It's still me
I wrench the balcony door open. Cold night air knifes across my skin. I keep telling myself I can do this and I will.
No one deserves to be wedded like this. So, I don't think. I climb the rail.
The stone is cold, slick under my fingers. Torches flare, horns sound.
"Lady!" Clair screams.
But I already jumped.
The wind tears the breath from my throat, the world flipping into a blur of stone and firelight.
For a heartbeat I swear I see him—eyes like molten silver cutting through the darkness, locked on mine—as I fall into the night.
The stone hits beneath my feet with a hard, scraping jolt. I roll, scrambling to regain balance when I hear a voice.
"Where are you going, lady?"
"I—" My words falter. I'm caught mid-leap, clutching the edge of a low wall for balance.
He steps closer, boots clanging against the stones. "I didn't think a Silverthorne daughter would be out wandering alone at this hour."
"I… I need—" I falter again, throat tight. "I need to leave!"
Who is this dreadful man? I surveyed him but no name comes to mind.
Before I can finish, he moves with lightning speed, closing the distance. One arm wraps around my waist, lifting me from the wall as if I weigh nothing. My skirts flare, wind whipping through the night, and I gasp, scrambling for purchase.
"Let me go!" I thrash, kicking, clawing at his cloak.
He doesn't tighten his grip. Instead, his voice drops, deep and amused. "You're not going anywhere. Not tonight anyway"
I stare at him, wide-eyed. "Who—what are you, insolent man?"
My gaze catches the glint of his weapon, the intricate tattoos curling along his forearms and neck. A chill runs down my spine. Oh Goddess…
"You're… an enemy."
"Mmm…" His tongue flicks over his teeth, sharp, predatory. "You're Naomi Silverthorne."
I stumble back in his grasp, heart hammering. "How—how do you know my name?"
He shifts, holding me effortlessly against him. "Are you running away from your house, Your Highness?"
" I...I have gold!" My hands found my necklace and I offered it to him. " You..know this land, I'll offer you anything if you help me run away!"
His eyes flick down to the necklace but he doesn't take it. "Gold?" He laughs softly, the sound more like a growl. "Little dove, do I look like a man who bleeds for coin?"
My breath catches. His fingers tighten just enough to keep me still.
"I could take this," he says, brushing a thumb across the pendant, his skin hot against mine. "But I don't want your trinkets." His eyes rise to mine, glinting like a wolf's. "I want to know why the Moon's favorite daughter thinks she can run from her fate."
"Please…" My voice cracks, breathless. "I have to get away…" I tug at his arm, frantic, desperate. "I can't—if they see me—if I'm taken—"
He tilts his head, and suddenly he's impossibly close. My cheek brushes against the cold of his chest, his arms holding me tight.
I jerk back slightly, but he doesn't release me. "Please—please, I'll give you anything! Just—let me go!"
"What can you possibly offer, my lady?"
"Anything!" I gasp, heart hammering, voice trembling.
"Anything?" He drags the word out, letting it roll over me like a warning. His teeth graze my hair. "Even…"
I swallow hard, heat flaring across my cheeks.
He tilts his head, letting the moonlight catch his eyes. There's a pause, just long enough to make my breath catch.
"Ah…" he murmurs, almost to himself, before letting the corner of his mouth curl. "So precious… and so desperate. So, Anything, you say? Even… yourself?"
"I… I…"
I have never been claimed, my thoughts scream. Moon help me…he doesn't want that, right?
His eyes catch the moonlight—bright, feral, unreadable.
Then, softly, almost a whisper: "If you offer yourself…" His fingers trace my throat, not quite touching. "I'll help you."
"I'd rather die!" I sputter, scandalized beyond belief, trying to twist free, but his grip is impossibly strong. "I will never—"
He tilts my chin with one finger, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Ah…so you'll rather be betrothed to the Alpha Lord?"
How does he know that?
However, our union is announced to every pack by my very own father to establish his crown so I should not be shocked by it.
My heart stutters. "I-I am not a Silverthorne."
"Your hair says otherwise, my lady," he replied, gently combing my hair. "You don't want me to help you escape so I assume you are accepting your fate to be wedded to the Alpha Lord, then?"
"Too bad," he cuts in, his voice dropping lower, darker. "Because you're already in his hands."
"What?"
The stranger leans in, so close his breath grazes my ear. "You offer me gold, your freedom… even your virtue…" his teeth flash in the dim light. "But all of that was mine before you even stepped out of your chamber."
I blink, confused. "What are you—"
"It's still me, little Silverthorne."
"No…"
This is not happening to me. I am not this unlucky.
"Yes," the stranger says. "You've been begging your Alpha Lord all along."
*****