Chapter 72 Chapter Seventy-Two
Kaelani stood alone near the edge of the glade, shadows weaving around her feet like they sensed the shift inside her. The dream—if that’s what it was—still clung to her skin. Her breath felt heavier. Her heartbeat… slower, then quicker, then unsure altogether.
The wine was still warm in her blood, but that hadn’t been some drunken vision. She’d been there. She had felt his presence.
Footsteps broke the silence.
She turned quickly, fingers tightening on the goblet—then relaxed at the sight of Draevyn emerging from the thicket, moonlight etching his profile in silver.
“I was wondering where you ran off to,” he said, voice low, casual—but there was a flicker of something more curious beneath the surface.
His gaze swept the secluded alcove, then settled on her face. Whatever lightness had touched his tone faded slightly when he saw the unsettled look in her eyes.
“Is everything alright?”
Kaelani hesitated.
The dream-walk. The restaurant. Julian’s face. The way she’d felt the heat radiating off him—felt the panic, the rawness of his voice.
She fidgeted, shifting her weight, and forced a soft breath through her nose.
“I’m fine,” she said, her voice more even than she expected. “It’s just the wine… kicking in.”
The music seemed to come into focus again—clearer now, softer. A slower melody threaded through the trees, delicate and hauntingly beautiful. The notes curled through the clearing like smoke, wrapping around Kaelani’s limbs, tugging at something inside her she hadn’t realized was frayed.
Draevyn took a step closer, his voice low.
“May I have this dance?”
He held out a hand, palm up, inviting.
Kaelani stared at it for a moment, uncertain. Her fingers twitched at her side.
A faint smile played on his lips. “You’ll break my heart if you refuse.”
That earned the barest breath of a laugh from her. She breathed in slowly, then placed her hand in his.
He guided her in gently, his hand settling at her waist while hers rested lightly on his shoulder. Their other hands remained joined—his touch warm, grounding.
And then… he began to lead.
As they danced, Kaelani couldn’t help but think how beautiful it all was.
The forest shimmered around them like something out of a dream—enchanted and endless. Twin moons floated high above, casting pale light through the canopy, and the stars blinked like blessings overhead. Firelights drifted through the trees in lazy spirals, trailing silver-gold sparks in their wake. Everything smelled of night-blooming blossoms and distant magic.
It was… perfect.
More than she ever could’ve imagined.
More than she ever thought she’d deserve.
So why, then, did it feel like she was dancing with a hole in her chest?
Why did something ache so deeply inside her, even here, even now?
She tried to push the thought away—but it pressed up through her ribs like it was fighting for air. Her mind betrayed her, dragging her back to a different dance. One carved not from stars, but from memory.
The dream with Julian.
The red dress.
That old love song playing slow and melodic.
The way he held her—arms wrapped tight around her body like she was everything he never wanted to lose. Like letting go would’ve killed him.
But he had let go.
Not once.
Not even just twice.
Too many times he could have told her what she was to him.
And each time he remained tongue-tied, it cut deeper than the last—until she wasn’t sure there was anything left in her that hadn’t been carved hollow by his own actions.
Draevyn’s hand unlocked from hers.
With a gentleness that betrayed the power he carried, he reached up and tilted her chin toward him. His fingers were cool, careful.
Her eyes met his—glistening with unshed tears.
He studied her for a moment, his voice a low murmur that curled like mist in the space between them.
“What dares to trouble you tonight?”
Kaelani blinked quickly, tipping her face downward. “It’s nothing.”
Draevyn’s head tilted, the faintest crease between his brows.
“Anything that can bring such pain to your eyes… isn’t nothing.”
His voice was gentle but firm, coaxing the truth without forcing it.
Then—softly—he asked, “Is this about him?”
Kaelani hesitated. Her arms stiffened slightly where they still touched. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
Draevyn was quiet a moment, then spoke again—his tone still calm, but edged with something heavier now.
“Let me ask you something.”
She didn’t respond. He continued anyway.
“Do you love him?”
A pause.
“I mean… really love him? Or do you just feel like you’re supposed to—because of the bond? Because some thread decided to tangle your soul with his before either of you had a choice?”
Kaelani didn’t answer.
She couldn’t.
