The Wolf Who Could Not Be Silent
700 Words
Kael Nightfell did not move when Lyra Ashbourne left the ceremonial circle.
He stood exactly where he was, shoulders rigid, jaw clenched so tightly it ached. Around him, the pack slowly began to disperse—whispers trailing like smoke, elders exchanging uneasy glances—but none of it reached him.
All Kael could hear was his wolf.
You fool.
The voice thundered through his mind, feral and furious, slamming against the walls of his control.
She is ours.
Kael turned sharply and strode away from the grounds, his boots biting into the earth as though he could outrun the chaos raging inside him. The moment Lyra crossed the boundary, pain tore through his chest—hot, savage, and unforgiving.
He staggered.
The Alpha King caught himself against a tree, fingers digging into the bark as he sucked in a harsh breath. His vision darkened at the edges.
The bond was not gone.
It pulled.
Harder than before.
“She was weak,” Kael growled under his breath, though the words rang hollow even to his own ears. “Wolf-less. Unfit.”
Liar, his wolf snarled. You felt her awaken.
He had.
That was the problem.
For a fleeting moment—right before he spoke the words of rejection—Kael had sensed something ancient stir beneath Lyra’s skin. A power that made even his Alpha blood recoil in instinctive fear.
The prophecy.
His hands curled into fists.
The elders had warned him. A Moonborn Queen would rise—one whose power could unseat every Alpha, shatter the hierarchy, and drown the packs in chaos.
If she bonds to you, they had said, you will fall with her.
Kael had chosen his crown.
But the moon was not finished with him.
A wave of agony ripped through his chest, forcing a raw sound from his throat. His wolf surged forward, slamming against his control, desperate and enraged.
Go to her.
“No,” Kael hissed. “It’s too late.”
She is dying.
The words hit like a blow.
Kael straightened abruptly, his breath coming fast. The bond flared, burning hot, then twisted—warping into something darker, heavier.
Alive.
“She crossed the boundary,” Kael muttered, realization sinking in. “I felt it.”
Fear—sharp and unwelcome—cut through him.
If Lyra died, the bond would tear him apart from the inside. Rejection did not sever fate. It only wounded it.
And wounded bonds were dangerous.
Kael turned and headed for the council chambers.
The elders were waiting.
They stood in a semicircle as Kael entered, faces pale, eyes wary. Elder Morwen stepped forward, her expression grim.
“You felt it,” she said. “Didn’t you?”
“She’s alive,” Kael replied coldly. “For now.”
Morwen’s lips thinned. “That should not be possible.”
Kael’s eyes burned. “Then explain why my wolf is tearing me apart.”
Silence fell.
Finally, another elder spoke. “The boundary stone awakened.”
Morwen nodded slowly. “Only one bloodline can do that.”
Kael’s stomach dropped.
“The Moonborn,” he said.
“Yes.”
The word echoed like a death sentence.
“You told me rejecting her would end this,” Kael snapped. “You said it would protect the packs.”
Morwen met his gaze, unflinching. “We told you what we hoped.”
Rage coiled tightly in his chest. “Where is she?”
Morwen hesitated.
“Beyond our reach,” she admitted. “For now.”
Kael turned away, fury and regret warring inside him. His wolf howled, raw and unrelenting.
Find her.
Kael’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “I will.”
Far beyond Nightfell territory, Lyra Ashbourne lay unconscious in the back seat of a black SUV as it sped through the sleeping city.
Her skin glowed faintly in the darkness, silver-black veins of light pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
Darius Vane watched her from the driver’s seat, his golden eyes narrowing.
“So,” he murmured, a slow smile touching his lips. “The Moonborn Queen has finally awakened.”
The road stretched ahead of them, dark and endless.
And fate tightened its grip.
- Writer
