Chapter 4 Alpha Draven

Feei

I meet his eyes, my eyes cling on the brightness of his aura, it sparkles indicating that he is sincere. I step forward and clasp forearms with him, his claws peek out, his wolf demanding to be let out. A claw rips into my arm and a drop of blood drips from my arm, and hovers in the air for a moment before splashing on the floor, I watch it disappear into the floor, and pale lily-white bud sticks out in the very place my blood was.

"Apologies I haven't seen moon-blessed since I was a pup."

"It's fine, it's refreshing sometimes to be reminded of what I am." I muster an awkward smile. Eying the alpha inspecting the small white bud.

"You honor us with your blood, wraithbane in my safehouse is something I've thought of, only dreamt of. I'm Alpha Draven, and I welcome you moon-blessed." He bows.

"Please call me Feei. I'm glad you opened your doors to me and not turn me away."

"Feei it is then," he smiles and waves at one of his pack members to lead me into the gigantic mansion-like house.

I followed the beautiful teal and silver she-wolf into it. Body weak, but still alert, waiting for someone to jump me, it won't be the first time for such a thing to happen.

She leads me into a room, and nods at the door without hesitation she spins around and disappears in the many corridors of the house. I stood for a moment, letting the silence settle around me. The door clicked softly shut, the sound echoing in the sudden stillness.

My senses, heightened by years of living on the edge, immediately began to catalogue my surroundings. My body ached, a dull, persistent throb that settled deep in my bones, a grim reminder of recent events. Yet, my eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail. It was spacious, larger than any single room I'd occupied in months, perhaps even years. A large, comfortable-looking bed sat against one wall, covered in plush blankets that seemed impossibly soft.

There was a heavy wooden dresser, a small writing desk, and a single window draped with thick curtains that blocked out the light from outside. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and something clean, almost sterile , a stark contrast to the damp earth and stale fear that had been my companions for so long. Despite the apparent comfort, every instinct screamed caution. Safety was a foreign concept, trust an even rarer commodity. I moved further into the room, my steps light despite my fatigue, my weight distributed carefully as if testing the ground for traps. I ran a hand over the dresser's smooth surface, my fingers tracing the grain of the wood.

My gaze lingered on the window, wondering what lay beyond those heavy drapes. Escape routes were always the first thing I looked for. Wraithbane. The Alpha's word echoed in my mind. It was what they called the plant that grew from my blood, and by extension, it was what they called me, sometimes.

A myth, a legend, something spoken of in hushed whispers around campfires. Something that could apparently kill wraiths, the shadowy creatures that haunted the fringes of this world. And something powerful enough to make an Alpha bow and welcome a stranger like me. I walked over to the bed, the inviting softness a temptation I couldn't quite succumb to yet. Instead, I lowered myself onto the edge, keeping my back to the wall.

My hand instinctively went to the small, almost imperceptible scar on my arm where his claw had broken the skin. It wasn't bleeding anymore, of course. My blood was too potent for that. A drop spilled was a life given, a miracle wrought from pain.

A sigh escaped my lips, quiet and shaky. I was safe, for now. Alpha Draven seemed sincere, his aura bright, his wolves surprisingly restrained despite my unsettling nature. But sincerity was a fragile shield, easily shattered by fear or greed. I was valuable, not just for my blood, but for what I represented, what I was. That kind of value could be a heavy burden, attracting unwanted attention, turning allies into captors.

I pushed myself up from the bed, moving towards the door. I didn't open it, just placed my ear against the wood, listening. Only the distant hum of a large, occupied house reached me. No hurried footsteps, no hushed conversations outside my room. For now, I was simply a guest. A strange, tired, dangerous guest with blood that bloomed flowers. I turned back into the room, finally allowing myself to acknowledge the exhaustion that weighed down my limbs. The wariness remained, a low thrum beneath my skin, but the immediate threat seemed to have receded, replaced by the quiet promise of rest. I walked back to the bed, this time intending to lie down.

Even the most vigilant warrior needed to sleep sometime. And if Alpha Draven truly offered sanctuary, I would need my strength for whatever came next. With one last look around the room, a silent appraisal of its potential dangers and comforts, I finally lay down, fully clothed, ready to spring up at the slightest disturbance. The silence was thick, the safety unfamiliar, but for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to hope it might last.