Episode 8: Secrets Unleashed
1082 Words
Darkness retreated slowly, like a tide. The first thing Aelin registered was the softness of sheets against her skin and the faint scent of antiseptic. Her head throbbed with a dull ache. When she tried to move, a gentle hand pressed her shoulder.
"Easy," a woman's voice murmured. "You took quite a tumble."
Aelin blinked her eyes open. She was in a bright room that wasn't her suite. Shelves lined the walls, filled with jars of herbs and neatly labeled vials. Sunlight poured through the windows. A woman with warm brown skin and wire-rimmed glasses stood over her, checking her pulse. Marcus lounged in a chair nearby, his boots muddy and worry etched between his brows.
"Where am I?" Aelin croaked. Her throat felt raw.
"The infirmary," the woman replied. "I'm Dr. Lydia. Pack doctor." She smiled reassuringly. "You've got a nasty bruise on your head and a few scrapes. No broken bones. You'll live."
Marcus let out a breath that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. "You scared the hell out of us," he said, leaning forward. "What part of 'don't go into the forest' sounded like 'please wander into danger' to you?"
Aelin swallowed. Memories flooded back—the wolves, the chase, the enormous black beast with golden eyes. "The wolves were going to attack me," she whispered. "And the big one... it saved me."
"You mean Damian," Marcus said, not unkindly. "Yeah. He does that."
Before she could ask what he meant, the door swung open. Damian stepped in, freshly showered but still wearing a clean shirt open at the collar. For once there was no suit jacket, no tie. His hair was damp. A thin white bandage wrapped around his forearm, a smear of blood at its edge. His gaze went straight to her, drinking her in as if to reassure himself she was real. Relief, anger, and something like guilt flickered across his features.
"Everyone out," he said softly. It wasn't a question. Marcus stood immediately, giving Aelin's shoulder a squeeze before slipping past Damian with a low bow. Dr. Lydia gathered her things and followed, closing the door behind her.
Silence fell. Damian crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, not quite touching her. Up close she could see tension in his jaw.
"You could have died," he said, voice low and rough. "You went into the woods alone after I told you not to."
"Because you wouldn't tell me what I needed to know," she shot back, anger matching his. "There are wolves in your backyard, Damian. One of them just turned into you. What am I supposed to think?"
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them. They were their usual human hazel now, but she knew what lay beneath. "You're supposed to think I'm trying to protect you," he said. "And that I should have told you sooner." He took a breath. "I'm a werewolf, Aelin. Stonehaven is the territory of my pack. I am their Alpha."
The words hung between them, shimmering with unreality. Aelin let out a stunned laugh that bordered on hysterical. "A werewolf," she repeated. "Like folklore? Full moons and silver bullets?"
"We don't turn because of the moon," he said, a wry twist to his mouth. "Silver does sting. And no, we don't eat humans." He sobered. "My family has been guarding these lands for centuries. We're born with the ability to shift. Most of the stories you've heard are exaggerated to scare children."
Aelin stared at him. The man she had married out of desperation, the CEO who commanded boardrooms and drove sleek cars, was also a creature out of myth. And he had pulled her into this world without warning. "Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered, hurt cresting over anger. "Why drag me into this without giving me a choice?"
He raked a hand through his damp hair. "Because telling you before the contract would have put you in danger you couldn't defend against," he said. "Rogues—wolves without packs—would kill to weaken me. The board already hates that I didn't choose a mate from within our kind. If they'd known you were human and ignorant of our ways, they would have tried to remove you. This way, you're under my protection."
"Rogues like the ones that chased me," she said, shuddering.
He nodded. "They've been testing the borders for weeks. You're my..." He hesitated. "Mate." The word was soft, almost reverent. "When I first saw you months ago, before the accident with your father, I knew. Our wolves called to each other. The bond doesn't care about contracts or species. It just is. I thought I could ignore it. I thought I could keep my world separate from yours. I was wrong."
Aelin's breath left her in a rush. Mate. The word she'd heard in the forest, the one that had thrummed inside her skull. "So this isn't just a business arrangement to you," she said slowly. "You brought me here because... because your wolf chose me?"
"Because we chose each other the moment we met," he said simply. "The contract was an excuse. A way to keep you close while I figured out how to tell you everything." His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach for her but didn't dare. "I won't lie again. If you want to leave, I'll let you go. But if you stay, you need to know what you are to me."
Her world tilted. She thought of her father coughing in their kitchen, the relief in his eyes when she told him she would save them. She thought of Damian in the forest, jaws stained with blood that was not hers, standing over her like a shield. She thought of the strange pull she felt whenever he was near and the way the word *mine* had echoed in her head.
"I'm angry," she said, tears burning her eyes. "I'm terrified. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff. But..." She took a shaky breath. "But I don't want to jump without looking. If I stay, you tell me everything. No more secrets."
Relief flickered across his face so raw it made her chest ache. He reached for her hand then, hesitant, and when she didn't pull away, his fingers wrapped around hers. The warmth of his skin seeped into her, steadying her racing heart.
"No more secrets," he vowed, squeezing gently. "I swear it."
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