Claimed In The Shadows

Dravina POV

There was no time left to second-guess. No space for hesitation or doubt. I had been building toward this moment for years three long, brutal years spent quietly planning, preparing, and waiting for the perfect time to break free.

Every failed attempt before this had come at a devastating cost.

To Cassian, my attempts to escape weren't mere disobedience they were betrayals, each one a challenge to his dominance. And each failure had been met with a wrath that left me bruised, broken, and hollow.

He didn't just punish my body. He fractured my soul, carved away pieces of me until only splinters remained.

But this time would be different.

This time, I wouldn't fail.

Some might have told me to turn to his family. But they were no refuge. They were just like him cold, calculating, and cruel. They never saw me as one of their own. I was the outsider they had tolerated, judged, and quietly hoped would disappear.

And now I understood why. I hadn't been chosen. I had been bought.

I wasn't their Luna. I was a possession. A transaction sealed with ink and cruelty.

Cassian, when he wanted to, could wear the mask of a prince. There were days when he could charm the world, even charm me, into forgetting who he really was beneath the surface. But those days were fleeting. And when the mask cracked, what emerged was a monster that made even nightmares seem merciful.

His remorse was as false as his love. His apologies were poisoned. His affection came wrapped in control.

I had stopped seeing him through the eyes of the girl I once was. Now I saw clearly he was dangerous. Unstable. And worst of all, he believed he loved me.

For years, he had held my parents over me like a blade, knowing that fear would keep me obedient.

But that weapon was gone now.

The truth had torn it from his hands.

The people I had bled to protect, the ones I had wept for and begged him to spare... had sold me. Like an object. Like I was something to be passed off to the highest bidder.

They hadn't loved me. They hadn't cared.

They had traded me for comfort.

And that knowledge freed me.

I no longer owed them loyalty. I owed Cassian nothing. I was done paying for sins that weren't mine.

This time, fear didn't have a hold on me. Guilt had no voice. I wasn't staying.

Because staying meant death. And I wanted to live.

No title, no mate mark, no illusion of power was worth my life. I had to leave. And I had to do it now.

I packed quickly, slipping the bare essentials into a single small bag no clutter, no hint that I was planning to disappear. I knew the packhouse was full of eyes, and many of them belonged to wolves loyal to Cassian. One wrong move, one raised suspicion, and it would all be over before it began.

I took only what I needed to vanish. A small stash of cash from his safe insignificant to a man of his wealth, but enough for me to get out. Far away. Somewhere nameless. Maybe I'd open a little bakery in a town where no one knew me, where no one looked at my mark and asked questions.

And if they did? I had an answer.

"My mate died," I would say.

A lie. But a necessary one. And maybe, one day, it wouldn't be a lie at all. Though knowing Cassian, even death felt like too merciful a fate for him.

My hands didn't shake as I moved. My heart pounded, yes, but my resolve was steel. I had no more room for fear.

The plan was simple: get out of the house. Get to the tree line. Then run. Run until I could breathe.

Freedom was so close now I could almost taste it.

I was twenty-five. No longer the wide-eyed girl who had once believed his promises to change. That girl was long gone. Cassian's lies had killed her slowly, over years of suffering.

But this version of me this woman was done.

I had studied every failure, every misstep, and learned from each one. My plan had been sharpened by pain and trial until there was no room left for error.

Don't reach out to family or friends.

Don't overpack only what you can carry.

Avoid main roads. Use the woods.

Don't speak. Don't stop. Don't look back.

This was my mantra. A whispered prayer. A vow.

And as I moved through the motions every zipper closed, every drawer left untouched I said the words again and again in my head.

Each syllable was a step toward the life I deserved.

A life without chains. Without cruelty. Without him.

This was it.

And I wouldn't waste it.