The air was thick with a rising, deathly tension between the fae female and the werewolf, who shared a conflicted look between them for what's to come, and Myra didn't like any of it at all.

Well... Isn't this so convenient? They already sealed her fate.

"I'm dead, aren't I?" Myra's voice shattered the silence between Sinsana and Draven; his gaze slowly shifted to her as his irritation grew, and he pushed himself off the wall to stand beside her.

"What?"

"I mean, there isn't any way you will just let me go, and I know for a fact what being exterminated means, but this is your fault. I just wanted to help you after you freaking fell into my yard, and now I'm here because you bit me," she calls, her fingers pointed to him.

Sinsa remained silent, her amused expression revealing her fascination with the banter and dynamics between the two, as Draven approached Myra with a snarl in his tone.

"Last time I checked, I didn't force you to help me. If you'd just stayed inside and minded your business, maybe I wouldn't have bitten you in my Canix stage."

"Oh, color me stupid for trying to help an animal in need. I am a doctor, a vet; that's what I do. I help animals, and it didn't sit right with me that an animal was suffering. Glad I'm so stupid." Myra called, tugging down her brown locks.

"You aren't going to die. As long as you are in the human plane, no one will question what you are, but you have to quit your job. Until we find a cure, you are an anomaly and shouldn't be alive, and your shift could be at any time, so-"

"-so nothing, I am not one of you; you made that very clear, so just let me leave. I promise I won't tell anyone about you or Sinsa," she pleads, looking into his eyes.

For a fleeting moment, she saw conflict in his eyes, but it was quickly masked by his cold gaze as he pulled away from her.

He hadn't even realized how close he'd gotten, with their lips mere inches apart, but he pulled away.

For a moment, Myra's head spun from the dizzying combination of his musk and scent, which smelled like spice and pine. Was his perfume overpowering, or what was it about it that made her feel that way?

"Can you guys argue outside the room?" Sinsa's voice breaks the tension as they both huff out in frustration. They walk out of the room, with Sinsa as the lead; they head towards the familiar door, and that's when he sees the bed she'd woken up from.

The room looked quite spacious and less dusty than it was before, or it was just her imagination. "I cleaned it up earlier. Hopefully it's more comfortable now," she called to Myra with a kind smile.

However, it still upset Myra. Was it all real, or was it just in her head? Was this just her father's madness getting to her? She hung by the door, watching Sinsa head back towards her lab.

Now alone with Draven, their eyes locked, and a keen awareness grew within her core. She phased out as she walked into the room.

"You know, I still don't understand why your eyes are a silver color. I've never seen this kind of wolf eyes before. You are something special, Dr. Emerson," Sinsa says to her, and Myra feels her heart skip at that but turns to the still brooding alpha who watched her, an unreadable expression that screams danger.

"This is all your fault," she mutters to him before she slams the door in his face. She had a strong urge to pull his head out, but instead, she stroked it. She feels her joints ache as she walks to the bed.

As she crouched closer, folding her legs to her chest and closing her eyes, the ache worsened, and she silently prayed that Sinsa's test would be a real cure for her affliction.

"I can't be a werewolf; I just can't," she muttered, finally letting the tremble in her shoulders show. She was terrified, and there was a churning dread that she couldn't escape this place.

She dozes off for a few minutes, but wakes up feeling hot and clammy, struggling to breathe; she groans, tossing and turning on the bed as Sinsa walks in.

As she saw her shirt discarded on the bed, her eyes locked onto Myra, who was naked, her hair covering her torso, and what was left of her dignity, crouched on the bed. With the shirt around her face, she inhales shamelessly.

"Oh my... Myra, what's wrong? Talk to me," she calls out, as Myra struggles to speak a word; Sinsa immediately calls for Draven, and seconds later the alphas arrive.

His eyes immediately darkened as a hand flew to cover his nose. "This can't be happening..." he said with furrowed brows, looking at Sinsa, who stood confused.

"What is it?"

"She is in heat..."

"What? You mean her body is already altering to that of a she-wolf? Isn't that too soon? And dangerous?" Sinsa calls.

"Before her scent gets out, we need to find a way to quell it before rogues banished to this land can smell her; they are curious and have a taste." Draven calls, his voice crackling, like he was fighting it and struggling to keep sane, because he was.

The most alluring scent he'd ever encountered spun his head and senses. Myra, whose nose twitched, opened her eyes, her gaze immediately locking with Draven as she reached a trembling hand for him.

"Please...help me...it hurts..." She calls, and Draven stares at Sinsa. There were no suppressants to help a newly turned wolf, especially one about whom they knew nothing. He hadn't needed suppressants for the past decades, thanks to his Canix.

