Lahat ng Kabanata ng Bound to the Enemy’s Bed: Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

The council chamber did not empty quietly.Wolves filtered out with snarls under their breath, claws clicking against stone as the weight of Elaria’s decree rippled through the fortress like wildfire. Her words—sharp, irrevocable—hung in the air like blood in the water. She had invoked the healer’s right, the oldest law of survival, and by doing so she had bought Draven time… but she had also painted a target on her own back.Eyes had turned on her with suspicion, with disbelief, with seething fury. They hadn’t looked at her as the healer of the Kaelith Pack—they had looked at her as the Alpha’s woman, using her power to shield the man she loved.Elaria became aware of how her hands were shaking violently as the double doors slammed behind the final elder.Her breath froze in her throat, and the room that had just seconds before appeared so oppressively filled suddenly felt empty, with the ghosts of judgment reverberating from every stone.“Elaria.”He had a low, unvarnished voice wit

The only sound in the room where Elaria lay was Draven's labored breathing against her throat, while the world beyond the walls of the citadel was roiling with wolves honing their teeth on gossip.Below them, the furs were twisted and wet from fever and perspiration. Even though his body was still feeble, his wolf's fire was hotter than fever and it was consuming her with every trembling thrust. As if to see how far he could push before losing all control and marking her, his lips lightly touched her jaw and his teeth scraped the skin there.His voice was ragged and urgent as he rasped, "Say it," into her ear. “Say you’re mine.”Her breath seized and shattered into the darkness as her back arched and her nails created scarlet trails in his flesh as they dragged down the ridges of his shoulders. “I’ve always been yours.”The words broke him. His wolf poured through every movement as he drove into her, his hips snapping with a ferocious cadence. He claimed her not with a mark but with

The echoes of the council room remained like a curse even after it had been cleared.With her fingers pressed against the new mark at her throat, Elaria sat in the silence of Draven's room. It pulsed softly, much like a heartbeat rather than a wound, a rhythm that was no longer solely hers. Shadows were cast on the walls when the hearth fire broke. With no shirt on and his muscles taut in the torchlight, Draven stood close to the window.Since they got back, he hadn't spoken anything. His quiet was not distance; rather, it was rage that was hardly contained, a tempest that was around him like wolves at a fire.Finally, he turned, his golden eyes sharp. “I should never have let him force my hand.” His voice was low, strained. “That was not how I wanted you marked.”Elaria’s hand curled into her lap. “And if you hadn’t? They would have declared you broken. They would have taken the pack before dawn. You would already be dead.”He recoiled as if the words were a knife. He lowered hi

The roar of the crowd still echoed in Elaria’s skull as Draven swept her up from the bloodstained circle.None of it registered the way the warmth of his body did, even though her ribs screamed, her knees had come loose, and her palm still dripped crimson where pieces of her shattered staff had pierced through. His chest heaved as if he had resisted every hit next to her, and his arms were steel around her.The world narrowed. Wolves screamed in outrage and worship all around them, factions already snapping into violence, but Draven’s growl cut through it like a blade.“She stood.” He had a rough voice that was part vow and half snarl. "It was over when she stood up.”With the stone grinding shut behind them, they entered the circle and went through the gates. The hall's wide walls absorbed the roar, dulling it. Only the rasp of Draven's breath and the roaring beat of his heart against her cheek could break the intense silence.With her speech hardly audible beyond a whisper, Elar

Packs filed out in boiling knots of barbed murmurs and whispered obscenities as the chamber began to empty in sharp pieces. Draven's shoulders straightened against each accusing glare that flashed toward him, and he just managed to stay standing by sheer willpower. He felt as if a hundred eyes were pressing down on him, daring him to trip. He didn’t. Not in front of them.But Elaria saw. He clinched his teeth, and she could see the ghost of anguish flashing beneath his jaw, the stiffness of his left arm, and the tiny line of sweat that traced his temple. The trial and combat had taken their toll, and though Draven had stood victorious, Rhovan had twisted the victory into a poisoned blade. “The Alpha bleeds too easily,” some murmured. “The bond clouds him,” others whispered. The council had not dethroned him, but the rot had spread.Silence, so harsh it rang in her ears, fell as the last of the spectators had left, the chamber doors groaning shut. At last, Draven's shoulders drooped