Lara threw off the covers. Every muscle in her body ached, but she welcomed the pain. It meant she was still alive.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and placed her feet on the cold stone floor. She felt the chills run up her body. Her knees shook, but she grabbed the bedpost and held on until her head stopped spinning.
The room was quiet. The healer had gone out, maybe to get more herbs to prepare the strange mixture he had been preparing. She took one slow step forward, then another.
The room was large and made of old stone. It felt strong but also beautiful. A big fireplace filled one wall, its fire casting warm light across the space. The rugs were soft and thick, and fur blankets lay across the floor.
Lara walked to the window. The heavy curtains were pulled halfway, letting in the sunlight that spread across the stone floor.
She looked out of the window and the sight took her breath away.
Outside, the kingdom of Vargorath stretched across the mountainside. Its black towers rose high, flying red banners. Below, messengers ran, and riders on horses raced through the gates. Beyond the walls, a wide forest and river led to the misty mountains. It wasn't just a view, it was a kingdom full of strength and life.
Lara turned away from the window as the door creaked open. The older man stepped in and
His eyes landed on Lara.
"You're supposed to be in bed," he grumbled, crossing the room without waiting for a reply.
Lara turned slowly.
"I needed air," she said.
"You need rest," he snapped, not unkindly. "You almost died. Twice. Once from your wounds, and once from the fever. And now you're standing there like a ghost princess staring out a window."
Lara almost found it funny, she watched as the healer set his satchel down with a huff.
"Stubborn forest girls," he muttered, unpacking jars and herbs. "No sense of recovery, no idea what sleep is."
"Are all your patients this unwelcome?" she asked coolly.
"Only the ones who think standing upright means they're cured."
He took her wrist, fingers surprisingly warm and gentle against her skin as he checked her pulse.
"Hmph. Still weak. You're lucky the King got to you when he did."
At the mention of the King, her heart skipped a beat. He turned back to his herbs.
"Now bed," he said. "Before I sedate you and have the guards carry you to it."
Lara blinked. "You're serious."
"Oh, very."
With a sigh, Lara padded back to the bed and slipped under the furs.
"Thank you," she murmured.
"Don't thank me yet. You'll hate the tea."
Great, she groaned inwardly.
A little while later, the door shut behind the healer with a loud click, and silence settled like a veil.
Lara stared out the window as she lay on the bed. Her body still ached, like she'd been torn apart and sewn back together, but she ignored it. There was a full moon outside, it made her miss being outside.
Suddenly the door creaked open again. Thornak stepped into the room, and the scent hit him first, wildflowers, just before he saw her. She was on the bed, her golden hair falling over her bare shoulders.
His wolf, Jax couldn't control himself. He almost pounced on her there and then.
Mine. Jax growled.
She blinked at him surprised. Her lips parted, whether to speak or breathe, he didn't know. All he knew was that if she stood up, if she moved toward him, he might not be able to stop himself.
He cleared his throat. "You're awake."
She moved to sit up, but he raised a hand. "Don't. You're still healing."
She obeyed. "Y-yes, Your Majesty."
Her heart pounded in her chest. She had never seen a Lycan before, not in person, and now one stood before her. The Lycan King himself. And he was staring right at her.
Something in her gut twisted.
Thornak was confused. All he wanted, no, needed, was to pull her close, crush her against his chest, and claim her as his. To sink his mark into her skin and make the world know she belonged to him. Jax growled at the thought.
But she hadn't felt it. Not the bond. Not the pull. Not him.
What in the hell was wrong?
His eyes, never left her. Watching. Waiting. A flicker of recognition, a hint of connection. But she gave him nothing. And the silence between them was deafening.
His eyes never left her. He kept watching and waiting, like he was holding his breath for something from her. It was like he hoped to see a reaction on her face, like a sign that she knew him, or felt something too. But she gave him nothing. No look, no word. Just silence.
She was beautiful, there was no denying it. Her blue eyes and golden curly hair, he had never seen anyone with such beauty. It made him want to take her in his arms and...
"Thank you for saving my life." She cut through his thoughts.
He moved to the chair by the bed, lowering himself with slow precision, as though unsure whether getting closer would calm her... or unravel them both.
"You were unconscious for two days," Thorn said. "Your wounds were... severe. I need you to answer me honestly because I will find out if you lie to me."
She nodded.
He moved closer, and Lara instinctively pushed back on the bed.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, more quietly this time.
"I know," she whispered, though she wasn't sure she truly did. But something about his presence, it didn't just frighten her. It stirred something warmer and stranger.
"What is your name? And where did you come from?"
"Lara Abdel." She responded. "I'm from a small village… south of Darkpine ridge"
He leaned forward. "You said you're from a village south of Darkpine Ridge?"
Lara nodded slowly, clutching the edge of her blanket. "Yes."
His brow furrowed. "That's a human village. You are a werewolf."
She flinched at the edge in his voice. "I know. My... my parents are traders so we move around a lot."
"No pack? No training?" Thornak's eyes blazed like twin suns. The warmth from the hearth was nothing compared to the heat radiating off him now. He stepped closer, his voice low yet commanding. "You fight better than some of my soldiers," he said. "Do not lie to me."
Lara tensed where she lay, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I told you the truth."
"You expect me to believe a girl raised in a human village fought off full grown rogues with nothing but a sword and instinct?"
"I didn't have a choice," she shot back. "They would've taken me if I hadn't."
"That's not an answer." His voice rumbled with authority, but there was something else beneath it, curiosity, maybe even concern.
She hesitated, biting her lip. Her heart pounded.
Lara looked down at her hands. "My father, he used to be a warrior. He served in the border militias during the last rogue uprisings before he left it all behind. He taught me how to fight."
Thornak's brows drew together, suspicion flickering in his golden gaze.