A Desperate Proposal
The room felt suffocating as Isla stood in the center, Draven’s imposing frame mere inches away. His dark eyes burned into hers, unrelenting, a question hanging between them like a blade suspended in air.
“Well?” His voice was low, deliberate. “Are you going to agree, or are we wasting each other’s time?”
Isla’s fingers trembled, but she clenched them into fists, grounding herself. Her wolf, Lira, stirred within her mind, steady and calm. Play the game for now. We’ll figure it out later.
Her throat felt dry as she forced the word out. “Yes.”
Draven tilted his head slightly, his mouth curving into a slow, deliberate smile. Satisfaction rolled off him in waves. “Good. You’re smarter than I thought.”
Her pulse spiked, anger bubbling beneath her fear. “And you’re more arrogant than I imagined.”
His brows lifted, his smirk deepening. “Oh, little rogue,” he murmured, his voice dripping with condescension, “you haven’t begun to imagine me yet.”
Isla gritted her teeth, her body taut with restrained frustration. Draven’s gaze lingered a beat too long before he turned sharply, the door slamming behind him as he left. She exhaled shakily, her heart racing as she leaned against the wall.
***
Outside, Seraphine approached the packhouse with calculated steps, her dark hair gleaming under the moonlight. The faint scent of Isla still lingered, though it was masked by the unfamiliar tang of Crimson Fang wolves. A slow smile spread across her face.
The door opened, and she was greeted by Draven’s towering figure. For a moment, her confidence faltered as she took him in—the sharp angles of his jaw, the commanding set of his shoulders. He was everything the rumors had said, and more.
“Well, hello,” she purred, extending a hand. “You must be Alpha Draven.”
Draven’s dark eyes swept over her with cool detachment. “And you are?”
“Seraphine,” she said, letting her fingers linger as he shook her hand. Her smile widened as she leaned in slightly. “Of the Midnight Crest pack. I believe we share… common interests.”
Draven’s gaze didn’t waver, his grip firm but dismissive. “If this is about a treaty, I suggest you get to the point.”
“Oh, I’m not here for treaties,” Seraphine said, her voice honeyed. She stepped closer, tilting her head as her lips curved into a coy smile. “I wanted to meet the infamous Alpha Draven myself. Your reputation precedes you.”
Draven’s lip twitched, his amusement faint but unmistakable. “Flattery won’t get you far here.”
Seraphine’s smile faltered for a split second before she recovered. “I admire strength, Alpha. And you have it in spades. Surely you’ve noticed… I’m not like other she-wolves.”
Draven’s eyes narrowed slightly, his tone cooling. “You’re wasting my time.”
Before she could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the doorway. Her jaw tightened as she watched him disappear into the packhouse, her polished demeanor cracking.
***
Upstairs, Isla paced in her room, her thoughts spiraling. Every interaction with Draven left her feeling off-balance, her defenses worn thin by his piercing gaze and cutting words. She stopped by the window, staring out at the sprawling territory below.
“What kind of life is this?” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “A deal… for an heir?”
We’ll survive it,We always do.
Isla’s stomach twisted. “At what cost?”
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock. Her heart leapt into her throat as the door creaked open, revealing Draven’s dark silhouette. He stepped inside, his gaze scanning the room before settling on her.
“You agreed,” he said simply, his tone unreadable. “Now you need to prove it.”
She straightened, her pulse hammering in her ears. “Prove what, exactly?”
Draven stepped closer, the air between them crackling with tension. “That you’re more than just a desperate rogue.” His eyes raked over her, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur. “I need to know you’re worth the risk.”
Isla swallowed hard, her body taut as his presence pressed down on her. “And how exactly do I do that?” she asked, her voice steady despite the heat crawling up her neck.
Draven’s lips quirked into a faint smirk, and he reached out, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. The touch was brief, almost careless, but it sent a jolt through her.
“Surprise me,” he said, his voice laced with dark amusement.
Before she could respond, he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him. Isla’s knees gave out as she sank onto the edge of the bed, her heart pounding.
We need to get out of here,
Not yet,There’s too much we don’t know.
Isla closed her eyes, gripping the edge of the mattress. She didn’t have to like the game she was playing, but she would see it through. For now.
