Fated to Fall

Chapter 7

Chapter 7 : Secrets and Shadows

Draven sat alone in his private chambers, the flickering flame from a single candle casting long shadows across his face. His silver eyes, usually so sharp and unwavering, were now clouded with frustration and confusion. He had always believed he was invincible, the ruler who could command anything, anyone. But now, there was doubt. His power was slipping, his mind clouded, and he felt weaker than ever.

The weakness isn’t just physical.

Draven clenched his fists, the muscles in his arms tightening. The bond with Virella—the ritual, the claim—had drained him in ways he couldn’t explain. How could it be? He had been prepared to force her into submission for the good of the pack, but this bond had left him disoriented. The rare mutation in his wolf form, a curse that had plagued his ancestors, was tied directly to his mate. She was supposed to stabilize him, but she resisted.

His wolf form—often his greatest strength—had become unstable without the love and devotion needed to stabilize the curse. Without her willingly accepting the bond, I am falling apart.

Draven ran a hand through his dark hair in frustration. She doesn’t want me. She never has.

But the truth gnawed at him. He couldn’t let her go—he couldn’t let this curse break him, not now, not after all he had sacrificed to get to this point. But the truth also hurt in ways he hadn’t expected.

You need her to survive. But she’s rejecting you.

Draven pushed the thought aside. He couldn’t afford weakness. His people depended on him. The pack comes first.

Meanwhile, Virella’s thoughts churned as she paced her chambers. The discovery she had made in the old tomes earlier had unsettled her in ways she hadn’t anticipated. She had known Draven’s rule had been built on power and control, but she hadn’t realized the depth of the curse tied to his bloodline.

As she studied the ancient texts more closely, it became clear: the Sovereign’s wolf form was mutated, and it was directly linked to an ancient prophecy. The curse had been passed down through his family for generations, and now it was his burden to bear. Without the right mate to stabilize the curse, his power would continue to weaken—and eventually, he would lose control entirely.

But what intrigued her more was the mention of a dangerous entity that was tied to the mutation. It wasn’t just a curse—it was a pact with something darker, something that had given Draven’s ancestors power but at a terrible price.

What kind of man would rule over a pack knowing he’s bound to a curse like this? She couldn’t stop herself from wondering, though part of her felt pity for him—something she swore she’d never feel.

Still, she had to act. If Draven falls, everything will fall with him. The pack will crumble. And I will be dragged down with them.

But there was something else she had to find—something hidden beneath the layers of Draven’s secrets. If she could unravel the prophecy and the truth of his mutation, maybe she could find a way to free herself from this nightmare. She had no intention of being another part of his plan—especially not when she was nothing more than a pawn.

She knew she had to be careful. Draven’s guards were more watchful now. Any attempt to escape, to run, would be met with an iron fist. And so, Virella’s investigation continued in secret. She scoured the archives, searched for hidden rooms, old maps—anything that might hold a clue to breaking the bond or uncovering Draven’s true nature.

While Virella searched for answers, the pack faced a growing threat from rival factions. The news of Draven’s weakness had already begun to spread like wildfire. Whispers turned into roars as other packs scented opportunity in the air.

In the dimly lit war room, Rynar stood before the map of their territory, the edges of the parchment trembling slightly under his fingertips. The tension in the room was palpable, the fear and uncertainty mounting with each passing day.

“We need to act now,” Rynar said, his voice grim. “Word has spread. The other packs can sense it—Draven’s weakening. They think it’s their moment to take what we’ve built.”

One of the elders, a seasoned warrior named Vennor, scowled, his fingers tapping against his armrest. “What do they think they can do? Draven has the strength to crush them if they’re foolish enough to challenge him.”

Rynar’s gaze flicked toward the door where Draven had just left. “Draven is not the same. His strength is slipping—his wolf is weakening. If we don’t act soon, they’ll attack. And we won’t be able to stop them.”

“We can’t let this go on. We need to prepare for war.” Vennor’s words were sharp, but there was a hesitance beneath them. Even his most loyal followers couldn’t ignore the Sovereign’s vulnerabilities now.

But it wasn’t just the pack’s leadership that was fracturing. The whispers had reached beyond their borders, and rival packs saw an opportunity to tear down the Silver Claw’s walls. Packs from the north and west—who had long been in competition for territory and wealth—saw Draven’s weakness as a chance to strike. They could already taste victory.

Virella overheard the conversation in passing. The murmurs of rebellion. The fear in the air. For a brief moment, she almost felt a strange flicker of responsibility.

If Draven falls, the pack will collapse, she thought. She had no love for Draven, no desire to stand by his side, but the pack’s fate was tied to his survival. Her survival.

But then, another thought crossed her mind: Could she use this?

Virella had no illusions about what was at stake. She needed to find the key to breaking the bond—her bond—with Draven. She wasn’t interested in being his queen, his mate, or anything else. But if she could somehow leverage the chaos, if she could use the rival packs to her advantage, she might have a chance to escape it all.

She knew this game was dangerous, and yet, with each passing day, the power in Draven’s weakness grew. He needed her. And that made her dangerous.

Time was running out.

Virella spent the following days deep in the fortress’s forgotten corners, poring over every document she could find, searching for the truth. Meanwhile, Draven remained distracted with the growing unrest within his pack. He had more important matters on his mind than her—he had to regain control over his power, and his plan for the future didn’t leave room for his mate.

But what if Virella could turn his own curse against him? What if she could make Draven need her, even if it was for all the wrong reasons?

Her plan was dangerous, but then again, what did she have to lose?