looking down, I saw the wicked iron jaws of a trap clamped around my leg, its teeth biting deep into my skin. Blood pooled around the wound, and a wave of nausea hit me as I sank to the ground. My hands shook as I tried to pry it open, the cold metal refusing to budge no matter how desperately I pulled.

“Come on, Elara,” I whispered to myself, trying to steady my breathing. I grit my teeth, straining with every bit of strength I had left, but the pain was overwhelming, leaving me lightheaded and weak. My vision blurred as I leaned back, feeling utterly helpless.

In the eerie silence, something shifted. A shadow appeared from the trees, dark and formless, watching me with an unsettling stillness. I froze, my heart slamming against my chest as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.

The figure stepped closer, becoming clearer—a tall, lean man, covered in darkness, his eyes piercing even in the shadows.

“Lost, are we?” His voice was smooth and scary, yet strangely familiar, like a dull memory from a half-forgotten dream.

I swallowed, fear seizing my throat as I struggled to find words. “Who...who are you?”

He tilted his head, a faint, almost amused smile playing on his lips.

“Names are for the living, Elara.” His gaze dropped to my trapped leg, and his expression turned thoughtful. “But if you’re looking for a way out, I can help you.”

I blinked, trying to process his words. “You...you know my name?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pointed toward the trap, his voice low and commanding. “Press the lock mechanism on the left side.”

I hesitated, studying his face, but something in his eyes held a strange kind of assurance. Desperation overcame caution as I fumbled with the trap, pressing where he instructed. To my shock, it clicked open, releasing my leg from its brutal grip.

I gasped in relief, cradling my bleeding leg as I looked up at him. "Thank you...thank you,” I stammered, the pain momentarily overshadowed by gratitude.

The shadowed man knelt beside me, his gaze unreadable. “Interesting place to come for someone running away,” he murmured, his voice almost gentle. “Or are you just that desperate to be alone?”

I felt a lump form in my throat, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “They don’t want me. They think I’m cursed, that I’m a tool, something to be used.” My voice broke, and I felt tears sting my eyes as I looked away, embarrassed.

“Cursed.” He echoed the word thoughtfully, like he was turning it over in his mind. “Interesting. You know, curses can be broken...if you're willing to pay the price.”

I looked back at him, the hope blooming in my chest controlled by caution. “What...what kind of price?”

He leaned in, his face inches from mine, and for the first time, I saw his eyes clearly—dark and intense, filled with something ancient and

powerful. “Your curse can be lifted, Elara. But it will cost you something precious.”

I swallowed, my pulse racing under his gaze. “What...what do I have to do?”

He gave a slow, measured smile, his voice dropping to a whisper. “To free yourself, you must sever the chain that binds you to this fate. To break the curse, you must kill the one who would bind you—the Alpha Andrew Galway.”

I felt the blood drain from my face as his words settled over me, chilling me to the bone. Kill Andrew? The Alpha who'd claimed me, who was supposed to be my mate? The one who'd pulled me out of my misery only hours ago, for his own reasons perhaps, but still...

“You...you can’t be serious.” My voice came out a mere whisper, barely audible above the quiet of the grove.

“Deadly serious,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “A life for a life. Free yourself from his control, and you will free yourself from your curse.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. I didn’t know what I’d expected—a price of blood, maybe, or a pact. But murder?