Nyra woke to pain before she opened her eyes.
It lived in her ribs, her jaw, her back—every breath pulling against something bruised and broken. For a moment, she stayed still, staring into the darkness behind her eyelids, pretending that if she didn't move, the world wouldn't move with her.
It always did.
Slowly, she forced her eyes open.
The room looked the same. Small. Cold. Unforgiving.
Her body felt heavier than usual, like something had pressed her into the floor while she slept. The faint hum she had felt the night before lingered just beneath her skin, quieter now—but still there.
Waiting.
Nyra pushed herself up with shaking arms.
Her muscles protested immediately, but she ignored it. Pain was familiar. It meant she was still conscious. Still here.
Still trapped.
The memory of yesterday flashed through her mind.
The way he had looked at her.
The way he had fallen.
Nyra swallowed.
That hadn't been normal.
And he knew it.
A soft click broke the silence.
Her heart dropped.
The door opened.
He stepped inside.
This time, he didn't speak right away.
He just watched her.
Nyra kept her head slightly lowered, but her eyes lifted just enough to track his movements. Something about him felt different today. Not calmer.
Sharper.
Like he was looking for something.
"You're awake," he said finally.
She said nothing.
He closed the door behind him.
Locked it.
Then he walked toward her slowly, each step measured, controlled.
"You're going to show me what you did."
Nyra's chest tightened. "I don't know what you mean."
He stopped in front of her.
"Yes. You do."
Before she could react, his hand closed around her arm and yanked her to her feet. Pain shot through her side, and she gasped despite herself.
"Do it again."
"I can't—"
The slap came faster this time.
Her head snapped to the side, her vision blurring.
"You don't get to decide that."
He shoved her back.
She stumbled, barely catching herself before she hit the wall.
"Do it."
Nyra's breath came uneven.
"I don't know how."
His expression darkened.
"Then learn."
He moved.
Too fast.
His fist drove into her ribs, and something cracked—not bone, but close enough that her body folded instinctively.
The hum inside her flickered.
Weak.
Unstable.
"Again."
Another hit.
The pressure grew.
Nyra squeezed her eyes shut, trying to control it, to stop it, to pretend it wasn't there.
But it didn't listen.
It pulsed.
The air shifted.
A faint tremor ran through the floor.
He paused.
Just for a second.
Nyra felt it.
His hesitation.
His awareness.
Then it was gone.
Replaced by anger.
"What are you hiding?"
"I'm not—"
He grabbed her throat.
Hard.
Her back hit the wall as he lifted her slightly off the ground. Her hands flew to his wrist, trying to pull him away, but he didn't move.
"You think I'm stupid?"
Nyra couldn't breathe.
The pressure inside her surged violently.
Her vision darkened.
Her chest burned.
And then—
It snapped.
The air around them exploded outward.
He was thrown back again, harder this time, crashing into the opposite wall with enough force to shake the room.
Nyra collapsed to the floor, coughing, dragging in air like she had been drowning.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Charged.
He didn't move immediately.
Then slowly—too slowly—he pushed himself up.
This time, there was no confusion in his eyes.
Only fury.
And something else.
Fear.
"You're not just a weak wolf," he said, voice low.
Nyra's stomach dropped.
He knew.
Not everything.
But enough.
He crossed the room in seconds.
She didn't even have time to react before his boot slammed into her side, sending her sliding across the floor.
Pain exploded through her again.
"Whatever you are," he continued, advancing, "you should have stayed hidden."
Another strike.
Another.
Nyra curled into herself, her body shaking uncontrollably.
The hum had vanished again.
Leaving only pain.
Only weakness.
Only silence.
"Stay like this," he muttered. "It suits you."
Then he turned and left.
The door slammed.
The lock clicked.
Nyra didn't move.
She couldn't.
Her body lay still on the cold floor, her breaths shallow, uneven.
But deep inside—
Something remained.
Not gone.
Not broken.
Waiting.
Watching.
And then—
Darkness.
KAEL POV
Kael felt it before he understood it.
A sharp pull.
Deep in his chest.
He froze mid-step, his body going rigid as something unfamiliar tore through him.
Not pain.
Not instinct.
Something else.
His wolf surged violently, pressing against his control.
Mine.
Kael's jaw tightened.
"No," he muttered under his breath.
Impossible.
The bond between mates was unmistakable.
Singular.
Unbreakable.
And this—
This felt wrong.
Stronger.
Wilder.
Like it had been forced into existence.
His breath slowed.
Then stopped.
Pain hit him again.
Not his.
Hers.
Kael staggered slightly, his hand clenching into a fist.
What the hell was this?
He had never felt anything like it.
Fear.
Pain.
Something ancient.
Something powerful.
All tangled together in a bond that should not exist.
His eyes darkened.
"Alpha?"
One of his men stepped forward, concern clear in his voice.
Kael ignored him.
He focused on the feeling instead.
Followed it.
It pulled him east.
Faint.
But clear.
His wolf growled.
"She's there."
The words came out before he could stop them.
The man frowned. "Who?"
Kael didn't answer.
He didn't know.
But he knew one thing.
She was his.
And she was in danger.
That was enough.
"Prepare the horses," he ordered.
The man hesitated. "We don't even know what—"
"Now."
The command snapped through the air, sharp and absolute.
No one argued again.
Kael turned toward the forest, his gaze fixed on something only he could feel.
The bond pulsed again.
Weaker now.
Fading.
Rage burned through him.
Whoever had touched her—
Whoever had hurt her—
Would not survive it.
His wolf pushed forward, restless, violent.
For the first time in years—
Kael welcomed it.