Bonded by moonfire

The weight of silence

Morning came with the toll of the warhorn, calling the pack to gather. Kieran rose with commanding presence, every inch the Alpha, while Elias dressed quietly at his side, his thoughts a storm.

The courtyard buzzed with tension. Scouts reported rogue movements at the borders, and Kieran’s voice thundered as he issued orders. Elias stood at his right, the place reserved for his Beta—and his mate. But every time Toren’s eyes flicked toward him, Elias felt the weight of the night before.

When the gathering dispersed, Kieran turned to him, concern softening his features. “You’re distracted,” he said. “Talk to me.”

Elias swallowed. His tongue burned with the truth—they’re plotting against you, against us. But the words caught in his throat. If he spoke too soon, without proof, he’d only confirm their whispers that he was sowing division.

“I’m just… tired,” Elias said instead, forcing a smile.

Kieran cupped his jaw, searching his eyes. “You don’t have to carry anything alone, you know.”

The tenderness in his voice cut deeper than any blade. Elias leaned into the touch, nodding though guilt coiled tighter in his chest.

Later, when the Alpha’s hall grew quiet, Elias slipped away again. He found himself drawn to the training grounds, where the warriors’ discarded weapons gleamed under the moonlight. He picked up a blade, running his fingers over its edge.

“You don’t trust them either, do you?” a voice asked from the shadows.

Elias spun, blade raised, only to find a younger warrior—Liora, barely out of her first shift. Her eyes were bright, full of conviction.

“You sense it,” she continued, stepping closer. “Something rotten is growing in the pack.”

Elias’s heart raced. He lowered the blade but kept his voice cautious. “And what do you think should be done about it?”

Liora glanced around before whispering, “Stay close to the Alpha. Some wolves would rather see him broken than see him with you.”

Her warning rang with truth. Elias clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to march straight to Kieran and confess everything. Instead, he only nodded.

That night, as Kieran pulled him close in their bed, Elias lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His silence felt heavier than chains. He wasn’t protecting Kieran—he was lying to him.

And lies, Elias knew, had the sharpest teeth of all.