Chapter 4 Chapter 4

The latch clicked, and everything went still.

I was alone in a room that smelled like pine, like quiet strength, like him. It wasn’t locked from the outside, but the silence pressed in the same way like I was waiting for the next blow to land.

I perched on the very edge of the bed, the rough wool of his too-big shirt itching against my neck. Time crawled. Moonlight crept slowly across the floorboards like it had nowhere better to be. Then the door opened again.

Alaric stepped in, holding a small bundle of dark fabric. He moved with that same calm certainty, filling the room without even trying. He set the clothes at the foot of the bed a short spaghetti gown, a boot, a belt.

“These should fit you better,” he said, voice low and straightforward. “Bathhouse is out back. It’s private. There’s a lock on the door.” His green eye found mine and held them. “You’ll be safe.”

The word hit me like a pebble dropped in still water. Ripples spread through the fear I’d been carrying for days.

He paused, like he was giving me space to speak. When I stayed quiet, he asked, “What’s your name?”

It took real effort. The sound had to claw its way up from a throat that hadn’t wanted to make words in forever. “Nova.”

He didn’t smile, but something in his face softened just a little. Like the name actually landed. “Nova,” he repeated, and hearing it in his voice made it feel… real. Important. He gave a quick nod. “I’ll send Elara to help you.”

I started shaking my head no, no help, no one looking at me, no pity but he was already turning. “She’ll just drop off soap and towels. That’s all.”

He left, and the quiet came rushing back, heavier than before. I stared at the clothes. They looked like acceptance. Like a trap I might actually want to step into.

A soft knock came not long after. An older woman with kind eyes and silver running through her dark hair stepped in. She didn’t stare at my face just set a basket by the door.

“The bath is right through there, child,” she said, her voice gentle and steady, like water moving over stones. “Water’s hot. Take as long as you need.”

She slipped out without another word. I waited a full minute, counting heartbeats, then grabbed the new clothes and the basket and hurried out the back door.

The bathhouse was small and warm, steam already drifting up from the full copper tub. The lock on the door was thick and solid. My hands shook as I slid the bolt. That heavy clunk felt like the best thing I’d heard in forever my knees almost buckled from pure relief.

I stripped off his clothes, and letting his scent fade from my skin felt like losing something precious and winning at the same time. The water was hot enough to sting, exactly what I needed. I sank in, letting the heat scour away the forest dirt, the dried sweat of panic.

I scrubbed until my skin turned pink, watching the grime swirl down the drain. But the stain inside the hot, wrong throb of Drake’s stolen essence didn’t budge. It stayed buried, unreachable.

Clean, dressed in the soft dark tunic and trousers that actually fit for once, I felt strangely new and somehow more exposed. Back in the cabin, a bowl of stew and a hunk of bread sat on the table, still steaming. He must have come in while I was bathing. The quiet thoughtfulness of it unsettled me more than anything else.

I ate. The food was simple, warm, good. It settled heavy in my stomach. Exhaustion—the kind I’d been pushing away for days—finally slammed into me like a wave I couldn’t outrun. The bed, with its clean sheets and soft wool blanket, called louder than I could ignore.

I lay down, body stiff at first, then slowly melting into the softness I’d almost forgotten existed. The pillow smelled faintly of sun and fresh air. Sleep didn’t ease in—it dragged me under like deep, black water.

The dream came back exactly the same, cruel and perfect.

Drake’s fingers clamped around my wrist, burning. The sneer twisting his face. “Show me, freak.” His claw glinting in the light—not aimed at himself. At me. A slow, deliberate show of power.

My gift didn’t rise soft and careful. It erupted—cold, ravenous light exploding from somewhere deep and dark inside me. Not healing. Taking.

I felt it latch onto the bright, blazing core of him. Felt the exact shape of his arrogance, the snarling edges of his wolf alive, fierce, golden. And I pulled.

“NO!” My scream echoed inside my own head. But the light didn’t listen.

It ripped a piece of him loose a roaring strand of life and dragged it straight into me. Swallowing a sun. It scorched. It sang. It violated.

The rest of him didn’t die. It just… hollowed out. The light in his eyes didn’t fade it vanished, like someone had blown out a candle in a place with no stars. His body crumpled to the moss, empty, strings cut.

And inside me, that stolen sun thrashed trapped, furious, WRONG, WRONG, Wrong.

The scream tore out of my throat, raw and full of terror that had been building for days. I bolted upright, gasping, hands clawing at my chest like I could dig the fire out. The room was dark, nightmare afterimages still searing my vision.

The door flew open.

Alaric stood there in the faint moonlight spilling from the main room. Hair wild, eyes wide and sharp. Barefoot, shirtless, sleep pants riding low. He scanned the room fast, looking for a threat, then saw only me shaking, wild-eyed, knotted in his sheets.

“Nova?” His voice was thick with sleep, edged with real worry. “You were dreaming.”

I could only nod, breath still coming in short, shaky bursts.

He crossed the room in two long strides, reaching for me. Not to pin me down to steady me. His hand settled on my shoulder.

The second his skin touched mine, a spark jumped.

Not a feeling. A real, bright arc of gold-tinged light flickered from his fingertips to my bare arm where the sleeve had slipped up. Warm, electric, alive it raced through my veins, burning away the nightmare cold and quieting the stolen essence’s throb in one clean, bright flash.

We both went still.

The air crackled between us for a single, endless second after the spark jumped from his hand to my skin. I felt it everywhere—a sharp, sweet jolt that settled deep in my bones.

We both jerked back. Adrian stared at his fingers like they’d betrayed him. Then his eyes snapped to mine, wide and full of a shock that mirrored my own.

He knew.

I knew.

Every shifter knows that spark.It only happens one way.

Mate.

The word screamed inside my head, too huge to say out loud. This couldn’t be happening. He was the future Alpha. I was nothing. A fugitive. A secret monster. Mates were supposed to make sense. This made no sense at all.

He stood up abruptly, putting distance between us. He ran a hand through his dark hair, his back tense. He didn’t look at me.

“Sleep,” was all he said, his voice rough. He walked out and closed the door, leaving me alone with the humming silence and the impossible truth.