Draven commanded my father to draw up papers for a treaty, like we were
just a business deal. We didn't had no idea what he was going to do with us and no one even cared to ask as long as they saved themselves.
They moved us into the dining hall while the elders argued in low voices and guards watched every breath I took. The room was warm from the fire, but I still felt cold.I sat stiff in a chair that was too big for me, my wrists still sore and cheek stinging from from the slap, everything inside me hurt. I would rather die than go with him.
Duskwood was a name people in Silver Fang spoke carefully,it was the pack in the darkest stretch of land, the one with stories of punishment, blood and wolves who didn't follow normal laws. And it was the pack where my mother supposedly died or as they say "betrayed us,"whatever lie they used to erase her.My mother was such a sweet soul , she couldn't even hurt a fly. We weren't even allowed to see her get buried or know where she was buried. And each time I asked I was met with slap to my face. You could silence me but not the void that grew within me each day.
I stared at the table and tried not to shake, across from me, Laura sat straight with her hands folded, calm as always, like she was attending a dinner or some event. Every now and then her eyes flicked toward Draven with what looked like seduction, not fear, and it made my stomach twist, who looked at such a man like that and didn't flinch.
Draven sat at the head of the table like it belonged to him, one arm draped over the chair like the threat of war outside meant nothing. A man with the scar stood behind him, silent, watching everyone, I could tell that was his beta.
My father finally returned with a stack of papers in his hands.His face was pale and throat was bruised where Draven had held him. He placed the pages in front of Draven with trembling fingers. Draven skimmed them like he could read faster than the rest of us could breathe, then picked up the pen and signed without hesitation.
Just like that, two lines of ink and my life was no longer mine. My father signed too, hands shaking, then slid the papers away as if they burned.Draven leaned back and spoke. "Get their belongings," he said to his men. "We leave now."
The men nodded and moved right away, they started with Laura, of course they did.Laura gave them directions with a sweet voice, and when they returned, they carried bags and boxes and cases, so many that it looked like she was moving into a palace , not being taken as payment for peace.
It was a whole collection of clothes, shoes, jewelry, all sorts of perfume, hair pieces and books. The cost of all those would feed an entire village.
Lyra didn't look embarrassed,she looked satisfied. Then one of the men turned to me. "Your things." I stared at him for a second, then my throat tightened. "There's nothing to collect," I said quietly and the room went still in a strange way.
The man with the scar stepped closer. His eyes were sharp, not cruel, but not soft either. "Tell me where your room is," he said. I swallowed. "I don't stay in the pack house," I replied.
His brow tightened. "What."
"I live in the omega quarter," I said, voice flat because saying it out loud always made it worse. "Far behind the pack house." Draven's head turned slowly toward me,his gaze pinned me in place. "You don't live in the pack house," he repeated, and his voice had changed, lower.
"No," I said.
Draven's eyes darkened like a storm rolling in. For a second he didn't speak, and it felt like the room couldn't breathe until he did then he leaned forward slightly and asked "why?"
I didn't answer, because what was the point. Everyone in Silver Fang already knew why. And they still just never cared, it was humiliating enough for me in this pack what more in Draven's?
Draven stared at me a moment longer, then looked away like he was pushing the thought away. The man with the scar left to fetch whatever "nothing" I had.
When he returned, he held a small bundle, and my chest tightened with shame because it really was almost nothing. A plain dress, comb,a thin blanket and small pouch with a few coins Sage had once pressed into my hand "just in case." It looked ridiculous beside Laura's piles.
No one laughed, well except for Laura , but I still felt like they were. Draven stood. "Enough," he said, " let's get going." and with that, it was done, they marched us outside under guard.
The night air was cold on my skin, and my body ached with every step. They loaded Laura into one car, surrounded by her guards like she was royalty.
They put me in another car, I was glad for the distance between us, because I couldn't look at her face without feeling sick. She was my sister, I loved her so much despite everything she had even done to me. But I don't think I could get over the fact that she pushed me under a bus twice, and felt nothing.
The ride started, it was far and longer than I expected. The road was rough in places, and every swerve made pain shoot through my shoulder and hip, and my ribs felt bruised from the earlier shove and fall. " Are you okay," the driver asked concerned. "Yes," I lied plastering a fake smile.
I clenched my hands in my lap and tried not to make a sound but my body kept betraying me. A sharp turn made me wince, and I couldn't stop the small hiss that escaped.
The car slowed and came to a stop. I blinked, confused, and heard another car door open outside. Then footsteps approached my door making pulse jumped, we weren't yet at our destination, why'd they stop. I turned my head toward the window, trying to see, but the glass was dark.
Then door opened , Draven and scar face stood there. For a second I couldn't move, I couldn't even breathe right. He looked down at me like he was deciding something but his face unreadable. Then he glanced toward the front, toward his driver . "Take the car with you," he ordered. "I'll walk with her."
scar face looked confused, like he hadn't expected that, he looked at Draven but then his expression shifted, like he had heard something without words, and he nodded. They must have mind linked or something, something I longed to experience. I wonder what they said, or maybe I was in trouble I didn't understand why the car was stopped.
Not until Draven stepped closer, reached into the car, and wrapped an arm around my back and another under my knees, I gasped as my body lifted.
My first instinct was to fight, to push away, but my arms were weak and my head still swam, and the warmth of his hold shocked me and I ended up clutching his shirt instead, fingers tightening on fabric. He carried me out like I weighed nothing, my cheek pressed against his chest for a second, and his scent filled my lungs again, dark woods and rain, making my stomach twist with fear and something I didn't want to name.
He looked down at me once, close enough that his breath brushed my hair. Then he shut the car door with his foot and started walking, carrying me into the dark like he had decided I was his responsibility now, whether I wanted it or not.