chapter 28
Ferial barely felt her grandparents’ arms around her as the room emptied.
The echoes of wolf orders thundered down the hallway, boots and claws alike pounding in frantic rhythm.
Something was happening outside—unrest, maybe worse—but all she could feel was the hollow, smothering ache inside her chest.
Her grandmother kept whispering her name over and over, but the words felt far away, muffled behind the roaring in her ears. Her grandfather guided her to the chair near the wall, lowering her carefully as if she were made of glass.
She wasn’t glass. She was already shattered.
Her grandmother knelt in front of her, clasping her hands. “look at me.” But Ferial couldn’t. Her gaze was fixed on the door where the wolves had disappeared, as if the ground had swallowed her fate in their wake.
Her grandfather exhaled shakily. “We need to get her home. Before the patrols decide something else.”
But before they could stand, the door swung open again. Abdie burst in, breathless, sweat-soaked, held back only by one exhausted patrol wolf. “Fer! Fer, are you okay? What did they do to you? What did they say? Why are you crying?”
Ferial’s chest tightened. “Abdie…”
He shrugged off the guard and rushed to her side, ignoring her grandparents’ warning looks. “Fer, tell me what they said. Don’t let them twist your mind. I won’t let them control you.”
Her grandfather stiffened. “Abdie. Stand back, please.”
“No,” Abdie fired back without hesitation. “Not until she tells me what happened.”
Ferial swallowed, her throat thick and burning. “Abdie… I’m…” She tried to say it, the impossible truth, but the words tangled painfully on her tongue.
Her grandmother looked at Abdie with tearful sympathy. “It’s… complicated.”
“What does that even mean?” Abdie snapped. “Did they accuse her of something? Threaten her? Did the heir say something? He looked like he wanted to skin me alive!”
Ferial shook her head, feeling more tears gather. “It’s not that. He said—he said I’m—”
Footsteps approached, heavy, deliberate. The air shifted.
The Alpha heir appeared in the doorway.
His clothes were dusted with the grey powder of the factory yard. His jaw clenched in barely contained fury. Two patrol wolves flanked him like shadows, tense and alert.
Abdie stepped in front of Ferial instinctively. “No. Not again. Leave her alone.”
The Alpha heir didn’t snarl this time. He didn’t show his teeth or flare his aura. Instead, he stared at Abdie with a tiredness that looked foreign on him.
“You’re becoming a problem,” he said simply.
“Good,” Abdie said, voice steady despite the tremor beneath. “Then you understand that I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be.”
“You think fear is going to stop me?” Abdie challenged. “She’s human. She’s MY people. You can’t just claim her.”
The Alpha heir’s eyes flashed dangerously, but he reined it in with visible force. “I am not asking for your understanding.”
“Then what are you asking for?”
“Control,” the heir answered, voice cool. “Over myself. Over this situation. Over the chaos your touch causes in her.”
Abdie froze. Ferial’s breath caught.
The heir looked at Ferial, and something raw flickered there—something almost vulnerable. “We need to talk. Alone.”
“No,” her grandfather snapped. “She is NOT going anywhere alone with you again.”
The heir finally broke his stare from Ferial and looked directly at her grandparents, patience thinning. “Her emotions are bleeding over onto me. When she panics, I lose control. When she’s hurt, I feel it. If she spirals again, it will end very badly for both humans and wolves.”
Abdie scoffed. “So what—you’re saying she’s a bomb you can’t handle?”
“Yes,” the heir said without hesitation. “And I won’t let her explode.”
That stunned the entire room into silence.
Ferial felt her hands tremble. “What do you want from me?”
His jaw ticked. “I want clarity. Answers. Control. I want to know why the bond feels like it’s tearing me apart.”
Her grandfather moved in front of her again. “She is NOT going anywhere near the Capital. If you try to take her—”
“You think I don’t know the risk?” the heir interrupted. “Humans don’t survive the claiming bond unless the conditions are perfect. I’ve read every record. Every case. I came here because distance was killing her.”
Ferial’s breath hitched. “Killing me?”
“Yes,” he said, voice harsh with honesty. “I felt you slipping. Like your emotions were collapsing inward. If the bond isn’t stabilized, it can—”
He stopped, the words lodged somewhere deep and dark.
Her grandmother whispered, “It can kill them both.”
The heir didn’t deny it.
Outside, loud shouts erupted—wolves calling orders, humans yelling, the clang of metal hitting metal. Patrols were pushing workers back, forming tight lines. Something was spiraling beyond the walls.
The Alpha heir glanced toward the noise, then back at Ferial. “We don’t have time. The unrest outside is worsening. Humans are gathering in groups. Wolves are tightening borders. They’re afraid. And when wolves are afraid, they strike.”
Her chest tightened painfully. “What does that have to do with me?”
“Everything,” he said.
Then Captain Rian appeared at the door, breathless. “Alpha! The Supreme is calling for immediate lockdown on all human districts. A riot broke out at the northern checkpoint.”
Ferial felt her skin go cold.
Her grandmother clutched her arm. “We need to go home. NOW.”
But Captain Rian shook his head at them. “Humans aren’t allowed to leave the industrial quarter until further notice. Orders from the Supreme.”
“What?” her grandfather barked. “We live in District Twelve! We have RIGHTS—”
“You have rules,” Captain Rian corrected stiffly. “And right now, all humans stay contained.”
Abdie swore under his breath. “So they’re trapping us.”
“For your protection,” the heir said, though even he didn’t sound convinced.
Ferial stood slowly, legs trembling. “Abdie… go with my grandparents. Don’t fight them. Please.”
“No,” Abdie said instantly. “I’m staying with you.”
“Abdie,” she whispered, voice breaking. “You can’t protect me from this.”
Her friend stared at her, shattered, but he finally nodded once, jaw clenched. “If he hurts you, I swear—”
“He won’t,” she said softly, though she wasn’t sure if it was true.
The heir stepped aside, letting Abdie and her grandparents leave. For a moment Abdie paused in the doorway and looked back.
“Fer… don’t let him decide who you are.”
She wanted to promise him she wouldn’t.
But she didn’t know if she could.
When the door closed again, the Alpha heir turned to her, the walls suddenly too quiet.
“Ferial,” he said softly, “you and I need to talk.”
She met his eyes—those burning, impossible eyes—and her voice came out as a whisper.
“Then talk.”
He took one step closer.
And for the first time since meeting him…
He looked afraid.
“We’re running out of time.”