Chapter 4 #2
The forest hushed. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
She didn’t just stand her ground. She saw him.
Not the predator, or the wolf. But the man beneath the mask.
And that terrified him more than any blade, because fear he could command, lust he could twist, but being seen?
That was a kind of power he couldn’t control.
Something twisted in his chest—desire, guilt, fury, all bruised under restraint. He stepped back like he’d been burned, fists curling at his sides, jaw clenched tight. His golden eyes flared, then dimmed.
“You’re lucky,” he muttered. “I’m not in the mood to prove a point today.”
Eris closed her eyes and exhaled, relieved.
He had listened. When she opened them, something had shifted.
The leaves stirred. Birds called again, slow, delayed, as if they’d been waiting on her.
Kareon’s frown deepened. The change came too quickly.
His gaze swept the canopy, instincts prickling.
Not fear—something deeper. Recognition, maybe.
He shook it off. But the feeling stayed, like a whisper that hadn’t finished speaking.
Eris moved, tightening the loosened strings of her corset. Her fingers trembled, but her voice was steady.
“Why are you here, Kareon?”
His attention snapped back. The control wrapped tight again.
“Bellara told me what you did for her.” His tone was unreadable. “Why?”
Eris hesitated. He looked at her like he was dissecting her from the inside out. She was used to being watched, not understood. That kind of gaze felt like exposure. And that scared her.
What would he do with her softness, if he saw it? Would he twist it? Use it?
“Because I couldn’t stand there and do nothing,” she said finally. “I refuse to be silent anymore. Is that something you wouldn’t understand?”
Kareon’s jaw flexed. His golden gaze held hers, hard.
She shouldn’t exist like this. Not in his world.
A Firstblood princess, risking public scorn for a Lycan girl.
Her eyes shimmered with conviction. Unflinching.
Real. It rattled him more than he cared to admit.
So he arched a brow, let the edge of a smirk curve his mouth.
A shield more than a smile. His voice dipped, mockery worn like armor.
“So that’s it?” he said, tone too casual to be honest. “The Dragov princess playing hero. You think kindness changes anything?”
Eris’s expression hardened. “I don’t play at anything.”
“Oh?” Kareon stepped closer again, the wolf back in his eyes. “Then tell me… does golden boy know about your little rebellion?” His mouth curved, wicked. “Bet he’d be thrilled.”
Her jaw locked. “Leave Stephan out of this,” she said, sharp. “You know nothing of the burdens he carries. For my family. For the Firstbloods. Spare him your petty remarks.”
Kareon’s chuckle was humorless. “Fair enough.”
He turned to her mare, brushing the animal’s muzzle. The horse shifted, uneasy. It knew what he was. But Kareon barely noticed. Kaelioth’s words echoed.
Eris Dragov could be the hope we’ve waited for.
He didn’t believe in hope. He believed in survival. But Kaelioth had raised him when no one else would. And if the shaman believed she was more, then Kareon had to know.
He told himself he was here out of duty, to gauge her usefulness.
But it wasn’t just that, and he knew it.
Something about her pulled at instincts he’d spent years learning to ignore.
It made him reckless. And that unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.
He needed to know what kind of creature she truly was.
A symbol, a threat, or something else entirely.
Something that could change everything. He turned back to her.
“Tell me, princess…” His voice curled like smoke.
“Haven’t you ever wondered why you’re different?
” Eris froze. “Why you don’t quite belong?
” he continued. “Why you hear and feel things no one else can?” Her breath hitched.
He stepped closer, deliberate. “You want the truth? Then meet the pack shaman.”
Her stomach twisted. “Your shaman?” she asked warily.
Kareon’s smirk flicked. “You want answers, don’t you? Then stop running from them.”
Her pulse pounded. She could hear Stephan’s voice, like a phantom at her shoulder: Stay away from them. From him.
But what if he was wrong? What if the Lycans weren’t the monsters she’d been taught to fear? What if the pack shaman held answers, not just to the whispers that haunted her, but to something greater?
If there was a way to unravel what the kingdom had become, to open its eyes, to tear down the old lies, maybe this was it. Maybe she didn’t just want to belong. Maybe she wanted to break the world open and build something better. She drew a slow breath.
“I’ll go.”
Kareon’s smirk remained, but something sharper flickered in his eyes. Without a word, he swung onto her mare and extended a hand.
“Don’t worry, princess,” he said, pausing just long enough. “I don’t bite.” His smile was brief. Mocking. “Not today.”
She stared at his hand, heart thundering.
Her family had always called her reckless.
Maybe they were right. But she needed to see where this led.
She took it. A jolt passed through her. He pulled her up behind him.
The closeness became inevitable. Her arms circled his waist, practical at first. Then less so.
The scent of pine and storm clung to him.
It should’ve felt foreign. But it didn’t. Not entirely.
She didn’t speak. He didn’t let go. And as the forest swallowed them whole, Eris realized: she was no longer just a princess. No longer silenced. With every hoofbeat, every breath of wind, something inside her woke. Alive, dangerous, and free.