Dravina POV

The slap landed without warning a sharp, violent crack that snapped my head to the side. Pain exploded across my cheek, hot and immediate, disorienting me in an instant.

My breath caught, tangled somewhere between fear and disbelief. I staggered backward, only to crash into the cold, unyielding wall behind me.

There was nowhere to run not that escape had ever been an option.

"Cassian, please," I whispered, voice trembling, barely rising above the frantic pounding of my heart.

My hands lifted in reflex, palms open, a useless attempt to shield myself. The fury radiating off him was suffocating, thickening the air like smoke from a wildfire.

His chest rose and fell in harsh, shallow bursts. His jaw was locked tight, and his eyes dark, relentless held mine with a promise I didn't dare challenge.

"Are you unhappy here, Dravina?" he asked, his voice soft too soft. Each syllable was slow, precise, laced with a deceptive calm that cut sharper than any blade. But I wasn't fooled.

That voice was a mask. Behind it churned the tempest I had come to know too well. The flicker of fire in his eyes betrayed everything.

I tried to shake my head, to speak, to calm him, but my voice stuck in my throat. He didn't wait.

"All I asked of you tonight," he said, his tone tightening like a noose, "was to be gracious. Just a good hostess. That's it. That's all."

His voice turned brittle, laced with venom.

"But you couldn't even manage that, could you?"

Each word struck harder than the slap had, a verbal assault that sliced through me. My heart twisted, shame curling around the fear like thorns on a vine.

"And then you blush at Arixen's compliments," he hissed, stepping closer. "Dancing with him like... like you've forgotten yourself. Like you're not a mated woman. Like you're not my Luna."

The way he said my sharp, possessive cut deeper than anything else.

He loomed over me, casting a shadow I couldn't escape. His rage devoured the room, choking the very air I breathed.

Every instinct screamed at me to flee, to run but I knew better. There was no way out of the gilded prison Cassian had so carefully built around me.

"I was just being polite," I said softly, voice cracking as fear wrapped tight around my chest. "It meant nothing, Cassian. Nothing."

He laughed a harsh, humorless bark that made my blood run cold.

"Nothing?" he echoed, mocking. "You think I'm blind? Stupid? I saw the way he looked at you. And worse you let him."

I shook my head, desperate, but the words wouldn't come. Not that they would matter.

"You belong to me," he growled, voice low and brimming with threat. "You'd do well to remember that."

The weight of his words pressed down on me like iron chains.

I tried again to speak, but he cut me off before I could even breathe.

"Do you know what you looked like tonight?" he snarled. "What they must have thought of me? The whispers, the glances Alpha Drethos even asked if something was wrong between us."

"I was trying to be a good hostess," I said, barely more than a breath. It sounded pathetic, even to me.

"A good hostess?" he thundered, stepping in so close the heat of his rage blistered against my skin. I flinched.

"A good hostess doesn't humiliate her mate. She doesn't forget who she belongs to. Did you think it was polite when you danced with him? When you walked with him like you weren't mine?"

My throat tightened painfully. I had no words.

What could I possibly say? The truth that I was cornered into my role, that refusing Arixen would've been seen as disrespect, a diplomatic misstep would only fuel the fire.

He didn't want honesty. He wanted submission.

"Don't I treat you well?" he asked, quieter now, though no less cruel. "Don't I praise you? Compliment you?"

He stepped in again, and I found myself pinned between his fury and the wall. I nodded frantic, fearful hoping that agreeing might somehow calm him.

"Then why you?" he spat. "Why not delegate? Why was it you entertaining him, smiling at him, laughing with him?"

I opened my mouth to answer. Nothing came out.

Because I hadn't been allowed a choice.

Because no matter what I did, I would still end up here beneath the weight of his wrath.

The silence between us stretched taut and heavy, and I knew I'd already been condemned. I was guilty in his eyes. Always had been.

My heart pounded like a war drum.

Then his hand fisted in my hair.

The pain was instant and brutal, and I cried out as he yanked my head back.

Tears spilled freely, sobs catching in my throat. I couldn't understand how could someone who claimed to love me do this? How could he look into my tear-streaked face and still hurt me?

How could he destroy me and still call it devotion?

"When I chose you, it was because I believed you were different," he sneered, every word dripping with disgust. "Not like the rest of those whores. Not like my mother."

The mention of her turned my stomach. I trembled, shaking my head, silently begging him to stop but he wasn't done.

His hatred of her was a rotting wound, festering beneath every moment, poisoning everything he touched.

"But I was wrong," he said, voice scathing. "You're just like her."

"No, Cassian, please..." I whispered, my voice nearly gone, swallowed by my sobs.

But my pleading only stoked the fire in him. His grip tightened, sharp enough to make me gasp in pain.

"You've been a bad girl, Dravina," he growled, the words thick with menace. "And you know what I do to bad girls."

That was the moment I shattered.

My body convulsed, wracked with sobs as the last of my resistance dissolved.

