Chapter 22 THE RETURN OF MY WOLF.

Chapter 22 THE RETURN OF MY WOLF.


Seren’s POV

I was tucked into Draven’s side, the fire in the hearth was just a pile of orange embers, and the room smelled like the best parts of him—expensive soap and that dark, heavy musk that made my stomach flip.

It was perfect. It was a dream.

And then, the dream turned into a nightmare.

It started as a flicker. A cold, sharp itch deep in my marrow. It didn't feel like a memory; it felt like something inside me was waking up, and it didn't recognize the body it was living in.

My breath hitched. My heart, which had been beating so steadily against Draven’s, suddenly went wild.

Get out. The thought wasn't mine. It was a low, vibrating growl that echoed in the back of my skull. 

It was a stranger in my skin, and it was pissed off.

"Seren?"

Draven moved before I could even gasp. He sat up, his hands catching my shoulders. His eyes were instantly gold, searching mine with a focus so deep it felt like a physical touch. "What is it? Talk to me."

"I... I don't know," I choked out. I clutched at my chest, my nails digging into the skin over my heart. "There’s something inside me, Draven. It’s moving. It feels like... like a beast."

The feeling grew. It wasn't just a shiver anymore; I felt the terrifying urge to snarl. 

"Make it stop," I wheezed. I pushed his hands away, scrambling toward the edge of the bed. 

I felt like I was suffocating. My skin felt too tight, like it was going to split open. "Draven, she’s trying to bite her way out!"

A growl ripped through my throat—a sound so deep  it couldn't have come from a girl.

"Seren, look at me!"

"No!" I fell to the floor, my knees hitting the rug hard. I curled into a ball, my hands covering my ears to block out the howling in my head.

I hated it. I hated the feeling of claws behind my eyes. I hated that I wasn't in control. I felt like a monster. I felt like the thing people in the Wards whispered about when they wanted to scare their children.

"Get away from me," I cried. "I’ll hurt you. I feel her... she wants blood."

"Then she can have mine."

Draven was on the floor with me in an instant. He didn't give me the space I asked for. He didn't care about the danger. He wrapped his massive body around me, pinning my arms to my sides, caging me in his arms.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed, struggling against him. My fingernails felt sharp, my teeth aching with the need to sink into something.

"I am the King, Seren," he rasped, his voice vibrating against my spine. It wasn't an arrogant statement; it was a fact. "I am your Alpha. There is nothing your wolf can do that I haven't seen before. Let her roar. I'm not going anywhere."

He began to pulse his power—a warm pressure that flooded the room. It felt like a blanket. He was trying to soothe the wild thing inside me with the  force of his own soul.

I fought him. I bucked and snarled, my head thrashing. 

I felt so much rage. I felt the violation of being forgotten, the terror of the needles, and the confusion of loving a man I didn't remember.

"Let it out," Draven whispered. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his scent of cedar and rain filling my lungs. "Give me the fire, little bird. I can hold it for you."

I sobbed, the sound breaking through the growls. 

The thing inside me was thrashing, clawing at the walls of my mind. I felt my bones groan, a dull, grinding ache that made me dizzy.

"I'm scared," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I don't know who I am when she’s here."

"You’re mine," Draven said, his voice a lethal promise. "That’s all you ever need to be. Just breathe. Match me, Seren. Follow my lead."

He started to breathe in a heavy, rhythmic pattern. In. Out. In. Out.

I tried. Every time the wolf lunged, Draven’s arms tightened. Every time she bared her teeth, he whispered possessive, dark things into my ear. He was my anchor. 

He sat there on the floor for what felt like hours, holding me while I shook and cried, refusing to let the darkness take me over.

Slowly, the scratching stopped.

The wolf didn't leave, but she grew quiet. She curled up in the corner of my mind, exhausted. The ice-cold shiver turned into a soft warmth.

I went limp in his arms, my head falling back against his shoulder. My skin felt raw, my body tired.

"She's quiet," I whispered. My voice was a wreck.

Draven kissed my temple, his grip on me finally loosening just a fraction. 

He was covered in sweat, his own breath ragged. "She knows you’re safe. She just had to find her way home."

He picked me up and carried me back to the bed. 

He didn't put me on my side of the mattress. He laid me down and then climbed in behind me, wrapping himself around me like a shield. His hands stayed over mine, our fingers interlaced.

"Is it always going to be like this?" I asked, staring at the shadows on the ceiling.

"No," Draven answered. "You’ll learn to dance with her again. And until you do, I’ll be the one to hold the floor."

I closed my eyes. The wolf was a stranger, a ghost I had to live with every day. It was terrifying to know I wasn't just a girl.

But as Draven pulled the duvet over us, his heart beating a steady rhythm against my back, I realized I didn't have to be perfect. I just had to be his.

The wolf inside me didn't growl this time. She just settled into the warmth he provided. And for the first time since the spire, I didn't feel like a victim.

I felt like a Queen with a King who was even more dangerous than the beast in her head.

"Sleep," he whispered. "I've got you, Seren. Always."