HIS GENTLE CLAIM

CHAPTER THREE - ELARA'S POV

I don't sleep.

By two in the morning I stop trying.

I sit on the windowsill with my knees pulled to my chest and watch the courtyard below. Two Ironwood warriors at the gate. Still. Straight. Not talking. Not shifting. Just standing like they were carved into that spot and have no intention of moving until someone tells them to.

Everything about Ironwood feels like that.

Precise. Intentional. Like nothing happens by accident.

I press my forehead against the cool glass and close my eyes

Brendan's voice wakes me at seven.

Not calling me. He never calls me. Just his voice carrying through the wall from his office next door the one I share a thin partition with because nobody thought about that when they put me in the east wing storage room.

"The contract is ready."

A pause.

"She won't be a problem."

Another pause. Longer.

"I said she won't be a problem."

I sit up slowly on the windowsill where I fell asleep.

My neck aches.

My chest aches worse.

Dana finds me in the garden at eight with wild eyes and both hands gripping my arm before I can say good morning.

"They're adding you to the contract."

The lily stems blur in my hands.

"What?"

"The treaty." She lowers her voice even though we're alone. "Brendan is offering you as a pack liaison to Ironwood. It's in the agreement. You'd go with them when they leave."

I set the flowers down carefully.

"That's not—" I stop. Start again. "He can't do that."

"He already did."

The garden goes very quiet.

A bird lands on the wall to my left and tilts its head at me like it's waiting to see what I'll do next.

I don't know what I'll do next.

"Elara." Dana's grip tightens on my arm. "Say something."

"When do they leave?"

"Tomorrow morning."

I look down at the broken lily stems at my feet.

Three years of making myself invisible in my own home and it turns out that was never going to be enough.

Brendan found a way to make me disappear completely.

The meeting is at ten.

I'm not invited but the door to Brendan's office doesn't close all the way when there are more than six people in it and I've known that since I was twelve years old.

I stand in the corridor with my back flat against the wall and my arms crossed and I listen.

Brendan's voice. His Beta. Two voices I don't recognize Ironwood men.

And then his.

Low. Unhurried. Taking up all the space in the room without trying.

"Walk me through her situation."

Brendan clears his throat. "She's been a pack liaison before. She knows our customs and she's—"

"That's not what I asked."

Silence.

"Her wolf." Ryker's voice again. Quieter now. Precise like a blade. "Why is it bound?"

My back goes rigid against the wall.

"An accident." Brendan's voice is careful. "Years ago. She chose to bind it herself. She's stable. Manageable."

Manageable.

I close my eyes.

That's what I am. That's what three years of making myself small has turned me into. A word like manageable said in a room where my future is being decided without me.

"Does she know about the contract?"

"She'll be informed—"

"Does she know."

Not a question. A wall.

Brendan pauses one second too long.

"No."

Footsteps.

The door swings open before I can move and I'm standing there in the corridor three feet from Ryker with nowhere to go and no version of this that doesn't look exactly like what it is.

He looks at me.

I look at him.

His expression doesn't change.

"How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough."

Something moves in his eyes. Not anger. Not embarrassment. Something quieter than both.

He steps back and opens the door wider.

"Then come in."

I look past him at Brendan whose face has gone the particular shade of controlled fury that means I'll hear about this later.

Then I look back at Ryker.

I walk through the door.

Brendan starts talking the moment I sit down.

"This is irregular—"

"She has a right to hear the terms." Ryker doesn't look at Brendan. He's looking at me. "Since the terms involve her."

He slides a single sheet of paper across the table.

I look at it without touching it.

My name. Elara Voss. Printed in clean black ink in the middle of a formal treaty document like I'm an asset being transferred.

"You don't have to sign anything today." His voice is different now. Lower. Like he's talking only to me even though there are five other people in the room. "Read it first."

I look up at him.

"Why are you telling me that?"

"Because nobody else was going to."

The room is very still.

I drop my eyes back to the paper.

Pick it up.

Start reading.