THE ROGUE KING'S WOLFLESS OMEGA

Chapter 2: Secrets Beneath the Moon

Garrick did not release Elara until the sacred grounds had emptied.

He stood between her and the rest of their family, one hand resting on his black cane, the other gripping her shoulder as though he expected someone to drag her away.

Perhaps he did.

Her father had already tried twice.

“This discussion concerns my daughter,” Cassian said, his voice dangerously controlled. “Bring her here.”

“She is standing three paces away from you,” Garrick replied. “If you cannot speak without raising your hand, three paces is as close as you deserve to be.”

Cassian’s jaw hardened.

The resemblance between father and son was unmistakable. Both men had the same broad shoulders, sharp features, and commanding gray eyes. But where age had softened Garrick’s anger into something disciplined, Cassian wore his fury like armor.

“You undermined me in front of my warriors.”

“You struck a defenseless girl in front of them.”

“She attacked her sister.”

“I did not,” Elara said.

Cassian looked at her at last. “Did I give you permission to speak?”

“No. But since everyone is discussing what I supposedly did, I thought the truth might be useful.”

Helena’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your tone.”

Elara almost lowered her head.

Obedience had become instinctive after years of punishment. Apologize quickly. Speak softly. Never stare too long into an Alpha’s eyes.

Tonight, however, the image of those enormous white eyes remained burned into her mind.

Not yet.

The memory gave her enough courage to keep her chin raised.

“My tone isn’t the problem,” Elara said. “Selene lied.”

Selene stood beside their mother with one hand still resting theatrically against Helena’s arm. She had abandoned her false limp, but faint tears continued to glitter on her lashes.

She had always been able to cry beautifully.

Elara cried with a red nose, swollen eyes, and breaths that came out in embarrassing hiccups. Selene shed silent tears that clung to her lashes like jewels.

It was hardly surprising that everyone preferred hers.

“I told Father it was an accident,” Selene said.

“You told him I pushed you.”

“I said you didn’t mean to.”

“I never touched you.”

“Elara, please.” Selene pressed a hand over her heart. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“From what? The truth?”

“From yourself.”

A low growl vibrated in Elara’s throat.

Everyone froze.

Elara did too.

She had made angry sounds before—small, unimpressive things that usually earned laughter from the other wolves. But this growl was different. It came from somewhere beneath her human voice, deep enough to stir the cold air around them.

Selene’s face went pale.

Cassian stepped forward. “What was that?”

Elara touched her throat.

“I don’t know.”

Garrick’s fingers tightened around her shoulder.

Helena recovered first. “It was nothing. A human can imitate a growl.”

“That didn’t sound human,” Selene whispered.

For once, there was no performance in her voice.

She was afraid.

The realization sent a strange pulse of satisfaction through Elara.

Her sister had spent years making her afraid. Afraid to enter a room. Afraid to defend herself. Afraid that any happiness she found would be taken away the moment Selene noticed it.

Seeing fear in Selene’s eyes should have made Elara ashamed.

It did not.

Garrick tapped his cane against the ground. “The night is cold, and Elara has endured enough. She is coming home with me.”

“No,” Cassian said.

The single word carried the command of an Alpha.

Elara’s body reacted before her mind could resist. Her shoulders bent. Her knees weakened. Pack authority pressed against her like an invisible hand, demanding submission.

Then heat flashed inside her chest.

The pressure vanished.

She straightened.

Cassian stared at her.

Garrick looked even more concerned.

“You will return to the Vale residence,” Cassian continued. “You will remain in your room until I decide what must be done.”

“She will stay in the eastern house,” Garrick said.

“You do not command this family anymore.”

“I built this family.”

“And then you surrendered it.”

A shadow passed over Garrick’s face.

Elara knew what her father meant.

Garrick had not merely retired after his mate died. He had fallen apart. The Iron Alpha who once ended border wars with a single order had disappeared behind locked doors for nearly a year. By the time he emerged, his hair had turned white and his hands had begun to shake.

Cassian had already taken his place.

Garrick looked at his son for a long moment.

“I surrendered the title,” he said. “Not my right to protect my granddaughter.”

“She needs discipline, not protection.”

“She needs both parents to stop treating her existence like an insult.”

Helena inhaled sharply. “That is unfair.”

“Is it?”

“I have done everything expected of me.”

Garrick gave a humorless laugh. “There lies the problem, Helena. You have done precisely what was expected. Never anything more.”

Color rose in her cheeks.

Selene moved closer to her mother. “Grandfather, there’s no reason to insult her.”

“I do not remember inviting you into this conversation.”

“I’m only defending our mother.”

“Of course you are.” Garrick’s gaze settled on her. “You always know exactly when to appear loyal.”

Selene’s eyes flickered.

Elara noticed.

So did Garrick.

But Cassian stepped between them. “Enough. We will not tear this family apart because Elara failed to awaken.”

