DRAVEN
A week had passed since the kiss. Seven days. And still, it hadn't left me.
The memory came back when I was alone, when I was angry, when I was trying to forget. I had kissed her. More than that, I had wanted to lose myself in her. And the worst part? I still did.
None of it made sense. She didn't make sense. I had spent years building walls thick enough to keep even the gods out. But Elara...
she was slipping past them like water through cracked stone.
Every part of her unsettled me. She moved through the pack like she belonged here. The warriors respected her. The healers trusted her.
Even the children looked at her like she was already part of their world.
And then there was Lyria. My sister, broken and unreachable, had become her concern. Not out of duty, but choice. That was the most dangerous part of all.
