Isla started to find a strange comfort here, if only because she was no longer completely alone. Jamie was the pack’s outcast daredevil, constantly testing boundaries with a smirk that said he didn’t care about the consequences. And then there was Susan a steely-eyed woman with an unwavering focus who watched everything in the pack with an almost maternal protectiveness.
“You’re tougher than you look, Isla,” Jamie teased, ducking as she swung a punch that barely missed his jaw. “Didn’t think a rogue could fight like that.”
“Guess I’ve been underestimated before,” she said, hoping her answer didn’t sound as shaky as she felt. Every skill she displayed was another risk, another chance Draven would see through her.
Draven watched her closely, his gaze intense as she sparred. His presence was impossible to ignore. When she finally lowered her guard, catching her breath, he crossed the field toward her, his gaze flicking between her and Jamie.
“Not bad for a rogue,” Draven said, his tone edged with curiosity, as though he were trying to see beneath her skin.
She tried to meet his gaze, keep her expression neutral. “I’ve had to learn how to defend myself.”
Draven’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You fight like someone who’s had more than just survival training.” He paused, waiting for her reaction. He was testing herevery word carefully chosen to push her closer to revealing herself.
“I’ve had my share of encounters,” she deflected, refusing to give him more.
He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving her face, a dark intensity sparking in his gaze. “A rogue who fights like an Alpha’s daughter. Interesting.”
Isla had to say something, change the subject, anything to throw him off.
“That’s the way rogues survive, isn’t it?” she replied, her voice level, hoping he couldn’t sense her pulse hammering.
Draven’s smirk widened, though his eyes remained sharp. He stepped back, as if letting her retreat.But the look he gave her was heavy with something unspoken, a question left hanging between them.
Later that night, Isla paced in her small room, her mind racing with every look, every word Draven had thrown her way that day. His suspicion was growing. She’d never met anyone like him. Someone who could unravel her so easily, make her feel bare under his stare. Just as her thoughts spiraled, a knock sounded at her door, sharp and commanding.
She opened it to find Draven waiting, his dark eyes unreadable.
“Come with me.”
Isla’s heart hammered as she trailed behind him through the twisting corridors to his quarters, the air around him thick with the power he held over his pack. She swallowed as he opened the door, motioning her inside. The room was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the walls, amplifying the sense of danger that radiated from him.
He closed the door behind her, his gaze pinning her in place. “I want to know more about you, Isla,” he said, crossing his arms, every word a calculated probe.
“I’ve told you, I’m just a rogue.”
“Just a rogue?” He tilted his head, a mocking smile playing at his lips. “You’re hiding something.”
“What do you want from me, Draven?”
He let the silence linger, then leaned closer, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “You. In my bed.”
The bluntness of his words struck her like a physical blow, her hand shot out, slapping him hard across the face. The echo of the slap filled the room, but Draven only smiled, his eyes dark with satisfaction.
“I’m not that kind of girl.”
“I know.You have the skin of royalty. Tell me, Isla, who you really are.”
The intensity of his stare made her breath catch, her resolve beginning to waver. He leaned in further, his voice barely a whisper as he searched her eyes.
“You’re hiding something, aren’t you? Care to share?”
