Chapter 23: _ Mate-Bond Slave

She was still trapped against the grate, the thick vines slowly loosening now that the Sylven’s focus was broken. She was breathing heavily, staring at me with relief and awe.

I hated it. I hated the way she looked at me like I was some heroic knight in shining armor, and I hated how handsome I knew I looked standing in the pale blue light.

’Claim her,’ my wolf growled, thrashing against my core. ’She is ours. Take her.’

Shut up,Riven. I ordered him, gritting my teeth as a sharp pain throbbed behind my temples.

"Curiosity is going to get you killed, trench rat," I rasped, struggling to keep my tone cold as I stepped forward and sliced through the remaining vines with a swipe of my claws. "But before that happens... I’m going to hunt down that damn Sylven and tear his head off."

Elira tumbled forward onto her knees, gasping for air. She didn’t even look at her chafed wrists... she immediately scrambled toward her two unconscious roommates on the floor, checking their pulses with shaking hands.

"He’s... he’s been killing students. He’s stealing their powers by killing... he was going to..."

She trailed off, her shoulders slumping as a shadow fell over her face. The memory of what had almost happened to her in the dark haunted her. I knew because I knew what it was like to be haunted by sour memories.

I stood above her, looking down at her small, trembling frame.

I wanted to walk away. I wanted to leave her to her pathetic little commoner life and pretend this afternoon had never happened.

Instead, my knees bent on their own.

Before I could stop myself, I crouched down beside her in the dirt. My hand reached out and my fingers brushed a stray lock of dark hair away from her damp cheek.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly, the gentle tone of my own voice shocking me to my core. "He didn’t... do anything to you, did he?"

Elira looked up, her hazel eyes locking onto mine. "No. Thanks to you... he didn’t."

Gods, she was beautiful. Up close, she looked impossibly delicate.

"Good," I muttered, the words spilling out of my mouth before my brain could censor them. "You look like a petal that needs sunlight. Not rough hands that only know how to crush things."

I froze.

A petal?

A fucking petal?

Since when did I compare women to flowers?

What the hell was that?

I was Ivar Wulfram. I do not comfort women. I do not stroke their hair. I certainly do not compare them to things worth protecting.

Elira’s lips parted and a dazed look washed over her face as if she were caught in the same surreal trance as me.

And then, as if driven by some insane, possessed instinct I couldn’t control, I leaned forward and gently pressed my lips against her forehead.

The touch lasted barely a second, but the warmth of her skin scorched straight through my soul.

The second I pulled back, pure panic slammed into my chest.

What the fuck are you doing?

I scrambled backward onto my feet, my heart pounding against my ribs. I looked down at my hand as if it belonged to a stranger. I was acting like a pathetic, soft-hearted fool.

A simp.

If Zev ever found out about this—if anyone found out I had not only failed to stay away, but had saved her, touched her, and kissed her—I would never hear the end of it. My reputation as the ruthless Wolf Prince would be utterly destroyed.

I was the king of bad decisions, but I wasn’t going to let this decision ruin me.

"Look at me," I commanded, forcing my power into her mind. "You never saw me here. Something scared that Sylven away, and he fled before he could touch you. You woke up, freed your friends, and got out."

Elira’s eyes blinked, growing slightly unfocused as the suggestion took root in her mind.

Without waiting another second to see if the compulsion held, I turned on my heel and sprinted out of the chamber, my boots devouring the dark corridor as I fled into the night like a thief.

A fucking stupid, mate-bond slave thief.

I ran.

I didn’t stop until my lungs burned and the shadows of the Sunken Arch gave way to the towering fortress of Wolf Academy. When I got to the gates of my building, Riven was clawing at my throat, demanding I turn around and go back to her.

I shoved him down into the darkest corner of my mind and kicked open the doors to my private compound.

.

"My Prince—" a maid gasped at the loud clang, dropping to a low curtsy near the foyer. "Welcome back! You have–"

"Get out!" I snarled, sweeping my arm across the foyer table.

A decanter shattered against the flagstones, sending expensive wine splashing across her white apron. She flinched, but I didn’t care. I shoved past her, tearing my soaked cloak from my shoulders and ripping it down the seam before tossing the ruined fabric onto the floor.

I slammed my way up the winding staircase, kicking a decorative suit of armor off its pedestal at the landing. It crashed down the stairs with a deafening metallic roar, but the noise barely muffled the chaotic thunder of my own pulse.

A petal.

I slammed my fist into the wall, cracking the plaster.

I called her a petal.

I burst through the double doors of my private bedchamber, ready to tear the room apart until the fury in my blood burned itself out.

Instead, I froze.

Sitting in the high-backed armchair beside my fireplace, one long leg casually crossed over the other, was Zev.

The Tiger Prince was holding an unlit cigar between his fingers, entirely unbothered by the wreckage I had left in the hallway below.

He would have heard it all. Tigers have the second-best hearing after us wolves.

I stopped mid-stride, dropping my arms. I forced my posture to straighten, smoothing down the front of my tunic as I tried to yank my wild wolf eyes back into composure.

It was too late. The shattered decanter downstairs, the ruined cloak, the sweat dripping from my jaw—Zevaranthius had already processed all of it.

"Quite the entrance, Ivar," Zev mused. He slowly turned his head toward me, those calculating eyes locking onto mine. "You look like you just wrestled a dragon. Or committed high treason."

"Zev," I muttered, gritting my teeth as I walked over to the side table to pour myself a stiff drink, keeping my back to him. "I didn’t know you were waiting in my quarters."

"Evidently. Because if you knew I was sitting here, you wouldn’t have just crashed out like an unhinged wild beast in front of the servants."

He stood up, his broad-shouldered frame draped in black and gold rustling softly as he stepped into the center of the room. He stared long at me, reading every twitch of my jaw.

"So pray tell, whatever is the cause of this outburst, and how was your assignment with our little new pet?"