Chapter 3
Liana's pov
The guard room smelled cold and heavy—like wet stone, old sweat, and the sharp clean smell that only really strong wolves give off. My heart was banging so hard against my ribs I thought it might break something. The silver chains on my wrists weren't just holding me down. They felt like a mark. Like they were screaming: you're not one of us. You're prey.
"Breathe, Liana," Alia said inside my head, calm even when I wasn't. "In. Out. We're not face-down in the dirt anymore. Look up at him."
I didn't want to. But my eyes moved anyway.
He stood next to the older Alpha—his father, I guessed. Taller than I expected, maybe six-five, built lean but strong, like he could run forever or snap someone in half without trying. Black curls falling messy over his forehead. Skin warm and golden, like he spent a lot of time under the sun. And his eyes… Goddess. They weren't just green. They were deep forest green, the kind of green that hides under lily pads when the light hits water just right. Right now those eyes were locked on me, and I forgot how to pull in air.
My gaze slipped to his mouth—full lips pressed into a tight line—and this wild, stupid heat rushed through me. I wanted to step closer. Wanted to taste him. Claim him. The silver burned hotter against my skin like it knew exactly what I was thinking and hated it.
"He's our mate," Alia purred, soft and sure. "And he's the prince. Future Alpha. They won't hurt their Luna. We're safe."
Safe. I almost laughed out loud, the sound stuck hysterical in my throat. "What if he rejects me?" I whispered back to her. "What if he sees rogue trash and tells them to kill me?"
"Then we run," she said, fierce now. "Like we always do. But look at him, Liana. He's not staring at a prisoner. He's staring at something he doesn't understand yet."
Then his scent hit me—real, close, overwhelming. Hot chocolate on a freezing night mixed with rain-soaked cedar. Warm. Safe. Home. Desire. All of it at once. My knees almost gave out. I breathed it in deep, trying to hold onto it like a lifeline.
The older Alpha's voice cut through everything. Loud. Heavy. "Who are you, and why are you in my territory?"
I flinched hard. Old habits kicked in—I kept my head down. Not just respect. Survival. Eyes down meant less trouble.
"My name is Liana," I said. Barely a whisper.
"Look at me when I speak to you," he ordered. Power pressed against my skin like a hand on my throat.
I lifted my chin slow. But I didn't look at him. I looked at the prince instead. Adrian. The name settled in my chest like it had always been there. Those green eyes caught mine and held. Suspicion was still there, but underneath it something else flickered—confusion, maybe even wonder. The mate bond hummed between us, quiet but alive, like electricity under my skin.
"Who are you really," the Alpha asked again, sharper this time, "and what do you want here?"
Everything inside me went cold. "I'm no one, Alpha," I said. The lie came out easy. Too easy. "Just a lone wolf passing through."
Adrian spoke then. His voice was lower than his father's, younger, but it still carried weight. "Are you a spy?"
"No." Quick. True.
"Why are you rogue?" he asked. Not angry. Curious. Like he actually wanted to know.
The question cracked something open. Memories I'd buried deep started crawling up.
Five years ago
The Blackwood clearing was muddy and cold. Rain had soaked everything. I was fifteen, on my knees not because I wanted to be, but because Beta Marcus had hit me so hard my ears rang.
"Freak," he spat, towering over me. The whole pack stood around us—my parents too. Faces hard. Some scared. Some satisfied.
"Show us again, little witch," he said. "Heal this."
He cut his own palm with a knife. Shallow. Blood welled up. Everyone watched.
I was shaking. If I said no, I'd get hit again. If I did it…
I reached out. That weird warm feeling gathered in my stomach, traveled down my arm. My fingers glowed soft white-gold. I touched his hand. The cut closed. Gone. Like it never happened.
A ripple went through the crowd. Half awe. Half fear.
Beta Marcus jerked his hand away like I'd burned him. "Sorcery!" he yelled. "Unnatural! The Moon Goddess gave us our own healing—not this… this abomination!"
The Alpha stepped up. My Alpha. His face looked ashamed. "It draws too much attention, Liana. Other packs will hear. They'll say we're hiding witches. They'll fear us. Or want to take you. You're a danger."
"I can help," I begged. Tears mixed with mud on my face. "I healed Maya's fever last moon. I can be useful!"
My mother spoke quiet, eyes on the ground. "A pack needs sameness, Liana. Your gift… it makes people jealous. Scared. For everyone's sake, you have to hide it. Or go."
They didn't even argue about it. That night they walked me to the border. Beta Marcus leaned close before I crossed the line.
"Run far, witch-pup," he whispered. "And if you ever use that trick near a real pack again, they'll kill you like the freak you are."
Now
"I had no choice," I heard myself say to Adrian. My voice sounded small. "I left my old pack."
"Why?" he asked. Eyes searching mine. Seeing too much.
I couldn't tell him. If his own parents saw me as a monster, how could he ever want me? Mate bond or not, I'd still be the freak.
"It's nothing," I lied. My cheeks burned hot. I felt the blush crawl down my neck. Saw his eyes follow it. His face stayed blank, but something shifted behind his eyes.
The older Alpha—Theron—watched us the whole time without saying much. Then he lifted a hand. "Take her to the east tower. Guest room. Get her food. She stays there until we figure this out."
Guards moved in. Hands on my arms, careful but firm. They started leading me out.
I looked back once.
Adrian was still watching. His father talking low and fast in his ear. But Adrian wasn't listening. Those green eyes stayed on me, confused, intense, like the whole world had just tilted.
The door shut. His scent faded. The corridor was dark and cold. Chains clinked with every step.
But deep in my chest, something small and scared flickered to life.
He'd looked at me.
Not like a spy.
Not like a rogue.
Not like a monster.
Just… me.
And that scared me more than anything. Because if he kept looking like that, I might start hoping.
And hope hurts worst of all when it gets taken away.