The tension in the war chamber was thick, an oppressive force pressing down on Draven as the council members stood before him. Their faces were a mixture of expectation and suspicion. He could feel their eyes boring into him, waiting for answers—demanding them.
Diana sat on his chair, her posture poised, her expression carefully composed.
One of the elders, a broad-shouldered man with streaks of silver in his beard, stepped forward. “The pack deserves to know, Alpha.” His voice was gruff, unwavering. “Who is she?”
Draven stood at the head of the war table, his fingers curled into fists by his side. His expression remained impassive, but beneath the surface, he calculated every possible move.
Before he could answer, Diana spoke.
“Draven hasn’t told me,” she said smoothly. “Not yet.”
The room fell into stunned silence.
Draven’s jaw clenched. Relief settled in his chest, but so did suspicion.
***Why is she lying for me?***
The elder frowned. “You expect us to believe that?”
Diana tilted her chin up, her voice unwavering. “Believe what you will. My son has always been a private man.”
The other council members murmured among themselves, but one spoke louder than the rest. “If he refuses to tell his own mother, then let him tell us.”
Draven exhaled sharply. “I don't know how my mother found out. But I didn't say anything because now is not the time for this discussion.” His voice carried over the room, firm, decisive. “With the vampires threatening our borders and the war escalating, I have more pressing matters to deal with.”
A murmur rippled through the council.
“But surely,” another elder pressed, “if the bond is real—”
“I will announce it when I see fit,” Draven cut him off. His patience was razor-thin. “Until then, this conversation is over.”
Silence.
He let it stretch, asserting dominance, making sure there was no room for argument. Then he inclined his head toward the door.
“You’re all dismissed.”
One by one, the elders bowed and departed, though not without reluctant glances exchanged between them.
Cyrus lingered for a moment, his green eyes flicking toward Draven, a silent question hanging between them. But Draven gave a subtle nod—a command to leave.
The doors shut behind him.
Now, it was just him and Diana.
Draven turned, his movements slow, deliberate. His mother remained standing at the head of the table, her hands folded before her. She had been waiting for this moment.
He strode toward her and, without hesitation, ripped the letter from her grasp.
Diana said nothing.
She merely turned her head, her eyes locking onto his.
Then she moved.
Her palm swung toward his face.
Draven caught her wrist mid-air.
Their eyes met, sharp and unyielding.
Her nostrils flared as her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. “How dare you,” she seethed.
Draven’s grip tightened before he let go of her hand, causing her to stumble slightly.
“How could you?” she hissed. “The vampire princess? That’s who you’ve been hiding? That’s who you’ve bound yourself to?”
Draven’s jaw clenched. He refused to look away. “I did what I had to do.”
“No, you didn’t,” Diana snapped. “You didn’t have to do anything. You could have let her die. Instead, you ran to Valerion like a dog the moment you got that letter.” Her voice dripped with venom. “What are you now, Draven? A servant to the vampires? Do they command, and you roll over?”
Draven’s patience snapped. He slammed his fist onto the table, rattling the heavy wood. **“DO NOT SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT!”** he roared. **“I AM YOUR ALPHA!”**
**“And I am your mother!”** she shot back, her voice shaking, her body trembling with emotion. “Do you even understand what you’ve done?”
Silence swallowed them whole, the tension crackling between them like a storm about to break.
Diana’s breath came shallow, uneven. When she spoke again, her voice had lost its sharp edges, replaced by something far more fragile.
“They’ll kill you, Draven,” she whispered.
Draven stiffened.
Diana’s shoulders sagged. “Do you know what the pack will do if they find out what you did? If they learn that you’re mated to a vampire?” She swallowed hard, her voice breaking. “They left your brother half-dead. Your father went to finish him off, but Eros fought back.” Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. “The both of them died that day.”
A thick silence stretched between them.
Then she broke.
Her voice cracked. Her walls crumbled.
“I can’t afford to lose another,” she choked out, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She cupped Draven’s cheek, her fingers trembling against his skin. “Not you.”
Draven stood frozen, his heart twisting in his chest.
She grasped his hands, her desperation spilling over. “Promise me… Promise me that you’ll never see her again. That you’ll never contact her again.”
Draven inhaled sharply, his throat constricting. He had faced countless battles, had endured pain beyond reckoning—but nothing felt as crushing as this moment.
“No, Mother.” His voice was hoarse, but firm. “She’s my mate. I—”
**“NO!”** Diana sobbed, shaking her head violently. “She’s not your mate! Stop saying that!”
She took a shaky breath, trying to collect herself.
“This is the second time this has happened in our family,” she murmured. “I don’t know if the gods have cursed our bloodline, but if the pack finds out…” Her eyes darkened with something far worse than anger—fear. “They might think something is wrong with us. They might decide to overthrow us. To kill us.”
Draven said nothing, his throat tightening.
Diana clutched his arms. “Even if you don’t care what happens to me, think about Jason and Kara.” Her voice broke. “They’re still so young. Your brother and sister deserve to live, Draven.”
Draven exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. “Mother, I—”
“You don’t have to worry,” she whispered, stepping back. “I can fix this.”
Draven’s stomach twisted. “How?”
Diana lifted her chin, her expression unreadable.
“I found someone else.”
Draven’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Her lips parted.
“I found you a new mate.”