"Please," I whimpered, the word a broken thread in the dark. But it meant nothing. It always meant nothing.

That night, Cassian unleashed a cruelty so consuming it hollowed me out. My screams must have echoed through the entire pack house.

They had to have heard me. But no one came. No one ever did.

Maybe they thought I deserved it.

Maybe they believed it was my fault.

That I'd invited the storm that tore me apart.

Dravina POV

When Cassian was finally finished, I lay still too broken to move, too hollow to cry. My body throbbed with pain, and my spirit felt torn beyond repair.

As if on cue, he shifted slipping from monster to caretaker with the ease of someone who had done it far too many times. He gathered me in his arms, holding me delicately, like I was something fragile... something cherished.

The same hands that had inflicted the pain now cradled me with unnerving gentleness. He carried me to the bathroom in silence, and I didn't resist. I couldn't.

He lowered me onto the edge of the tub, careful now, as if that would somehow undo what had already been done.

Steam rose from the bath, curling into the air like smoke, but I didn't feel its heat.

The water touched my skin, but I remained cold numb in a way that ran deeper than flesh.

Cold and disgusted. Not just with him but with myself.

"You can't keep provoking me like this, Dravina," he murmured, voice low and syrupy, as though he were soothing a frightened child.

His hands glided a sponge over my bruised skin with unsettling tenderness. Each stroke made my stomach turn.

"Look what you made me do."

The blame slipped from his lips like a lover's sigh, sinking heavy into my gut. I clenched my jaw, holding the scream that wanted to rip through me. I couldn't let it show couldn't give him any reason to reignite the storm.

Cassian's rage had no mercy, and silence was my only shield.

I sat stiff in the bath, every muscle locked tight, unmoved by his false comfort.

"It's been six years," he said, voice cracking like he was the one bearing the pain. "Six years, and you still drive me mad."

He paused, and when I looked up, his face had crumpled. Tears rolled down his cheeks, carving familiar paths I'd seen too many times.

They meant nothing. They never had.

We had been here before again and again. Rage. Remorse. Promises that unraveled like smoke.

"Please... don't make me kill you," he whispered, the words trembling with what might have been fear. "Don't make me do it."

His voice, hoarse and uneven, sent a chill lacing through my spine. But I didn't speak. There was nothing left to say.

I had heard every version of this before his apologies, his regret, his declarations of love twisted with poison.

Each one had been a thread in the noose tightening around my throat.

"I hate hurting you," he said, his voice breaking as he brushed a strand of wet hair from my face.

To anyone else, the gesture might have looked tender. But I knew better.

It was just another form of control. Another performance.

"Can't you see it's killing me?"

I met his gaze, but there was nothing left in me to give. No sympathy. No sorrow. Just the cold, festering hatred I carried for the man who had turned my life into a cage and called it devotion.

"Are you planning to leave me?" he asked, voice trembling but not with grief. With warning.

I shook my head quickly, pulse hammering in my ears. The wrong answer would be dangerous.

His hand reached up again, stroking my hair in a grotesque imitation of affection. It made my skin crawl.

"Don't be like my mother, Dravina," he whispered, each word laced with poison. "She ruined everything. Ruined my father. I won't live that life again. Don't make me."

His voice cracked with desperation, but it wasn't the kind that drew pity. It was the kind that set alarm bells ringing deep in my chest. His sobs weren't new they were the aftermath of destruction. The performance that always followed the punishment.

"I'm a monster," he breathed, pulling me into his arms like a vice. The embrace was suffocating, his grip too tight. I stayed stiff, unmoving, trapped.

Did he want forgiveness? Submission? Silence?

I had nothing left to give.

Every bone in my body ached. Every bruise screamed. But it was the ache inside the hollow, splintered part of me that hurt the most.

He sobbed into my shoulder, begging me not to ruin him. Begging me not to destroy him.

But who would fix me? Who would hold me as I crumbled?

His tears were not for me. They were for the illusion of control he felt slipping through his fingers. They were for the pride he mistook for love. They were for himself.

They always had been.

That night, I lay awake in bed, the sheets twisted around my limbs like chains. Sleep felt like a distant fantasy.

Blue my wolf paced within me, restless, uneasy. Her presence stirred something deep, something we both feared to name.

She knew the truth. So did I.

If we stayed, it would kill us.

Cassian's love wasn't love. It was possession. It was fire without control, fury without limits. It was madness masquerading as devotion.

One day, his jealousy would consume him completely.

And when it did, there would be no one left to save us.

Dravina POV

Morning arrived slowly, slipping through the curtains in pale shafts of light that cast long, creeping shadows across the room. But even in the light, Cassian's presence clung to the air heavy, suffocating, inescapable.

The shrill buzz of his phone broke the silence.

He answered it briskly, his tone flat but clipped with irritation.

"Arixen," he said, and my stomach twisted instantly.

Why was Arixen calling him?

