A Lingering Doubt
The fire in Draven’s private chambers burned low, casting flickering shadows over the walls. He sat in a high-backed chair near the hearth, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands steepled as he stared into the flames. The events of the night replayed endlessly in his mind, each thought gnawing at him like a predator circling its prey.
Something wasn’t right.
He had sensed it the moment he touched her, the moment their bodies moved toward what should have been the consummation of their bond. Her scent had been slightly off, her reactions not quite what he had anticipated. And then there was the truth she had revealed—about Kael, about her supposed betrayal. It didn’t add up.
Draven’s jaw tightened as he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He had expected her to be pure, untouched. That was what he had been drawn to from the beginning, the purity of her essence. But tonight, something had shifted. Something about her wasn’t the same.
He stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as he rose. He couldn’t stay here, drowning in his doubts. He needed clarity, and for that, he needed space.
Draven strode to the door, throwing it open and summoning Susan and Jamie, two of his most trusted pack members. They appeared within moments, their expressions curious but respectful.
“Alpha,” Susan said, her brow furrowing slightly. “You called?”
“I need you to keep an eye on the Luna,” Draven said, his voice clipped. “Make sure she’s comfortable. If she needs anything, handle it.”
Susan tilted her head, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “Is something wrong?”
Draven hesitated, his hand gripping the doorframe tightly. “I just need air,” he said finally, his tone softer but still strained. Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode down the hallway, leaving Susan and Jamie exchanging uncertain glances.
The moment he stepped outside, the cool night air hit his skin, sharp and bracing. Draven inhaled deeply, his wolf stirring restlessly within him. He shifted seamlessly, his dark fur gleaming in the moonlight as he bounded into the forest. The rhythm of his paws against the earth was steady, grounding, but his thoughts continued to race.
As he ran, the wind rushing past his ears, fragments of doubt swirled through his mind. The woman in his chambers wore Isla’s face, bore her mark, but something beneath the surface felt… wrong. He had trusted his instincts his entire life, and now they screamed at him to pay attention.
Draven stopped abruptly in a clearing, his breaths coming in sharp bursts as he gazed up at the moon. If his suspicions were right, if something was amiss, he needed to figure it out—quickly.
For now, though, he would run. It was the only way to
