The sound that woke Elara wasn't loud—it was the faint scrape of a chair leg on stone.
Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the darkness. The candles had long since burned out, but the moonlight slipping between the curtains painted the room in silver and shadow.
She sat up slowly, her pulse quickening.
There, in the far corner, was a figure. Still. Watching.
Her voice was a whisper. "Adrian?"
The shadows shifted, and the golden gleam of his eyes broke the dark.
He didn't move toward her. Didn't speak for a long, stretched moment. Then—
"You talk in your sleep," he said quietly.
A chill slid down her spine. "What?"
His gaze was unreadable. "You said… they can't take the moon from me."
Her heart stuttered. She didn't remember dreaming, didn't remember saying anything—but the words sounded like they came from somewhere deep inside her. Somewhere not entirely hers.
She swallowed hard. "It was just a dream."
"No," he said, his tone too certain, too sharp. "That wasn't a dream. That was something else."
She pulled the blanket around herself like armor. "Why are you sitting in the dark, watching me?"
"Because there's something hunting you," he said simply. "And because the things you say in your sleep are the kinds of things that get people killed if the wrong ears hear them."
Her pulse raced. "You're not making sense—"
He was already moving, slow and deliberate, crossing the space between them. The moonlight caught on the sharp angles of his face, the predator in his movements impossible to ignore.
When he reached the edge of the bed, he didn't sit. He loomed—close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him.
"You're not just some human I happened to stumble across," he said, voice low, almost a growl. "I can smell it. There's… power in you. Old. Ancient. Buried so deep you don't even realize it's there."
Her breath caught. "You sound insane."
"Maybe," he said. "Or maybe I'm the only one telling you the truth."
For a moment, the only sound was the steady, slow rhythm of his breathing. Then his hand lifted—not to touch her, but to tilt her chin up with just the curve of his knuckle.
"I need you alive, Elara. Not because you're my mate. Because if you die… every wolf under my command will be nothing more than prey for the ones who want your blood."
She stared at him, her mind scrambling to keep up. "And who are they?"
His jaw tightened. "The ones who destroyed your kingdom."
She almost laughed, but the weight in his voice made it impossible. "Kingdom? I think you've officially lost it."
Adrian leaned in, his breath brushing her ear. "You'll believe me soon enough. The moment your power wakes, the entire underworld will know exactly who you are."
She froze. "And who is that?"
He pulled back just enough for his eyes to meet hers, molten gold locking her in place.
"The Lunar Queen."