Chapter 3

Seraphina Silvermoon POV:

We were shoved to the corner of the square, away from the grand platform. The murmurs of the pack followed us, a river of pity and ridicule. Elara and her friends stood a short distance away, not even bothering to hide their mocking laughter.

The elder assigned to perform the ceremony looked bored, his words rushed. He just wanted this farce to be over.

Dravon ignored them all. He turned to me, and with a gravity that seemed completely out of place in this sham of a ritual, he held out the bouquet of withered flowers-the same ones Elara had rejected.

"For you," he said simply.

I hesitated, then took them. The stems were dry and brittle, the petals like old paper. But as my fingers brushed against them, a faint, surprising warmth seeped into my skin, a gentle pulse that traveled up my arm and seemed to settle in my hip, easing the constant, dull ache of my bad leg.

I shot him a surprised look, but his expression was unreadable, his dark eyes giving nothing away.

"Hurry up," the elder grumbled. "Mark her, and then report to the Omega sector. That's where you'll be housed."

The Omega sector. The lowest of the low. The final, crushing humiliation. My body went rigid.

A large, warm hand settled on my shoulder. "It's alright," Dravon murmured, his voice a low rumble beside my ear. It had a strange, calming effect, cutting through my panic.

He leaned in. I braced myself for the sharp pain of the claiming bite. But it wasn't what I expected. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin on my neck with a surprising gentleness. There was no pain, only a sudden, intense jolt of electricity-the Sparks-that shot through my entire body. It was followed by a feeling of... completeness. A quiet, empty corner of my soul I hadn't even known was there was suddenly filled.

A soft gasp escaped my lips. I felt a wave of pure, clean energy flow into me through the mark, warm and soothing. It wasn't the all-consuming fire of a true mate bond I'd read about, but it was something powerful. Something real.

He pulled back, his face as impassive as ever.

The ceremony was over. We were ordered to leave the square. Walking past the assembled pack was like running a gauntlet of contempt.

A young warrior, one of Elara's admirers, stuck his foot out, trying to trip me.

Before I could even stumble, Dravon moved. He didn't seem to hurry, but one moment he was beside me, the next he was in front of me. The warrior's foot connected with Dravon's leg and the warrior yelped, hopping back as if he'd just kicked a stone wall. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his ankle.

Dravon didn't even look at him. He just kept walking, shielding me with his body. The snickering around us died down.

I saw Elara watching, a flicker of doubt in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by her usual scorn. "Brute strength. Nothing more."

We were led to the Omega houses, a collection of dilapidated wooden shacks that stood in stark contrast to the grand stone Packhouse where the Alpha's family lived. Our new home was the smallest, most derelict cabin of them all. Inside, there was only a rickety bed, a small table, and a single chair.

I looked down at the dead flowers in my hand, not sure what to do with them. There was no vase, nothing to put them in.

Finally, I found an old, dented tin cup. I filled it with water from the communal pump outside and carefully arranged the flowers inside, placing the makeshift vase in the center of the table. It was a silly gesture. They were just weeds. But they were the first gift I had ever received from a male. He had offered them to me with respect. They deserved the same.

I turned and found Dravon watching me, his expression unreadable. But for the first time, I thought I saw a flicker of something in his dark eyes. Something soft.

He spoke, his first words to me since we'd been bound. "Thank you."

I was so startled I almost dropped the cup. I shook my head, my cheeks growing warm. "I just... did what I thought was right."