CHAPTER 3
837 Words
The first thing Emilia felt was warmth. Not the cold floor of her room or the scratchy blanket she knew too well.
She blinked, then flinched as a sharp ache lanced through her ribs. A groan escaped her lips.
‘Where was she?’ The last thing she remembered was blood, pain and a massive black wolf.
A knock at the door pulled her from the spiral. Before she could respond, a woman stepped in. Elegant, poised.
“Oh, good. You’re awake,” she said, her tone laced with warmth.
Emilia’s throat felt dry. “Where… am I?”
“You’ve been unconscious for two days,” the woman replied, approaching her bedside. “You were found near our borders. Barely breathing. My son brought you in.”
Emilia froze. ‘Her son?’
The door creaked again and a man walked in like a storm. He didn’t speak, he stood there, watching her with his piercing, storm-grey eyes.
Emilia had heard tales of Alpha Draven. The kind of man enemies feared in silence. But no one mentioned how striking he was.
Black slacks, grey shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, forearms toned with muscle and tattoos. His presence filled the room.
Then came the scent. ‘Gods.’ Like smoke, rain, pine, masculine, but dangerous.
Her chest tightened. Her wolf, though faint, stirred again.
“Who are you?” His voice was smooth, deep, and cold.
Emilia parted her lips, panic rising. If she told the truth, they'd return her to the Ashbourne pack. Back to shame and pain.
“I… I don’t remember,” she whispered.
Draven’s eyes narrowed. “Convenient.”
“Draven,” the woman warned.
“She could be a spy,” he muttered.
“She’s injured. And under this roof, she’s under protection.”
His gaze locked on Emilia again, sharper now. “Name?”
Her lips parted before she could think. “Emira.” The name felt strange, yet familiar.
Draven’s sharp gaze flickered. His expression was unreadable as he studied her. Then, without a word, he turned and walked out.
Emilia released a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
The woman beside her stepped forward, calm and graceful.
“He is Alpha Draven of the Umbra Claw pack,” she said. “I’m Alira. The queen mother.”
Alira gave her a lingering look that felt like both a warning and a promise before turning to follow her son.
Days passed. Every movement sent pain through Emilia’s body. Her wounds were healing, but without her wolf, it was agonizingly slow.
But the silence inside her was deafening. Her wolf was gone again.
But that wild, earthy, masculine scent drifted under her door at night and made her heart beat harder. But she didn’t understand why it made her feel safer.
~~~~~
Draven stood on the high balcony, watching the moonlight shine across the lake.
He hadn’t meant to be there that night. He never strayed that far from his territory, except to clear his head or spill blood when the urge came.
But then he’d heard her. A girl crying in the woods. Alone and fragile.
The rogues had appeared. And something inside him snapped. It wasn’t bloodlust. It felt like control and maybe possession.
He didn’t understand it. Only when he saw her bleeding on the ground, did he move without thinking.
He’d saved her. And he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her scent, her voice, her eyes when she struggled to look at him.
He had shifted. Chased off the rogues. For the first time in years, he hadn’t blacked out. No bloodlust or memory loss.
He remembered standing over her broken body, his instincts sharp and clear. Something in her had anchored him.
“Who is she?” He muttered, questioning no one in particular.
When Emilia could finally walk on her own, she was summoned to the Beta’s office.
Beta Jason, handed her a form. “All newcomers must register,” he said. “I heard you’ll be staying at the hospital.”
Alira had asked where Emilia would prefer to recover, and she chose the hospital, because she had studied medicine. It gave her a purpose.
She signed the name Emira with trembling hands. A lie. But a necessary one.
As she stepped out of the office, she nearly collided with someone. The cold scent hit her first. Then the storm-grey, piercing eyes that was impossible to forget.
Her heart stopped. “I… I didn’t get to say thank you. For saving me.”
His gaze was unreadable. “Don’t thank me.”
Still, she tried. “But you…”
He stepped closer. “If you want to survive here,” he said, his voice was low and hard.
“Stay away from me. Stay away from this wing. And don’t ask questions.” Then he was gone.
Emilia's heart hammered against her ribs as she stood frozen in the hallway.
‘Why did it sting?’ She asked, unsure of why she felt that way.
- Writer
