[Elara's POV]
When I woke up, I felt as if I'd been trampled by a stampeding griffin. A deep, aching exhaustion permeated every muscle. My clothes were soaked with sweat, clinging uncomfortably to my skin.
I wiggled my fingers, realizing I was lying in a soft, comfortable bed. The room was unfamiliar, the air filled with the calming scent of vervain.
This had to be one of the Temple's healing chambers.
I remembered the Wolfsbane kicking in with full force in Malachi's vehicle, and then… nothing. It seemed he had, in fact, kept his word and brought me to the Temple.
"You're awake."
A cool voice spoke from the side of the room.
I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat as I whipped my head around.
Malachi.
He was still here.
He was seated in a plush armchair not far from the bed, his legs crossed elegantly, an ancient-looking tome resting in his hands. The moonlight streaming through the window cast a silver sheen on his inhumanly beautiful face, making him look like a cold, marble statue.
"What are you doing here?" My voice was hoarse from sleep.
He closed the book, his deep violet eyes fixing on me. "I brought you to the Temple. You were not awake. So I waited."
He said it as if it were the most logical thing in the world.
My mind struggled to catch up. I tried to piece together the events before I passed out. His outrageous proposition in the vehicle, my final act of resistance…
"How long was I asleep?" I asked, mentally taking stock of my body. The maddening heat was gone. Aside from a lingering weakness, I felt fine. The poison had worked its way out of my system.
"Eighteen hours," he replied.
"What?" I stared at him. Eighteen hours? I looked at his face, which showed no signs of fatigue. "And you…?"
"I have been here for eighteen hours as well," he said, a subtle, almost imperceptible note of… pride?… in his voice. As if he were expecting a reward.
"So, shouldn't you be thanking me?"
"…" I was at a complete loss for words.
We weren't even friends, yet he had sat vigil in my room for eighteen hours straight. His logic operated on a plane entirely separate from that of any normal wolf. The rumors about him being a madman were clearly not exaggerated.
"Well?" He arched a perfect eyebrow, still waiting.
"…Thank you," I finally bit out. Whatever his motives, he had helped me.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door. A shaman's acolyte entered and, after confirming my recovery, informed me I was free to leave.
The gown I had been wearing was torn from the fight with the Rogues and now soaked with sweat. It was unwearable.
As I was wondering what to do, Malachi seemed to read my mind.
"Alfred has made arrangements," he said simply.
A few moments later, the butler entered carrying several bags from high-end boutiques and placed them respectfully by my bed.
"Miss Elara, the King has prepared some clothing for you."
I glanced inside. A complete set of attire, from undergarments to outerwear, shoes to accessories—all of it exquisitely made and astronomically expensive.
"No, thank you. This is too much," I refused immediately. I didn't want any more unnecessary entanglements with him.
"It's merely a few articles of clothing," Malachi's tone was dismissive and final. "Or would you prefer to walk out of here in those filthy rags?"
I relented.
I went into the adjoining washroom and changed. The clothes fit perfectly. A chill went down my spine. How did he know my size?
When I emerged, Malachi was still sitting there, apparently with no intention of leaving.
"By the way," I remembered the Silvermoon Codex, "Your Majesty, the book you gave me is far too valuable. I cannot accept it. I will have a courier return it to your castle as soon as I am able."
"I do not take back my gifts," his eyes darkened slightly.
"But it's inappropriate," I insisted. That book was worth a small Pack. I couldn't just accept it.
He studied me for a moment, as if gauging my resolve.
Finally, he gave a slow nod. "Very well."
I breathed a sigh of relief, which was cut short by his next words.
"However, do not send a messenger. I gave it to you in person. You will return it to me in person."
"Fine, then today I'll—"
"I will let you know when it is time," he stated, seizing control of the situation once more.
I was floored. So I had to return it on his schedule? Did this man's need for control know no bounds?
I clutched my small, damaged handbag and left the healing chamber. As I was about to leave the Temple, my communication crystal, having regained some charge, powered on. It immediately began to vibrate violently in my hand, a flood of missed calls and messages pouring in. Most were from Liana, a few from the Enforcers, and even several from Kaelen.
