DRAVEN'S POV.
"You touched me," I said. "No one survives that."
She pressed herself back against the cage, trembling so hard the chains rattled again. "I…I don't understand. I was…I was just running. They were chasing me. I didn't mean to—" Her voice broke into a sob. "Please, I don't even know who you are."
"You don't need to," I said flatly.
Her lips parted, but no words came out this time. Only an empty sound, half fear, half disbelief.
Zayn moved closer to me. "She doesn't seem to know, my king," he said quietly.
"I know."
I didn't take my eyes off her. Because ignorance didn't change the fact that she had done the impossible. She had touched me, and lived. The girl flinched when I crouched down in front of the bars. She tried to shrink away, but there was nowhere left to go. I studied her face, her trembling hands, her pulse hammering under her skin. She smelled human, looked human, but humans didn't survive me. Something isn't right.
"You shouldn't be here," I said, straightening. "No human crosses these lands and survives."
She blinked at me, fear flickering behind her eyes, then, to my surprise, she actually scoffed.
"Human? Really?" she said, voice trembling but still defiant. "What are you, a god or something? Because, I mean—" she gestured vaguely, "literal wolves just turned into men right before my eyes, so at this point I'm not ruling anything out."
Zayn made a small choking sound that might've been a cough, or laughter he didn't dare let out.
I stared at her, unamused. "You find this amusing?"
She swallowed hard. "No. I'm just trying not to lose my mind." Her voice cracked slightly. "Please…just let me go. I need to go home."
I didn't respond. Her bravado faltered, the humor dying in her throat. She sank back against the cage, hugging herself again. "Please," she whispered.
"Keep her locked," I told Zayn, turning away. "No one enters. No one touches her. Not until I know what she is."
"Yes, my king."
I didn't look back as I left. But even as the door closed behind me, I could still hear her voice. That small, frightened voice that still tried to sound brave.
"I just want to go home." She kept screaming.
***
As I closed the door to my chambers, leaving the girl's terrified, stubborn little voice echoing faintly behind me. Zayn followed, silent for a moment, as though he were weighing the right words to say.
Finally, he broke the silence. "She's human, my king. I checked. I traced her scent, examined her pulse. Everything lines up. There's no masking, no trickery that I can sense."
I didn't move. I let the words hang in the cold hall between us.
"And yet she touched me," I said finally, letting the words roll off my tongue like stones. "No protective spells. Nothing. My curse should have claimed her immediately. She should be dead."
Zayn swallowed. "I…I don't know, sire. I've never seen this happen. Not once. She shouldn't exist in your presence, let alone be alive. Nothing about her…" He trailed off, shaking his head.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Nothing about her is ordinary," I muttered.
He spoke again, quieter. "I found out where she's from. A tiny village by…Hemlock Hollow."
I raised an eyebrow. "Hemlock Hollow?" I muttered, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "Well, I guess they don't have water in that tiny village. No wonder she smells like…well, like a pig in a storm."
Zayn blinked. "Are you serious?"
"Of course," I said, gesturing toward the door that led back to her cage. "She touched me. She stinks. Go wash my cloak, and make sure it's thoroughly cleansed. I don't want her scent lingering near me any longer than necessary."
"Yes, my king," Zayn said, masking a smirk.
I paced slowly along the hallway, my boots echoing against the stone floor. The torchlight flared, throwing long shadows. My mind refused to rest. There weren't exceptions to the women who could survive touching me, and yet…she had. I stopped near the window overlooking the palace courtyard. The moon hung pale and watchful over the city, and I could almost feel the heartbeat of the land itself. But her heartbeat…that fragile, persistent, insistent pulse, was what haunted me.
"Zayn," I said without turning. "If she's human, why is my curse…ineffective?"
He leaned against the stone wall, arms crossed. "I don't know. I've checked every detail. Her energy…it's human, completely. There's nothing else. No spells, no fae blessing, no demon binding…nothing. She shouldn't be able to survive your touch. But—"
"But she did," I finished.
"Exactly," he said quietly.
Zayn shrugged, though I could tell he wanted to offer some explanation he didn't fully trust. "Maybe she isn't ordinary. Maybe she isn't human in the way we think. Maybe—"
"Maybe what?" I snapped.
He hesitated, weighing the words. "Maybe someone sent her to you."
I froze mid-step. The words remained in the air, heavy with implication. "Sent her to me? By who? And why?"
"I've been asking the same questions," Zayn admitted. "Her village is tiny, and insignificant. Whoever she is…they wouldn't dare approach you, unless this was planned. Unless she's bait."
I let out a sharp breath, tugging at the edge of my cloak. "Bait," I muttered. "For what? No one has the audacity. She even dared to reach for me." My hands flexed inside my gloves. The memory of that contact burned faintly beneath the leather. It unsettled me more than I cared to admit.
Zayn was silent. "She…she isn't from Hemlock Hollow originally," he said finally. "Someone moved her there recently. Someone who knew you might be traveling near her path. Someone who wanted you to find her."
I turned sharply, gripping the edge of the window.
Zayn leaned against the wall, silent for a moment. "She's human, my king. Nothing else."
I didn't answer. I pressed my palm to the cold stone, thinking of the impossible truth…"
"Keep her locked," I said finally, voice low. "The key stays with me. She sees no one, not until I decide."
"Yes, my king," Zayn said.
I paced, my boots scraping the stone. "Prepare for the council. They'll notice her, and if word spreads…" I let the threat hang. "…I will deal with it."
Zayn didn't respond, only nodded.
I muttered under my breath, more to myself than anyone else, "And why is she so dirty? Go wash my cloak, Zayn. I don't want that scent lingering. Even touching her was…unpleasant."
Zayn's mouth twitched. "Of course, my king."
Something about her defied everything I knew, everything I feared, and that meant trouble was coming.
And trouble… had a name.