“Draven!” I cried, desperate. “Weren’t you the one who swore to shield me? Look at me—look at my hands!”
But no one listened. Not the enforcers. Not him.
The only reply was the echoing thud of an iron cell door slamming shut.
Shadow swallowed me whole.
The burn on my palm mingled with the freezing bite of the cold cavern—heat and ice tearing at me in cruel waves.
As I shivered, memories clawed back through the dark.
cycles ago, in the outer farmlands of Silverhaze Territory, Draven’s drunken sire had nearly beaten him to death.
I could still see the terror in Draven’s young wolf-eyes.
Without thinking, I stepped between them. The strike meant for him crashed across my cheek, stars exploding in my vision.
Something inside Draven snapped. He went feral—cornered, wild—lashing out at the Alpha he feared. When the older wolf staggered, Draven grabbed my hand and dragged me into the storm.
We hid in my small den while the rain hammered the roof. I trembled as I held his hand; he clutched mine just as tightly, eyes fierce yet soft.
“Lunessa,” he whispered, “I’ll never let fear touch you again.”
Back then, he had been my refuge.
Now, he was the nightmare standing on the other side of the door.