Fated to Fall

Chapter 10

Chapter 10: A Chance Encounter

The fortress was quieter than usual, the shadows stretching long in the flickering torchlight that lined the cold stone hallways. Virella moved swiftly but quietly, her thoughts swirling as she clutched a small satchel of herbs she had gathered from the infirmary’s new supplies. The recent arrival of fresh plants and healing tools had sparked something unexpected inside her—a flicker of hope and a chance to reclaim a piece of herself.

She rounded a corner and nearly collided with a figure standing in the dim corridor.

Draven.

He stood rigid, his posture commanding even in the soft light, but his usual icy composure wavered—just for a moment.

Their eyes met, and something unspoken flickered between them.

For a heartbeat, neither moved.

Then, his gaze dropped slightly to her lips, and a rush of memory flooded him—the lingering warmth of her kiss, the way her mouth had grazed his skin, igniting a fire he couldn’t extinguish.

For once, the Sovereign Alpha seemed uncertain.

“I—” Draven began, his voice rough and unsteady, a rare stutter breaking the usual steel in his tone. “How are you?”

Virella’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away, unwilling to meet his gaze. Her voice was measured, steady despite the flutter in her chest.

“I’m managing. What do you need?”

His brow furrowed in confusion, then realization. “I—I mean… what do you need?”

The vulnerability in his question caught her off guard. It was the first time he had asked after her needs rather than issuing commands.

Virella hesitated, then spoke, the tiniest smile breaking through her guarded expression.

“I need more healing supplies. Plants—herbs. Tools. The infirmary has new stock, but it’s not enough. If I’m to help the pack… I need to practice, to get stronger.”

Draven’s eyes softened, and the tension around him eased just a fraction.

“The new herbs in the infirmary… you’re happy with them?”

“Yes,” Virella admitted, her voice lighter. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that… spark of hope. To heal, to create rather than just survive.”

For a moment, they simply stood there—two warriors bound by duty, tangled in unspoken emotions and the fragile threads of a bond that neither dared fully explore.

Draven’s usual intensity softened into something more human, almost tentative. “I’ll see to it that you get whatever you need,” he said quietly, almost a promise.

Virella nodded, still unable to meet his eyes but feeling the weight of that promise like a small balm to the wounds neither had shown.

As she turned to leave, Draven’s voice caught her just before she rounded the corner.

“Virella…”

She paused, heart pounding.

But he said no more.

Alone again, Virella allowed herself a small, genuine smile. It was a brief moment of connection, a crack in the wall between them.

For all the pain, all the power struggles and curses, perhaps there was a chance—however small—for something for her to look forward to.