THE BLOOD THAT WOKE THE WOLF

I AM NOT YOURS

“You don’t remember me.”

The words hung in the air between us.

I stared at Draven, trying to piece together what he meant. Had we met before? I searched my memory. Nothing. His face—blank. That deep voice—never heard it. Not even those strange silver eyes that felt like they could look right through me.

I shook my head. “I’ve never seen you before.”

Something flashed across his face—pain, maybe. It vanished so quickly I nearly doubted I saw it.

“You have.”

“Then tell me where.”

He didn’t say a word.

I could feel my frustration boiling. “You walk into my pack, break up my rejection, call me your mate, and now act like I should remember you?”

His eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

I nearly laughed. “You’re insane.”

Around us, I heard shocked breaths. Someone whispered my name, like a warning.

Draven didn’t budge. He just kept watching me. “You’re coming with me.”

“No.” The word was out before I thought about it.

Silence. Everyone froze. Even Elias gaped at me like I’d lost my mind. No one ever said no to the Lycan King.

But I wasn’t thinking about titles now.

All my life, everyone told me what I was. Wolfless. Weak. Useless. Rejected. I wasn’t about to trade one captor for another.

Draven took a step closer. I didn’t move.

“I said no.”

His gaze dropped to my trembling hands, then back to my face.

“You’re afraid.”

“Of you?”

“No.” His voice was softer now. “Of what happens if you stay.”

I swallowed. “Then tell me what happens.”

He stayed quiet.

My anger snapped back. “Exactly.” I folded my arms tight. “You know something.”

He wouldn’t blink. “You’re hiding something from me.”

“I am.”

His honesty shocked me.

“At least you admit it.”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

My heart stuttered. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know you.”

His eyes caught mine. “You will.”

I hated how sure he sounded.

I glanced at the doors. “I’m leaving.”

Draven didn’t move. So I took a step. Then another. Still nothing.

I turned. “You’re not going to stop me?”

“No.”

That answer knocked me sideways. “Why?”

“Because you said no.”

Those three words rattled me more than I wanted to admit. I expected orders. Command. Maybe even a show of force. But he just stepped back.

“You can stay.”

I frowned. “That’s it?”

“No.” He looked toward the hall entrance. “But if you stay, they’ll come for you.”

A cold chill ran through me. “Who?”

His jaw tensed, expression hardening. He didn’t get a chance to answer.

THWACK.

Something ripped through the air—a black arrow, coming straight for me.

I couldn’t move.

Draven was faster. He stepped in front of me, snatching the arrow just inches from my face. The hit shoved him back half a step.

Gasps echoed around us.

He checked the arrow, then his eyes went cold. “Stay behind me.”

This time, I listened.

A figure dropped from the balcony above. Black clothes. Hooded face. Silver blade in hand.

He lunged. Draven charged to meet him. The impact sent a shockwave through the room.

The attacker swung. Draven ducked low, then punched the man’s ribs—hard. The guy crashed across the floor.

I backed away, heart slamming in my chest. This wasn’t a fight. This was a m******e.

Draven moved with vicious speed. The assassin just barely managed to block the next blow.

Another figure sprang up behind me. I spun—too late. Someone grabbed my arm and yanked me backward.

I screamed.

The grip tightened.

“Let her go!” Draven roared. His fury shook the hall.

A blade pressed against my throat. “Stay back, Lycan.”

Draven froze. For one second, I saw fear in his eyes—not for him. For me.

The hooded man sneered. “So the rumors were true.” His eyes flicked over me. “The sleeping heir has awakened.”

I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

His grip squeezed tighter. “You don’t even know what you are.”

Draven’s voice was ice. “Let her go.”

The man just laughed. “You should have killed her years ago.”

My stomach lurched. “What?”

Draven’s expression shifted. The assassin shoved me forward—letting go. I stumbled, but Draven caught me before I hit the floor.

The cloaked man threw something down. Black smoke burst out, swallowing up everything. Screams exploded around us.

When the smoke cleared, he was gone.

Draven held me close. I could feel his heart racing through his shirt. Too fast. Way too fast.

I looked up at him. “You were afraid.”

He met my eyes. “I wasn’t afraid.”

“Yes, you were.”

He wouldn’t answer.

I pushed out of his arms. “What’s the sleeping heir?”

No response. He glanced at the spot where the assassin vanished, then stared at the floor.

Something small and black lay there. He crouched, picked it up, and the moment he saw it, every bit of emotion vanished from his face. He clenched the metal symbol tight.

“What is it?” I asked.

He said nothing.

“Draven.”

He finally looked at me. For the first time, the mighty Lycan King seemed honestly shaken.

He stepped closer, voice barely more than a breath. “They weren’t supposed to find you this soon.”