But Draven knew how he could help as he cursed under his breath, "Fuck...Sinsa, leave the room..." he ordered the fae, whose brows raised. "Now..." As the fae made her way out of the room, he snarled, making himself scarce.

As soon as the door locked, he removed his shirt and approached the bed, and Myra instantly clung to him like a child, her nose pressed against his neck, taking deep whiffs of his scent.

Her core pulsed with intense heat at every touch, and Draven knew what he had to do, pushing until her body leaned against the headboard, her silver-hued eyes delirious with need and her black pupils dilated with desire. "Please touch me, please; I feel so hot down there... "I need to cum." Myra begged as Draven struggled to resist his own desires to go further.

His hands grasped her waist as they both clutched the headboard, her legs open, while the bulge in his pants grew and ached to be free, pulsating with each moan-filled breath Myra took.

"Touch yourself, Myra," he shouts out, "and take what you need from me; my scent will help you." As she opens her legs, she hisses with each touch to her sensitive flesh.

Her pupils darkened as she pulled Draven forward, pushing her neck into the crook of his neck, and began to stroke her pussy. When she first touched her clitoris, she let out a hiss, and the alpha watched.

"Yes...that's it..." he calls, his throat dry, his eyes glancing down to her entrance, where the wet streak of her pussy aligns with her fingers, and Draven's breath thickens, especially since his eyes are fixed on her sex.

The wood on the bedpost cracked under his fingers as he struggled to resist the urge to touch that aching pussy, instead watching her fingers stroke faster and faster. Her cries and moans weren't helping his sanity, but he fought it, looking like he was in pain. "Yes, just like that. I can't smell your scent getting thick; you're almost there. Stroke that pussy for me," He whispered.

"Ngh...ugh...please, I want to come," she begged just as Draven reached forward, licking her earlobe and giving the command that had her erupting in flames.

"Cum for me Myra..." She explodes in ecstasy, a mind-blowing storm that catches the alpha off guard as her body goes limp and her head falls onto his shoulders, her hot breath whispering in his ears as she spasms through her climax.

As he reached down, his touch gave her skin a pink flush, and he licked her nape to cover her scent with his, and the wet drip on her fingers was an inviting temptation. He was tempted to push further, taking her fingers in his mouth to taste her.

What the actual fuck? He thought to himself as he pushed himself away from her, standing up from the bed and walking to the door with a strained ache in his pants and steps.

If he didn't get far away from Myra Emerson Moons, she was going to be his downfall; he needed to find a way to cure her.

And soon.

Sinsa paced back and forth in the hallway. She gazed at the door, and her fingers were twitching from nerves. She stiffened when she heard a moan. A stunned realization formed on her face to what they were doing as she quickly backs away to give them privacy, waiting for Draven in the living room instead.

She watched the fireplace, observing the flames ignite and burn as the night passed, and a few minutes later, the werewolf emerged. She hadn’t expected him to look like he was fighting the urge to turn back and re-enter the room. At first, Sinsa didn’t understand why his face was filled with worry, his forehead creasing as he walked into the room with a stiff step.

“What is it? Is she alright? Will she be okay?”

“For now…” he muttered, walking to the couch and covering his eyes with a hand. It had been a long time since Sinsa saw him in human form, and it was a relief to see he wasn’t trapped in that decade-long curse anymore.

She couldn’t help but smile at the alpha’s clumsiness as he tried to adjust on the couch. She was unsure whether it was the erection she had or if he was still adjusting to being back in his human form. He leaned over, his brows still furrowed, and gazed into her eyes with a cracked voice, saying,

“I need to rest, and so should you.” Then, he rolled over again, finding the perfect spot.

“We have a perfectly good bed and—”

”No, I’ll be here,” he muttered back, knowing the living room was the closest to Myra’s room in case of an emergency, one that she immediately realized. Sinsa found her cue to leave as she headed back into her lab. She watched the gold blood intensify and the darkness once more.

A cold feeling crept against her skin; whatever Myra was, it was unprecedented and may be dangerous in the future and a impressing guilt built, but she shut it down. Instead, she spent her night reading. The fae hardly needed sleep like wolves and humans did, so she dug deep into every ancient book she had, but there was no avail to what Myra was.

By morning, she had combed through the whole shelf before she gave up and headed to the kitchen to situate herself with the routine she’d always known. She began to cook, this time preparing a big hearty meal meant for at least five people, but she imagined Draven would have a big appetite in his human form too.

Humming happily to herself as she plated the sausages, scrambled eggs, and bacon, ” What in the moon’s name got you high and humming this morning… Did you get a breakthrough?’ Draven hissed, walking in with dark eyes and bags.