“I did not fail,” Elara said.

Every face turned toward her.

The words had left her before she considered them, yet she did not regret them.

Cassian took a slow breath. “You stood beneath the full moon and remained human. What would you call that?”

“A delay.”

“A convenient word.”

“It was the High Priestess’s word.”

“The High Priestess was being merciful.”

“No,” Garrick said. “She was being cautious.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know?”

“More than I can prove.”

“Then say it.”

“When I have proof.”

Elara looked up at him. “You said my wolf is being held back.”

Silence fell again.

Garrick closed his eyes briefly.

She realized too late that he had whispered the revelation because he had not wanted anyone else to hear it.

Cassian seized upon her words. “Held back by whom?”

“I don’t know,” Elara admitted.

“You heard a voice,” Garrick reminded her. “You did not confirm that it belonged to your wolf.”

“But you believe it did.”

“I believe something answered you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Helena asked.

Garrick turned toward the broken altar. “It means tonight’s ceremony revealed something we do not understand. Until we do, no one outside this family must learn what Elara heard.”

Selene folded her arms. “The entire pack saw the light.”

“They saw an unexplainable event. Wolves invent answers when none are given. By sunrise, half the pack will believe Elara has been blessed by the Goddess. The other half will claim she summoned a demon.”

Elara glanced at the cracked stone.

“Which do you believe?”

Garrick’s expression softened. “I believe you are my granddaughter.”

It was not an answer.

But it was enough to make her throat tighten.

Cassian did not share the sentiment.

“She will return to the main house,” he said. “We will speak privately.”

Garrick opened his mouth.

Elara touched his arm.

“It’s all right.”

“It is not.”

“You’re tired.”

“I am old, not helpless.”

“You nearly fell on the stairs.”

His expression turned offended. “I slipped.”

“You were using a cane.”

“Clever invention. Very difficult to master.”

Despite everything, a small laugh escaped her.

Garrick smiled.

Then a cough seized him.

It bent him forward violently. His hand flew to his chest as his cane slipped against the stone.

“Grandfather!”

Elara caught him before he fell.

The coughing worsened. Each harsh breath seemed to tear through him. A dark stain appeared on the white handkerchief he pressed to his mouth.

Blood.

Elara’s fear swept everything else away.

“You need the healer.”

“I need my bed,” Garrick rasped.

“You’re bleeding.”

“I have done that before. It is terribly inconvenient, but rarely fatal.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“Most things are, if one survives long enough.”

Elara wrapped his arm over her shoulders. “I’m taking you home.”

Garrick was too breathless to argue.

As she led him toward the path, Cassian called after them.

“Elara.”

She stopped but did not turn.

“You will report to the Moon Hall at dawn,” he said. “The offering ceremony must proceed despite tonight’s embarrassment. You will help your sister prepare it.”

Selene smiled behind him.

Elara saw it in the corner of her eye.

“Why me?”

“Because Selene has ceremonial duties, and you will make yourself useful.”

“She doesn’t need me.”

“That was not a request.”

Garrick leaned more heavily against her.

Elara wanted to refuse. She wanted to tell her father exactly what he could do with his order.

But the tremors running through her grandfather’s body frightened her more than another morning with Selene.

“Fine,” she said. “At dawn.”

The eastern house sat behind the main Vale residence, half hidden by ancient cedar trees.

It had once belonged to Garrick and his mate, Adelaide. After her death, he refused to live in the enormous stone mansion where every corridor reminded him of her. He moved into the smaller house and left the Alpha residence to Cassian.

Elara had spent more nights in the eastern house than in her own room.

Here, she was allowed to read during meals. She could walk barefoot, speak without permission, and laugh loudly enough to shake the windows.

Tonight, the house felt colder than usual.

Garrick waved away her attempt to call a healer.

“I have medicine.”

“Medicine that isn’t working.”

“It works when I remember to take it.”

Elara stopped beside the cabinet. “You forgot?”

“Once or twice.”

She found five unopened bottles.

“Grandfather.”

“Perhaps several times.”

“All of these are full.”

“I dislike the taste.”

“They’re medicine. They aren’t supposed to taste like honey cakes.”

“A failure of imagination on the healer’s part.”

Elara turned and glared at him.

Garrick was seated beside the fireplace, wrapped in a thick robe. The flames painted his hollow cheeks in shades of gold and shadow. He looked smaller than he had at the sacred grounds.

Too small.

Too fragile.

Fear tightened around her heart.

“You’re getting worse.”

“I am getting older.”

“You’re sixty-three.”

“Ancient.”

“Alpha Morven is eighty-one. He still wrestles his grandchildren.”

“His grandchildren are irritating. I understand the urge.”

She carried a bottle and glass of water to him. “Drink.”

“Elara—”

“All of it.”

His eyebrows rose.

“You sound like your grandmother.”

“Good. Maybe now you’ll listen.”

