Chapter 2 The Wolf King’s Kindness
1148 Words
The fire crackled in the hearth.
Lirael stood in Kael’s study, feeling completely out of her depth. Everything here was more expensive than she could ever have imagined—the fur rugs, the crystal chandelier, the walls lined with parchment scrolls. The air was thick with the scent of cedar and old paper, and the warmth made her shiver.
It had been a long time since she had felt such warmth.
Kael walked over to the wardrobe and took out a deep grey cloak.
Wolf’s-fur.
Lirael recognised the fabric—only members of the royal family in the entire Wolf Clan were permitted to wear it. Soft and warm, a single cloak was worth enough to feed an ordinary werewolf for a year.
“Put it on.” Kael handed her the cloak.
Lirael did not take it.
She stared at him. “Why are you helping me?”
Kael’s eyebrows rose slightly, as if he hadn’t expected her to ask that question.
“You are my subject,” he said, his voice as flat as a statement of fact.
“I’m a worthless Omega,” Lirael’s voice was soft, but every word was clear. “The whole pack looks down on me. You’re the Wolf King; you don’t need to care about someone like me.”
Kael was silent for a moment.
The fire in the hearth flickered, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across his face.
“You shouldn’t be treated like this,” he said.
The words were too light. Light as a feather landing on Lirael’s heart, yet heavy enough to take her breath away.
No one had ever said that to her.
No one had ever thought she ‘shouldn’t be treated this way’.
Her hands were trembling. Not from the cold.
‘Take this.’ Kael pushed the cloak towards her.
Lirael reached out and took it.
When her fingertips touched his, a sensation like an electric current shot through her—his body heat was intense; an Alpha’s body heat was always higher than an Omega’s. But her reaction wasn’t just due to the heat.
She took a step back, clutching the cloak to her chest.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice slightly hoarse.
Kael looked at her, something flashing in his grey eyes. It was too quick; Lirael couldn’t make it out.
“Come to my study every evening from now on,” he said.
Lirael froze. “What?”
“I’ll teach you to control your pheromones.”
“Why?”
Kael’s expression remained unchanged. “You are an Omega of the Wolf Clan. You have the right to become stronger.”
Lirael stared at him, trying to find a flaw in his face. But he simply stood there, like a sculpture—cold, hard, perfect, and flawless.
‘Aren’t you afraid of what people might say?’ she asked.
‘Who would dare?’
Two words, spoken casually, yet carrying an undeniable air of authority.
Lirael’s heart skipped a beat.
‘Starting tomorrow evening.’ Kael turned towards his desk, picked up a document, and said, ‘You may go.’
It was a dismissal.
Lirael carried the cloak out of the study and made her way back along the royal corridor. The marble floor was cold, but the cloak in her arms was as warm as a fire.
She returned to the servants’ quarters and pushed open the door.
There was no fire in the room; the walls were damp, and in the corner lay a pile of mouldy straw—that was her bed.
Lirael sat down on the straw and unfolded the cloak.
It was grey, without any pattern. But when her fingers brushed the inside, she felt a raised, textured design.
She turned it over.
It was the Thorn Emblem.
The symbol of the Wolf King’s family.
Within the entire Wolf Clan, only Kael Thorne and his blood kin were permitted to bear this emblem.
Lirael’s fingers lingered on the crest, refusing to move for a long while.
Why had he given this to her?
She recalled every word he had spoken—‘You shouldn’t be treated this way’, ‘You have the right to become stronger’.
She recalled his gaze—cold and sharp, yet tinged with a hint of… what?
Lirael clutched the cloak tightly and curled up in the pile of straw.
She didn’t know why he had helped her.
But she knew one thing—
From this day forward, she would no longer be that worthless Omega who knew only how to kneel.
---
At the same moment.
The Royal Palace, the Wolf King’s Bedchamber.
Kael stood by the window, gazing out at the dark, forbidding Death Canyon in the distance.
The fire in the hearth danced behind him, yet his shadow was long, very long, stretching all the way to the far end of the room.
His fingers unconsciously traced the back of his neck—there was nothing there, yet he always felt as though something was missing.
“She’s more stubborn than I imagined,”
he murmured, his voice fading into the empty room.
He recalled the look on her face when she’d raised her head to look at him. In those deep brown eyes, there was fear, there was wariness, but there was also something else—
stubbornness.
The sort of stubbornness that refuses to die even when trampled into the mud.
Kael closed his eyes.
He didn’t know why he should care about a worthless Omega. There were hundreds of Omegas in the pack, and plenty stronger than her. But she was different.
He couldn’t put his finger on exactly how.
“Wolf King,” came the voice of a servant from outside the door. “Miss Elara requests an audience.”
Kael opened his eyes.
“Let her in.”
The door swung open, and a slender figure stepped inside. Moon-coloured hair, pale blue eyes, a gentle smile playing at the corners of her lips—Elara Moonveil, the most beautiful Omega in the entire pack.
“Kael.” Her voice was like honey. “I heard about what happened today. Did you take that good-for-nothing back to your study?”
Kael frowned. “She’s not a good-for-nothing.”
Elara’s smile froze for a moment before quickly returning. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just worried about you. The whole clan is talking about it…”
“Let them talk.”
Elara took a step closer, reaching out to touch his arm. “Kael, I just…”
“You may leave.”
Kael’s voice was icy.
Elara’s hand froze mid-air. She bit her lip and turned to leave.
The moment she stepped through the door, the gentleness vanished from her face.
In its place was a cold, venomous hatred.
“Lirael Voss.” She murmured the name, as if uttering a curse.
- Writer