Panic surged beneath my skin, my heart hammering against my ribs as I strained to catch whatever I could from the conversation. Cassian's voice cooled with each passing word, the sharp edge of anger curling into it like a blade.

"I see," he said darkly, his eyes snapping to mine cold, accusing, and unreadable.

My chest tightened beneath the weight of his gaze. It was as though he could see straight through me. As though every secret I held had suddenly turned transparent.

"Thanks," he said curtly, ending the call.

He set the phone down with precision, then turned fully to face me, the intensity in his stare enough to rob me of breath. His expression was thunderous.

"Did you really think Arixen would side with you?" he asked, voice low and lethal.

I went still, terror clamping around my throat. What had Arixen told him?

Cassian stepped forward, his smile sharp and cruel.

"Throwing yourself at him to get what you want," he spat, his laugh bitter and hollow.

"You really thought you could use him to beg for your parents' safety? You must think very little of him if you believed offering yourself would work. Do you not understand yet, Dravina? I own the West. Every man, every wolf answers to me."

"No," I said quickly, my voice shaking. "I didn't do that, Cassian. You saw he came to me. I only danced with him because I thought you were okay with it. I just asked him about my parents nothing more."

A lie. A fragile one. But a necessary one.

My voice faltered, thick with fear, praying he wouldn't hear the truth buried beneath the surface that I had gone to Arixen, that I'd begged for help. But Arixen had clearly twisted the narrative to save himself, and now I was left to bear the fallout alone.

Cassian stared at me, unmoving, unreadable. The silence stretched, growing heavier, until it became unbearable.

"Please, Cassian," I whispered. "I can't take any more."

For a fleeting second, something shifted behind his eyes regret? Uncertainty?

But whatever it was, it vanished just as quickly, swallowed by the familiar storm of rage.

"You're lucky I have a meeting," he muttered at last, turning away from me.

Relief hit me like a wave but it was fleeting, shallow. I knew this was no pardon. Only a delay.

His fury still smoldered just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to burn through again.

He dressed quickly, every movement sharp with tension. Even when his voice was calm, that eerie stillness in his eyes unsettled me.

He crossed the room to his safe. I watched from the bed, every muscle wound tight as he pulled out a stack of documents. The heavy door slammed shut with a metallic finality that echoed through the room.

That safe had always drawn my curiosity. And today, it burned hotter than ever.

I had memorized the combination long ago one small act of rebellion he would never suspect. A silent triumph I'd claimed in the dark.

Cassian gathered his things and strode out, the door clicking shut behind him. As the echo faded, I slipped from the bed, forcing my face into a mask of control even as chaos raged inside me.

I wasn't to blame for the torment he inflicted but the guilt, the shame, the fear... they clung to me like skin. Still, today, I would uncover the truth.

I crossed the room, my breath uneven, my heart thundering. My fingers found the dial. I turned it with precision, each satisfying click a defiance against the cage he'd kept me in.

The door creaked open, revealing rows of meticulously organized folders and stacks of cash.

I sifted through them, hands trembling, until one folder stopped me cold.

My name was printed on the tab.

My pulse spiked.

Why would Cassian have a file on me?

I pulled it free, heart racing, dread coiling deep in my stomach.

Inside, I expected something awful. But nothing could have braced me for what I found.

A bill of sale. My name written across it like a brand.

A contract. A transaction. A price.

I stared in stunned disbelief, breath stalling as the realization hit.

My parents... they weren't my biological parents. They'd sold me to Cassian. Traded me off like a commodity. As if I were furniture. As if I were nothing.

The receipt was cold, clinical, absolute.

The truth struck like lightning. The people I had loved, trusted believed were protecting me had sold me into this nightmare.

It wasn't just the adoption. It wasn't even the lie.

It was the betrayal.

The knowledge that, for six long years, I had clung to Cassian's threats his taunts about my parents' safety believing it meant something.

But it meant nothing.

They had handed me over willingly.

And whatever they gained from that sale had likely funded the peaceful lives they were living now far from the hell that had become my reality.

My knees gave out. I collapsed, the folder tumbling to the ground as a sob tore from my chest.

Tears streamed freely, hot and blinding. The grief, the fury, the heartbreak it all came at once, a storm I couldn't contain.

"This isn't the time," Blue snapped from within, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade.

"This doesn't make you weaker it frees you. Let go. Let them go. It's time to run."

Her fury burned just as fiercely as mine. She was right.

There was nothing left for me. No ties. No loyalty. No more lies.

I wiped my face, swallowing my cries, and forced myself to stand.

The look in Cassian's eyes before he left it hadn't just been anger. It had been a warning. A countdown.

His wrath hadn't disappeared. It was waiting, growing, sharpening its teeth.

I'd tried to escape before. Failed. But this time... this time was different.

Because now the chain had snapped. Now the illusion was gone. Now there was nothing left to hold me here.

Not duty.

Not fear.

Not even hope.

If I stayed, it would destroy me.

And I wouldn't give Cassian that chance.

Not this time.