”Not quite... I may have helped myself to what humans perceive as coffee, but now I feel too awake to think of anything else. But it seemed you enjoyed yourself last night, didn’t you, my prince?” Sinsa asked, and Draven passed from her words. Looking at Sinsa, he could tell she didn’t mean any harm, being just curious, but sometimes it was creepy.

“I helped her the best I could; it was …hard,” He continued.

Well, something was hard last night . She wanted to say.

“It’s been decades since I smelled a female wolf in heat, and I never recalled them to be so...distracting.” He rubbed his aching temples and took a glass of water to drink.

“And quit calling me prince, Sinsa; it’s been decades, and you still haven’t gotten comfortable enough with me?” He called as Sinsa blinked, her ears twitching, showing her confusion.

”But that’s who you are, the firstborn son of the Night Law Pack and the heir and alpha of your pack; it won’t change no matter what, prince.”

”Yes, but I was exiled, cast aside after my crimes.”

”You did nothing wrong; that was because of the Canix. They corrupted you, and now you are free. I still can’t explain how, because we have been searching for a cure for decades. It is a miracle that Myra is here.”

”Huh…my little miracle indeed,” he said slowly with a bite to the food; the savory meal elicited a contented frown from the alpha as he dug into the bacon. He hadn’t had a normal cooked meal in a while, especially since he’d been hunting as a full-fledged wolf, his mind corrupted by the Canix , and devoid of human thoughts or instincts.

He was a living, killing machine, exiled from society.

“So I mean that much to you, huh, your majesty?” Myra’s voice rose as she leaned on the doorway, catching Draven and Sinsa’s attention. Her body was draped with another shirt, one he may have dropped beside her last night, which now fit her like a gown, its hem reaching past her thigh, causing him to quickly look away.

The alpha let out an annoyed, gruff rumble from his throat as he stood, his eyes wandering to Myra before he left the room, leaving her perplexed about whether she had committed a crime. As she passed, she rolled her eyes, muttering in annoyance at his arrogance, and walked towards the counter where Sinsa waited with a smile on her face.

“What’s his deal?” she muttered quietly.

“Good day to you, Doctor Myra…” Sinsa said, presenting a full platter, and Myra was on the verge of tears when she tasted the sandwich; a groan of appreciation escaped her, causing Sinsa’s smile to broaden.

“Jesus, what can’t you do? Not only are you book smart, but you can also cook?” Myra muttered with another mouthful of her breakfast, knowing she would have burned the eggs in her situation.

“Thank you; as lesser shifters, we have limited skills and try to develop other skills to gain recognition as guardians.” “You’re a shifter? Like him?”

“Yes and no, I’m an ordinary bird shifter – a phoenix, to be specific – but I can only transform into a small bird, making it rather useless.”

“You’re not useless, Sinsa. Thank you for this and for your help.” Myra’s assurance brought a smile to the fae’s face as she ate her breakfast quietly, despite the wolf male lingering in the back of her mind.

This morning, she woke up feeling sore but satisfied, with memories flooding back and leaving her mortified. Myra had attempted to act nonchalant when she saw the male who had helped her the previous night, but it seemed to have only further provoked the alpha.

She remembers those dark, possessive eyes that seemed to stare deep into her soul, as if he wanted to consume her entirely, or was that just her imagination? She groans in frustration.

And now She couldn’t help but feel mortified, and she insisted that the thought of him shaming her for having no control, or maybe the food, made her feel queasy.

“I swear I wasn’t as full as this three days ago after ransacking my fridge,” Myra muttered as Sinsa laughed. “That’s because I added shifter spices and ingredients to human food, if you don’t mind, which makes it more filling.”

“The meal was delicious, thank you,” she called again as she left the kitchen. “I would be at the end of the hallway; I have something to discuss with the prince—Draven,” she corrected, and Myra nodded as she walked down another hallway. At first, Myra thought the house was just a small cabin from the outside, but it turned out to be enchanted.

As she walked down the hallway, touring the house alone, she noticed the walls were scarred with scratch marks left by Draven. She had no idea that a world of shifters, fae, and magic existed, unknown to her and the rest of the world.

Her skeptical side tried to attribute it to her madness, but it was too convincing to dismiss, especially with her reflection still showing that bright metallic silver. She still had no idea how to calm the turmoil in her dark grey eyes. Unnoticed by her, she had approached the study, where she overheard Sinsa and Draven discussing her.

“Yeah, after all these long decades, I get to return home to the shifter’s realm as a sane prince, but I have to keep it a secret that she was bitten until I find a cure for Myra,” he said quietly, and Myra bit her lip at his words.

He was right; it was his fault, and he didn’t deny it. However, she was desperate to get her hands on the cure, and she was willing to follow him to the depths of another world to achieve it.

She opened the door, causing both their heads to turn before she declared her next words, shocking them both.

"I’m coming with you"’