“I rarely listened to her.”

“And that is why she threw a chair at you during your mating ceremony.”

Garrick smiled faintly. “You remember that story?”

“You tell it every year.”

“It was a small chair.”

“It broke a window.”

“The window was poorly made.”

Elara handed him the medicine.

After a brief battle of wills, he drank it.

His face twisted. “That is vile.”

“Good.”

“Cruel child.”

“You raised me.”

His smile faded.

“No,” he said quietly. “Not as much as I should have.”

Elara sat across from him. “You were always there.”

“I was grieving.”

“You loved Grandmother.”

“That does not excuse the years I spent hiding from the living.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me.”

“Perhaps I do.”

Before Elara could respond, another cough shook him. He turned his face away, but she still saw the red stain spreading across his handkerchief.

“Let me call Mira.”

“The healer will only tell me to rest.”

“Then rest.”

“I need to tell you something first.”

Elara moved closer.

Garrick stared into the fire. For several seconds, the only sound was the crackling wood.

“When you were born,” he began, “there was a storm unlike any I had seen. The sky was clear, but thunder shook the mountains. Every wolf in Silvercrest woke at the same moment and ran toward this house.”

Elara frowned. “I was born in the eastern house?”

“Yes.”

“Mother said I was born in the pack infirmary.”

“Helena says many things.”

The bitterness in his voice startled her.

“Why would she lie?”

“To keep you from asking questions.”

“What questions?”

Garrick reached beneath his robe and pulled out a thin silver chain. Hanging from it was a small crescent-shaped key.

He placed it in Elara’s palm.

It was warm despite the cold room.

“The night you were born, a woman came to Silvercrest.”

“What woman?”

“She was wounded. Hunted. She carried you through a blizzard that did not exist anywhere except the path behind her.”

Elara stared at him.

“You’re saying Mother didn’t give birth to me.”

Garrick’s silence answered first.

Her fingers closed around the key.

“That’s not possible.”

“It is.”

“No.” She stood so quickly that the chair scraped across the floor. “I look like Father.”

“You have his eyes.”

“Then she is my mother.”

“Blood is more complicated than that.”

“What does that mean?”

“I cannot tell you yet.”

Anger flared through her fear. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Elara—”

“Not yet. When I have proof. When you’re older. When the time is right.” She stepped away from him. “My entire life has been one long wait for people to decide I deserve the truth.”

“I am trying to keep you alive.”

“By lying to me?”

“By keeping promises I made before you could speak.”

“To whom?”

“The woman who brought you here.”

“Who was she?”

Garrick’s gaze dropped to the crescent key.

“Her name was Seraphine.”

The moment he spoke the name, the fire surged.

White flames rose inside the hearth.

Elara stumbled backward.

Garrick sprang from his chair with a speed that did not belong to a dying man. He seized her wrist and dragged her away from the fireplace.

The white flames twisted into the shape of a wolf.

Enormous paws formed first, followed by a narrow muzzle and two blazing eyes. The creature lowered its head toward Elara.

Find me.

The voice moved through her mind.

Then the fire went out.

Darkness swallowed the room.

Elara stood frozen, her grandfather’s fingers locked around her wrist.

“You heard that,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“What was it?”

Garrick released her.

“A warning that I have waited too long.”

Before he could explain, someone knocked at the door.

Three slow knocks.

Then two quick ones.

Garrick’s face changed.

“What?”

He reached for his cane, but this time Elara saw what he did with the handle. His thumb pressed against the carved wolf’s head, releasing a hidden blade from the bottom.

“Stand behind me.”

“You can barely breathe.”

“I can breathe long enough to kill someone.”

The knock came again.

Three slow. Two quick.

Garrick approached the door.

“Who walks beneath a moonless sky?” he called.

A woman answered from outside.

“One who remembers the stars.”

Garrick lowered the blade.

He opened the door.

High Priestess Mariel stood on the porch, dressed in a dark traveling cloak. No guards accompanied her.

She entered without waiting for an invitation.

“The altar stone was not broken by force,” she said.

Garrick shut the door. “Then what broke it?”

“Something beneath it.”

Elara stared at her. “There’s something beneath the altar?”

“There was.” Mariel removed a black cloth from inside her cloak. “I found this buried under the ceremonial circle.”

She unfolded the cloth on Garrick’s table.

A shard of black stone lay within it. Strange symbols had been carved across its surface. Although the fireplace was cold, smoke rose from the object.

Elara stepped closer.

Pain pierced her chest.

The wall inside her mind appeared again.

Chains groaned beyond it.

Garrick pulled her back.

“What is that?” Elara asked.

“A binding stone,” Mariel said. “One designed to suppress a supernatural spirit.”

“My wolf.”

“Possibly.”

“Who put it there?”

Mariel exchanged a grim look with Garrick.

“Someone who knew where you would stand tonight.”