Page 39 of Moon's Call

DRAKEN

Draken’s footsteps echoed through the empty stone corridors of the castle. The ancient tapestries and portraits of his ancestors seemed to mock him as he paced past them for what felt like the hundredth time that night. His wolf prowled restlessly beneath his skin, urging him to shift and howl his frustration to the moon.

The night stretched endlessly as he wandered from room to room, unable to settle. The thought of sleeping in his bed, still carrying Lorelei’s scent, was unbearable.

“This is what she wants,” he muttered to himself. “She needs time. Space.” The words tasted bitter in his mouth.

Dawn’s first light began creeping through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished floors. Draken paused at the entrance to the east wing, drawn to the window overlooking the circular drive where Chuck waited with the SUV.

His hands clenched the stone windowsill as Lorelei emerged from the castle entrance below. She looked small from this height, but no less beautiful in her simple sundress. The sight of her walking away from him sent a physical pain through his chest.

His wolf howled inside him, demanding they stop her. It would be so easy to order Chuck not to drive away, to keep her here where she belonged. Where he could protect her.

But that wasn’t what she wanted.

“I could assign guards to follow her,” Scorpio suggested, materializing beside him. “Keep her safe without her knowing.”

“No.” Draken’s voice came out rough. “She’s powerful enough to handle herself. And I won’t betray her trust by having her followed.”

His wolf snarled in protest as Lorelei slipped into the back seat of the vehicle. Every instinct screamed at him to race down there, to wrap her in his arms and never let go. To mark her as his mate so no one could ever take her from him.

But he refused to be the kind of alpha who forced his will on others - especially not on his mate.

“She’ll come back when she’s ready,” Scorpio offered quietly.

“If she comes back.” Draken pressed his forehead against the cool glass, watching the SUV disappear down the winding drive. “She has to choose this. Choose me. Otherwise, none of it matters.”

The emptiness in his chest expanded as the vehicle carrying his mate vanished from view. He fought the urge to shift and chase after her. But he had to let her go - had to give her the freedom to choose this life, to choose him, on her own terms. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

He turned away from the window and headed to his master suite. He’d survived centuries alone - he could survive giving her the time she needed. Even if every minute felt like torture.

Draken slouched in his leather office chair, staring unseeing at the budget reports scattered across his antique mahogany desk. The light cast elongated shadows through the windows, but he couldn’t focus on work. His thoughts kept drifting to Lorelei.

The phone’s sharp ring cut through his brooding. He grabbed it, hoping against hope it was her.

“Prince Draken speaking.”

“Is this the mighty Alpha of the Moonshadow pack?” The voice dripped with mockery.

Draken’s fingers tightened on the receiver. “Who is this?”

“Someone who knows where your precious Luna is being held.”

Ice shot through his veins. “What are you talking about?”

“Gideon sends his regards. He’s quite pleased with how easily he snatched her up. Humans are so fragile, aren’t they?”

Draken’s wolf surged forward, a growl rumbling in his chest. The wood of his desk cracked under Draken’s grip. “If you’re lying?—“

“One million. That’s my price for her location.”

His wolf clawed at his insides, demanding blood. “You think I need you? I don’t.”

“Better hurry then. Gideon’s not known for his gentle touch.”

The phone cracked in his grip. He hurled it across the room, watching it shatter against the stone wall. The impact left a satisfying dent in the centuries-old masonry.

“Fuck!” His fist slammed into his desk. Papers scattered across the floor like autumn leaves. He surged to his feet, his chair crashing behind him. His wolf howled for vengeance, but cold fear threaded through his rage.

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