Before I could even check them, a familiar number called again.
Liana.
I answered instantly. Her frantic voice exploded in my ear. "Goddess above! You finally answered! Do you have any idea how worried I've been? That mad king took you, and then you just disappeared! He didn't do anything to you, did he?"
"No, he just brought me to the Temple," I explained briefly. "The Wolfsbane was a problem, but I'm fine now."
Liana let out a huge sigh of relief. "Where are you? Are you leaving the Temple?"
"Yes, I'm on my way out now."
"Good! Don't move! I'm almost there! I'm bringing backup!" She hung up.
Backup?
I walked to the Temple entrance, confused. A few minutes later, Liana's flashy red Magi-tech vehicle screeched to a halt in front of me. She jumped out of the driver's seat.
Another figure emerged from the passenger side: a tall, powerfully built young man in a tactical Northern uniform. He had short black hair, sharp features, and an aura of command that was impossible to ignore.
Three years. The boy who had once followed me around, still with a touch of youthful awkwardness, was now a man.
Ethan.
Ethan Northwind.
The moment he saw me, his obsidian-dark eyes churned with a storm of pain, rage, and a regret so deep it felt soul-crushing.
Before I could even process it, he closed the distance between us in two long strides and pulled me into a crushing embrace. His arms were like steel bands, as if he wanted to fuse me into his very bones.
"Elara…" His voice was a ragged, trembling whisper against my ear. "…Sis."
I froze for a heartbeat.
That name… Sis.
It had been so long since anyone had called me that. After my parents' death and my brother's disappearance, he was the only one in the world who called me by that name, his voice always laced with a fierce, dependent affection.
He was Ethan Northwind, the only son of the Alpha of the Northwind Alliance. And he had been the most talented, most troublesome subordinate I had ever trained back in the Silvermoon Clan's elite academy.
I looked up at his face, now all sharp angles and lean planes. The boyish features I remembered had been carved by time into the hard, commanding visage of a leader. He smelled of the northern blizzards—cold, clean, with a faint hint of pine.
The hug was so tight I could barely breathe.
"Ethan," I patted his solid back. "I can't breathe."
He jerked back as if waking from a dream, but his hands remained clamped on my shoulders, his dark eyes scanning me from head to toe, searching for any sign of harm.
"And you can thank him for that!" Liana said, looking exhausted. "He found out what happened, couldn't reach you, and showed up at my door like a madman. If you hadn't answered, I think he was about to mobilize the entire Northern Guard to storm the Temple!"
A faint, bitter smile touched my lips. The scandal at the gala had spread like wildfire. It was no surprise that Ethan had heard.
"I'm fine," I said again, patting his arm to reassure him. But he wouldn't let go.
"I'm covered in sweat. I haven't showered. Let go, you're disgusting," I insisted, trying to lighten the mood.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was last night?" his voice was a low growl, thick with suppressed rage. "How much I hate myself for not realizing what you were planning with Kaelen Blackwood back then?"
"If I had just stopped you, before you accepted his mark, none of this would have happened…"
His voice trailed off.
A wave of bitterness washed over me. If only. I wished I had never mated with Kaelen either.
Just then, a loud growl echoed from my stomach.
"You're hungry?" Ethan's focus finally shifted. He released my shoulders.
"Starving," I admitted. I hadn't eaten since the previous afternoon.
"Alright, alright! Since our heroine is safe and sound, let's go find a place to eat and celebrate!" Liana declared.
We all got into the car, and the flashy red vehicle pulled away from the Temple.
Not far away, hidden in the shadows, a black vehicle remained parked. Malachi's gaze followed us until we disappeared from sight. When he saw that other man pull me into that desperate embrace, a flicker of something he didn't recognize—a sharp, possessive displeasure—stirred within him.
It was the feeling of a prized, interesting toy about to be snatched away by another.
Malachi looked down at his right hand. Just yesterday, it had held her wrist, feeling that incredible, burning heat. He slowly clenched his fist.
The things he wanted, he never shared.