~Aethelia~
Two months ago, Kael carried me through rain and blood.
Since then, he has not left my shadow once.
If I walk, he walks close. If I train, he watches. If I leave the hall, I feel his eyes between my shoulders.
I don't understand it.
Why would someone like him stay near someone like me?
Before, we passed like strangers. A nod. A greeting. Then something shifted.
Now when our eyes meet, my chest tightens. My wolf stirs low in my ribs. His jaw locks like he is holding something dangerous inside.
The tiny circle at my neck cools when he is near.
No healer ever spoke of that.
This morning, he appeared at the training ground.
I tell myself he is here on patrol.
But I know he also came for me.
He does not join the drills. He walks straight to the small room beside the yard where the elite warriors meet with the Gamma. The door shuts. Low voices bleed through the wood anyway.
I force myself to focus.
Strike. Block.
Strike again.
The impact jars up my arms. Sweat runs down my spine. My grip slips, tightens, slips again.
"Aethelia."
I turn.
Saria stands behind me.
Senior warrior. My cousin. Tall. Controlled. The kind of strength that makes others move without being told.
"The training's almost done," she says.
Her gaze flicks to the closed door.
"I've noticed our unmated Alpha taking an interest in you."
My fingers tighten around the sword.
"It's not like that."
Her head tilts slightly.
"Do you know how much Kael means to me?" she asks. "How long have I imagined standing beside him?"
She steps closer to me.
"You think you can take that from me?"
"My Senior," I say quietly, "he only speaks with me. That is all."
She studies my face. Too closely.
Her hand rises.
Slow. Measured.
For a heartbeat, I think she will only point.
Then her fingers close around my throat.
The world snaps tight.
The air disappears.
My sword slips from my hand. My back slams into the post. Wood bites into my spine. Her grip tightens.
The tiny circle flares—heat, then a violent pulse.
My vision flickers.
Warriors gather. Boots scrape. Breath shifts.
"Cursed wolf," someone whispers.
"Traitor."
The word lands deeper.
My best friend Ardis pushes forward.
"No," she says, voice shaking. "She is not a traitor. She is innocent."
Saria does not even glance at her.
"Close your mouth."
Ardis stops. Falls back.
Saria tightens her grip.
Pain blooms sharp and bright. My lungs claw for air that is not there.
I grab her wrist. My fingers feel weak. Useless.
She leans closer. Her breath is warm against my skin.
"If you are not a traitor," she whispers, "then explain this."
Her nails press deeper.
"Every time the attackers come, they destroy the pack. They take you with others."
Her voice drops.
"And every time… they let you go. Others are detained."
A ripple moves through the watching warriors. I feel it like a shift in the ground.
"That means you know something."
Heat surges through me. Rage. Shame. Fear.
I want to strike her.
My body will not answer.
Her grip tightens again.
"The Alpha is bound by prophecy. The Moon Goddess would never choose someone like you."
Her eyes drag over me.
"Someone like me, perhaps."
Her fingers press harder.
"Stay away from him."
My lungs scream.
My wolf surges forward, claws scraping inside my chest. The mark throbs in time with my pulse.
Why is this life so cruel?
She once defended me. Now she wants me erased.
Then—
"How dare you touch her?"
The voice cuts clean through everything.
Saria's grip loosens.
I collapse to my knees. Air tears into my lungs, sharp, burning. I choke on it.
Boots crunch against dirt.
Kael.
He walks toward us. Slow. Controlled.
His eyes find the marks on my throat.
Something in his face hardens into stone.
"My Alpha," Saria says quickly. "We were only playing."
"Playing?"
The word is quiet. Dangerous.
"Kneel."
It lands like weight.
Saria hesitates. Then she kneels. Dust lifts around her.
"I'm sorry," she says to me. "It will not happen again."
Kael does not look at her.
He looks at me. At my throat.
"The law protects the innocent," he says. "It does not protect envy."
A beat.
"Next time, I will not be patient."
Saria bows her head.
But before she lowers her gaze, she looks at me.
No apology.
Only a promise of worse.
"Training is over," Kael says.
His voice carries across the yard.
"Prepare for the Unmated Ladies Ritual tonight."
The crowd breaks. No one meets my eyes.
Kael steps closer.
"Can you stand?"
I nod. My legs tremble anyway.
He offers his hand. I take it. Warm. Firm. Certain.
He lifts me onto his horse and mounts behind me. No guards follow. We ride in silence.
The wind cools my skin. His chest is steady against my back. The rhythm of the horse pulls my breathing back into place.
"I cannot explain it," he says at last.
His voice is low.
"When I see you… something answers."
A pause.
"Something old."
My breath catches. Kora stirs. Awake. Listening.
"I feel it too," I whisper. "My body knows before I do."
His arms tighten slightly.
"If the Moon Goddess names you mine—"
My pulse stumbles.
"—I will accept it."
Silence presses in.
"If she does not…" His voice roughens near my ear.
"Then I will decide which law truly governs me."
The words settle deep. Heavy. Dangerous.
I do not trust what lives under my skin.
Or what it is waking in him.
We reach Orla's house.
He helps me down. Slowly. Carefully.
He does not step back. His hand rises to my cheek. Warm. Gentle. Avoiding the mark.
His eyes search mine like he is looking for something he cannot name.
He leans closer.
The tiny circle cools instantly. Relief spreads through me, soft and wrong.
He stops inches away.
Something pulls tight between us. Thin. Invisible.
Kora trembles. Not fear. Recognition.
His wolf answers. I feel it—low, sharp, undeniable.
Then his body jerks. A thin line of blood slips from his nose.
The thread snaps.
He presses a hand to his chest.
Pain echoes under my ribs, sudden and sharp.
"Sorry," he breathes.
"Sorry," I whisper.
He glances around the yard as if checking for watchers.
Why does he bleed for me?
"It only happens when you're near," he says.
My heart pounds harder.
I never told him that.
He mounts his horse.
"We will meet tonight."
Then he is gone again.
I stay where I am until the sound of hooves fades.
Hello, Kora.
Silence. Then—
I am here.
"Why did you tremble?"
"I don't know," she says. "Something reached for us."
A pause.
"Something old. Important. Or dangerous."
A knot tightens in my stomach.
"You just turned eighteen," she adds softly. "We are waking."
I step inside the house.
Orla crosses the room before I can turn.
She takes my hands.
"I saw," she says softly. "Through the window."
Heat rises in my chest.
"You watched?"
She smiles faintly.
"Do you love him?"
The question hits like cold water.
"I… feel something," I admit. "My body answers him before my mind does."
"And that scares you."
"Yes."
My voice drops.
"He deserves someone better. If I stand beside him, I will ruin him."
Orla squeezes my hands.
"You did not choose what happened to you," she says gently.
"You are one of us."
My throat tightens.
"Maybe the Moon knows something you don't," she says.
Her words linger.
"And if not," she says softly, "hold this moment while you can."
She hugs me quickly.
Too quickly.
I let myself lean into it anyway.
Hours pass.
Torches move through the Central Courtyard. Smoke drifts into the night air.
I stand at the edge of the square. The air feels wrong. Too thin.
The moon hangs high. Watching.
Kora stirs. "Something is wrong."
A cold wind brushes my neck.
Drums begin. Slow. Heavy.
My heartbeat falls into rhythm with them.
"It's not the new moon," I whisper.
"No," Kora says.
A pause.
"But something is opening."
At the gate, Orla stands still, watching the road. Waiting.
The moon flickers. Once.
Kora goes silent. Not fading—
Gone.
A cold shiver slides down my spine.
And for the first time, I feel it clearly—
Something is already inside the ritual.
Waiting for us.