The question alone unraveled something in her. Pulled at strings she wasn’t ready to tug loose. Because the truth was murky. Heavy. Entangled with longing and betrayal, memory and hope.
Did she love Julian?
Or had the bond just convinced her that she should?
Before she could even begin to untangle it, Draevyn’s voice pulled her back.
“Let me ask you another question.”
His tone was soft. Not mocking. Just… curious.
“What has he ever done,” he asked, “to show you that he deserves your love?”
She stood still.
The weight of the firelights above seemed to press down, flickering across her skin like judgment.
Her voice came slowly. Barely a whisper.
“He defended me… from the Lycan Council.”
Draevyn tilted his head, eyes narrowing—not with judgment, but clarity.
“You mean the Council,” he said slowly, “that you never would’ve had to stand before if he’d just claimed you from the start?”
His words hit like a lash.
“If he had simply admitted to himself—and everyone else—that you were his fated mate. That he was going to choose you… no matter what they had to say about it.”
The words didn’t just sting.
They burned.
They cut.
And with each one, something in her twisted tighter… until it splintered.
“He could’ve ended it all before it ever began,” Draevyn continued, his voice still low but unrelenting. “But he didn’t. He let them question you. Let them drag you through hell… to protect his image. His standing. His silence.”
She turned her face away, eyes stinging, throat tight with the cry she wouldn’t let out.
And when she finally spoke, her voice sounded like it had been dragged from the depths of something dying.
“Why do you insist on twisting the blade that’s already lodged inside my heart?”
Time paused with him.
One heartbeat passed.
Then another—
each second falling like a stone.
When he finally spoke, his voice was deeper, woven with something that didn’t just echo through the clearing, but seemed to settle there.
“You keep that blade lodged in your chest,” he said, “as if your heart belongs to him.”
His gaze locked with hers, steady and unflinching.
“But Kaelani… mine has belonged to you from the moment you first looked me in the eyes.”
She flinched like his words struck a nerve.
But he didn’t stop.
“If I could take that blade for you, I would,” he said, pulling her closer. “Every jagged inch. I would bury it in my own chest… just to give your heart a moment’s peace.”
His hand hovered near her cheek, not touching—waiting.
“You don’t owe me anything,” he added softly. “Not your love. Not your loyalty. But I need you to understand this—what I feel for you isn’t bound by instinct or fate. It’s not some ancient ball and chain pulling at my soul.”
A breath passed between them.
“It’s you. Just you.”
He didn’t look away.
“Perhaps,” he said gently, “my heart has belonged to you long before our eyes first met.”
Kaelani’s breath caught.
“The truth is… I’ve been waiting for you for fifteen hundred years.”
His voice cracked on the number—not from age, but from the weight of it.
“My heart has been empty,” he continued, “aching… longing for the one who was meant to stand beside me. Not beneath me, not behind me—but beside me. Equal. Eternal.”
He took a slow breath, eyes soft but burning with something ancient.
“I didn’t know your name. I didn’t know your face. But I knew the absence of you. I felt it—in every war I fought, every bed I left cold, every century that passed without meaning.”
His hand lowered now, brushing the air just near her arm—close enough to feel the heat between them.
“I don’t want to be your distraction,” he whispered. “I want to be your sanctuary. The one who doesn’t just see your darkness—but honors it. Protects it. Loves it.”
“Draevyn…”
Her voice was soft—barely a whisper suspended in the air, his name lingering like a secret on her lips.
But he reached out gently, pressing a finger to them before she could say more.
“Don’t,” he said, voice low and reverent. “Not yet.”
He leaned in.
And she didn’t pull away.
When their lips met, it was slow. Searching. His mouth brushed hers like a question—unhurried, aching, honest. One side of her felt the spell of it… the magnetic pull of warmth, the ache to be wanted this deeply. To melt into it, into him, into the safety he promised with every soft stroke of his hand along her waist.
But something else stirred inside her.
Dark. Wild. Brewing.
It clawed its way upward like steam in a sealed kettle—pressure mounting, sharp and sudden.
And then—snap.
Her canines extended. Her body jerked forward.
Before she could stop it, her wolf took over—and she bit.
Hard.
Draevyn recoiled, pulling back with a sharp inhale, his hand catching the edge of his bottom lip where blood now trickled freely.
