Chapter 70 Chapter Seventy
Draevyn approached her slowly, the crowd parting without a word—like even they sensed something sacred in his stride.
His gaze never left her.
Not for a second.
It pierced through every wall she’d built, seeping into the faintest fractures she hadn’t meant to form.
Kaelani held her ground… until she couldn’t. Her eyes dropped—just for a moment—as if shielding herself from a feeling she couldn’t explain.
Her wolf stirred.
“Not ours.”
The voice was dry. Irritated.
Kaelani clenched her jaw and lifted her gaze again—just as Draevyn came to a stop before her.
“I’m glad you came,” he said, his voice a velvet hush beneath the music and firelight.
She shifted her weight, trying for nonchalance. “Thank you for the dress,” she said softly. “It’s… beautiful.”
A faint smile curved his mouth. Not smug. Not charming.
Worshipful.
“Not nearly as beautiful,” he murmured, “as the fire you don’t yet know you carry.”
Something fluttered violently in her chest.
Her wolf snarled in aversion.
Draevyn extended his hand—not like a prince claiming a partner, but like a flame offering warmth.
Kaelani hesitated.
Then placed her hand in his.
The contact was brief. Chaste. But it sent a whisper through her skin that made her pulse tick faster.
He led her deeper into the celebration, where the music swelled and laughter shimmered through the trees like stardust.
Kaelani drank slowly at first.
A sip here. A bite there. Letting herself be pulled along by Draevyn’s quiet gravity.
He didn’t hover, but somehow always seemed to be near—guiding her without cornering her. When a spiral dance began in the clearing, he caught her hand again, gently tugging her into the current.
“It’s easy,” he murmured, voice close to her ear. “Just follow the rhythm.”
Kaelani shot him a wary look. “That’s what people say right before they spin you into a tree.”
He smirked. “You’ll be fine.”
And she was.
Her steps were uncertain at first, but Draevyn moved with practiced ease, showing her where to place her feet, how to turn when the others turned, when to let go and when to return. The others smiled—some wide, some guarded—but none pulled away.
The wine flushed warm in her cheeks. The music folded into her bones. Time lost its edges.
Later—she wasn’t sure how much later—Kaelani found herself wandering the edge of the gathering with a half-empty goblet in hand. She wasn’t stumbling, but there was a softness in her limbs now. A looseness in her breath.
The sky above stretched vast and dark, pierced by twin moons and constellations she didn’t recognize. And there—threaded between them—were the firelights.
Dancing. Flickering. Drifting like the breath of the gods.
Kaelani tipped her head back, gaze catching on the celestial glow. The music behind her softened to a hum.
She stood there, wine warm in her grip, watching the sky like it might whisper secrets back.
Kaelani lifted the goblet to her lips again, letting the last sip of wine coat her tongue. Sweet. Spiced. A little too warm.
The firelights swirled above, and for once, she felt like she belonged to something. Not because she was pretending. Not because someone allowed her to stand at the edge and watch—
But because she was becoming.
Not a burden.
Not a secret tucked behind stronger bloodlines.
Someone.
She didn’t have to make herself small anymore. Didn’t have to fade into shadows just to survive the presence of others. Didn’t have to brace herself for the way their eyes would search her—and find her lacking.
She could finally stand tall.
But even in this strange and growing sense of power… something tugged.
A quiet emptiness, nestled beneath her ribs.
She hated the thought.
Fought it.
But the moment the music behind her dulled, and the forest wind cooled against her skin, her mind drifted—like it always seemed to when the world went still.
Julian.
She cursed herself for it.
She had sworn she wouldn’t think of him. Not tonight. Not here, surrounded by enchantment, wonder and light.
And yet, there he was. Unbidden.
The shape of his voice. The look in his eyes. The way his presence felt like gravity—steady and consuming—even when it also dared to pull her apart.
She squeezed her eyes shut and let her mind drift—loose and unguarded, as if the wine had melted her last defenses. The air suddenly stilled, the sounds of laughter and music fading into nothingness around her. She allowed herself—just this once—to wonder. To ache. To imagine.
Julian still lingered in the back of her thoughts, like a name whispered in the dark.
And as she leaned into the quiet—into the warmth in her blood and the pull behind her eyes…
The world shifted.
When she opened them, she wasn’t in the Dark Forest anymore.
She was sitting in a chair made of velvet and gold, a wine glass poised between her fingers, the clink of crystal echoing softly around her. The scent of roasted figs, aged wine, and something faintly floral hung in the air. A restaurant—no, therestaurant. The kind you needed status to enter. Legacy to afford.
Everything shimmered—sleek black marble floors, candlelight suspended midair like stars, a string quartet playing somewhere behind a curtain of silk.
And in front of her…
Julian.