"I need some air," she said suddenly, pushing herself to stand on unsteady legs. "I need to think."
"You shouldn't be walking yet—" Lucien started.
"I'm fine." But even as she said it, the room swayed alarmingly. Draven was beside her in an instant, his strong arm supporting her.
"Let me help you," he said softly.
She wanted to refuse, wanted to prove she could stand on her own. But the truth was, she couldn't. She was weak, confused, and completely out of her depth. So she let him support her as they walked slowly toward what looked like a doorway leading outside.
The night air hit her face like a blessing. They were high up, she realized - the stronghold was built into the side of a mountain, with caves and passages carved directly into the rock. Below them, she could see a valley spread out in the moonlight, beautiful and wild.
"It's lovely," she whispered.
"It's home," Draven said. "It could be your home too, if you wanted it to be."
She turned to look at him, studying his profile in the moonlight. "What if I said no? What if I walked away from all of this?"
"Then I would let you go." His voice was quiet but firm. "I won't force you into anything, Elarose. The choice has to be yours."
"But your pack—"
"Will survive, as we always have." He looked at her then, and she saw something vulnerable in his silver eyes. "I won't lie to you. We've been hoping for so long that sometimes hope feels more like a curse than a blessing. But I won't trap you with our desperation."
The honesty in his voice made her chest tight. Here was this powerful man, this Alpha who commanded respect and fear, and he was giving her the choice to destroy his people's only chance at freedom.
"Tell me something," she said. "Not everything - I can tell you think I can't handle everything right now. But tell me enough so I understand why everyone keeps looking at me like I'm either their salvation or their destruction."
Draven was quiet for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the valley below. "My pack has been... struggling for a very long time. We've been waiting for someone who might be able to help us."
"Help you how?"
"It's complicated." His voice carried the weight of old pain. "There are things that need to be fixed. Things that have been broken for longer than you can imagine."
"And you think I can fix them."
"I think you might be the only one who can." He turned to face her fully. "But I also think you deserve the chance to understand what you are before we ask anything of you."
The connection between them flared stronger at his touch, and Elarose felt something shift inside her chest. Not just attraction - though that was there, warm and undeniable - but something deeper. Like recognition.
"This feeling," she said softly. "This connection between us. Is it real, or is it just some kind of supernatural thing I don't understand yet?"
"I don't know," Draven admitted. "There are... influences that affect how we feel about each other. But what I feel for you..." He paused, searching for words. "It started the moment I saw you. Before I knew what you were, before I knew you might be able to help my pack. You were just a terrified girl in a nightgown, and I wanted to protect you from everything."
Something warm and dangerous bloomed in Elarose's chest. She'd never had anyone want to protect her before. Never had anyone look at her like she was precious, worth fighting for.
"I'm scared," she whispered.
"Of me?"
"Of all of it. Of this power I don't understand, of whatever it is everyone needs from me, of caring about people I barely know." She looked down at their joined hands. "Of caring about you."
"Why does caring about me scare you?"
The question hit too close to home. "Because everyone I've ever cared about has left me. My mother. The few friends I made at the orphanage who got adopted. Even the nuns, in their twisted way - they were the only constant in my life, and I had to leave them behind." Her voice cracked.
"What if I let myself care about you, about your pack, and then I can't be what you need me to be? What if I make everything worse?"
Draven's hand tightened on hers. "What if you don't fail? What if you succeed beyond anything we've dared to hope for?"
"I don't know how to hope," Elarose said honestly. "I've spent twenty-two years learning not to hope for anything, because hoping just made the disappointment hurt worse."
"Then don't hope," Draven said softly. "Just... stay. For tonight, just stay and let yourself rest. Tomorrow you can decide what comes next."
She looked at him in the moonlight - this man who carried a thousand years of guilt and responsibility, who was offering her a choice that could destroy his people's only chance at freedom. The smart thing would be to run. To walk away from the power and the prophecies and the weight of expectation.
But as she stood there, feeling the cool night air on her skin and the warm connection flowing between them, Elarose realized something that surprised her.
She didn't want to run.
Not yet.
"Okay," she said quietly. "I'll stay. For tonight."
The relief that crossed Draven's face was so profound it made her chest ache. "Thank you."
They stood in comfortable silence for a while, looking out over the valley. But as the minutes passed, Elarose became aware of something else - voices drifting from inside the stronghold. Conversations that sounded heated, emotional.
"They're talking about me, aren't they?" she said.
Draven's silence was answer enough.
"What are they saying?"
"Some are hopeful. Others are..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Skeptical."
"They don't think I'm strong enough."
"They don't know you yet. Give them time."
But even as he said it, Elarose could hear the doubt in one particular voice drifting from inside - a woman's voice, sharp with disdain.
"She's been unconscious for a week. How is someone that fragile supposed to help us with something that's lasted this long? For all we know, using her power once nearly killed her. What happens if she tries again?"
The words hit like physical blows. Because the woman - whoever she was - wasn't wrong. Elarose had nearly died channeling power she didn't understand. What if next time, she wasn't lucky enough to survive it?
"Don't listen to Elena," Draven said quietly. "She's—"
"Realistic?" Elarose pulled her hand free from his. "She's saying what everyone's thinking, isn't she? That I'm too weak, too human, too broken to be whatever it is you need me to be."
"Elarose—"
"No, she's wrong." The words tasted bitter, but they felt true. "Look at me, Draven. Really look at me. I'm an orphan who spent her whole life being told she was worthless. I can't even control whatever power is inside me. How am I supposed to help your pack when I can't even help myself?"
The vulnerability in her voice seemed to break something in Draven's careful control. He reached for her again, but she stepped back.
"I need time," she said. "I need to figure out who I am before I can even think about who I might become."
"How much time?"
The question hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken implications. How much time before his pack's patience ran out? How much time before other threats found them? How much time before the weight of their expectations crushed her completely?
"I don't know," she whispered.
And as she stood there in the moonlight, caught between a past that had shaped her and a future that terrified her, Elarose realized that everything - absolutely everything - was about to change in ways she couldn't even begin to imagine.