Kaelani froze.
Mortified.
“I’m—oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she stammered, backing away as her hands trembled. “I didn’t… it wasn’t me. It was…”
His eyes met hers.
Deep. Knowing.
“I know,” he said softly.
Kaelani winced inwardly, retreating to the quiet space inside her mind where her wolf lingered like smoke.
“What the hell was that?” she snapped.
Her wolf only snickered, low and smug.
Draevyn pressed a thumb against the corner of his mouth, catching a drop of blood. His expression—unshaken, maybe even amused.
“I see,” he murmured, “it won’t be an easy feat—winning both of your hearts.”
He looked up, eyes gleaming. “But I’m always up for a challenge.”
Kaelani’s wolf gave a dismissive huff, her voice cool and sharp.
“Never yours.”
Draevyn’s voice was smooth and confident.
“There’s a place I’d like to show you tomorrow. It’s hidden deep in the Fae realm. Sacred. Beautiful. I’d be honored if you’d come with me. No masks. No obligations. Just you and me… if you’re willing to give me a chance.”
Her wolf stirred—unimpressed.
Kaelani heard the low rumble of a growl in the back of her mind, but she silenced it with a breath.
A soft smile curved her lips as she met his gaze.
“Of course. I’d love to.”
He nodded, almost like he hadn’t expected her to say yes. Then, after a beat,
“Shall we return to the celebration?”
Kaelani looked past him, toward the moon-drenched path winding back to the court.
“No… I think I’ll stay here a little while. Let the quiet settle. I’ll come back soon.”
He didn’t push.
“As you wish.”
And just like that, he slipped back into the trees—leaving only the fading echo of his presence behind.
Kaelani sat on the bench tucked beneath the sweeping alcove of vines. The air was still. Cool. Firelights drifted like embers in the dark, and above her, the stars blinked through drifting clouds.
She exhaled. Slowly.
“You don’t like him,” she said aloud—to the beast inside her.
Her wolf bristled. Not with anger… but resistance. A growl rippled beneath Kaelani’s ribs.
“I know.” Her voice was quiet. Bruised. “But he’s been kind. Gentle. Accepting of me from the beginning.”
The growl tapered off—but her wolf didn’t answer. Only listened, from somewhere deep inside.
Kaelani sighed, the weight of truth heavy in her chest.
“You hadn’t fully awakened yet, so you didn’t witness that morning. The one when our mate—” her voice cracked on the word, “—couldn’t even look me in the eye… and treated me like I was nothing but a liability to his perfect little life.”
She swallowed hard.
“I’ve never admitted this to anyone. Not even to myself. But to you… I’ll say it.
It hurt.
Gods, it hurt.”
Her eyes glistened as she lifted them to the sky.
“It shattered something in me I didn’t know could break. Because for the first time in my life… I thought I was finally enough. That someone… needed me just as much as I needed them.”
Her hands curled into fists.
“But he didn’t choose me. He chose silence. Reputation. Fear.”
Her voice trembled like wind through leaves.
“And in that moment… whatever hope I had left in love—”
She hesitated. Then whispered:
“It died.”
Her wolf whimpered, feeling the ache that echoed through Kaelani’s chest like it was that morning all over again—the moment everything cracked, when hope crumbled and pain took root.
Kaelani closed her eyes, breathing through it.
A long silence stretched between them. Not empty—but heavy. Shared.
Then Kaelani spoke again—quietly, gently.
“I think I owe it to myself… to try. To give Draevyn a chance.”
She paused, pressing her palm over her heart.
“Maybe… maybe you can try too?”
Her wolf didn’t growl this time.
Didn’t argue.
Just whimpered once more—low and mournful—before curling inward like a creature too tired to fight. She didn’t agree. But she didn’t resist either. She simply lay still… subdued by the weight of Kaelani’s lifelong pain and the desire not to deepen it.
Kaelani gave a sad smile—barely there—as her gaze lifted back to the sky.
The twin moons hung high above, glowing like soulmates untouched by time. A perfect pair.
Bound. Eternal.
“I’m doing the right thing…” she said softly, almost as if saying it aloud would make it feel true.
Her voice wavered.
“…Aren’t I?”