Chapter Seven – The Broken Bond
1100 Words
The next morning, Elara moved through the infirmary as if nothing had happened. She cleaned wounds, changed bandages, and mixed remedies with steady hands. But inside, her heart still echoed with Kaelen’s words.
My claimed one.
She tried to shake it off. She tried to bury it. But every time she closed her eyes, she heard his voice again, deep and certain, wrapping around her like a chain she couldn’t break.
The whispers hadn’t stopped either. If anything, they had grown louder.
“She bewitched him. Must have.”
“No Omega deserves the Alpha King.”
“She’s trouble. Mark my words.”
Elara ignored them, her face calm. She had learned long ago not to give the pack the satisfaction of seeing her break. But deep inside, the old wounds Lysander had left behind had reopened, raw and bleeding.
By evening, she left the infirmary exhausted. She wanted only her cottage, her bed, and silence. But when she reached her door, he was there again.
Kaelen.
He leaned against the wooden frame, arms crossed, golden eyes glinting in the fading light.
Her heart stuttered, but she forced her voice steady. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I told you,” he said quietly, “I go where I want.”
Elara clenched her jaw. “Then go somewhere else.”
Kaelen pushed off the wall and stepped closer. “Not until you listen.”
Her chest tightened. She tried to slip past him into her cottage, but he caught her wrist gently, firm enough to stop her without hurting.
“Elara,” he said, his voice low, “look at me.”
Reluctantly, she raised her eyes.
Kaelen studied her face for a long moment, then spoke softly. “What he did to you… I heard it in your voice yesterday. He broke something in you. But I’m not him.”
Her breath caught, anger and pain twisting inside her. “You don’t understand,” she whispered fiercely. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see how he stood in front of the whole pack, how he called me weak, how he threw me aside like I was nothing.”
Her voice cracked, but she didn’t stop. “Do you know what it feels like to have your wolf cry for someone—only to be rejected? To feel your bond tear in two while everyone laughs? To be told you are too small, too useless, too Omega to ever be loved?”
Tears burned her eyes, spilling despite her efforts. “That is what claiming does. It doesn’t heal. It destroys. So don’t you dare stand there and tell me you’re different. Don’t you dare.”
Her chest heaved, her heart pounding painfully.
For a long moment, Kaelen said nothing. His golden eyes were steady, calm, but behind them was something fierce.
Finally, he released her wrist. His hand lifted slowly, almost hesitantly, and brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
“I don’t pity you, Elara,” he said softly. “I don’t see you as weak. And I won’t walk away because others think you’re unworthy. I chose you. My wolf chose you. And I don’t go back on what’s mine.”
Her breath shook. His words should have comforted her, but instead they terrified her.
“Stop saying that,” she whispered. “Stop calling me yours. I don’t want it. I can’t—”
“You can,” Kaelen cut in firmly. “You just don’t believe it yet.”
The next day, the unrest in the pack reached a new peak.
As Elara walked through the courtyard to gather supplies, conversations hushed around her, then started again in sharp whispers.
“She’ll drag us all down.”
“The King’s blinded by lust.”
“What kind of Luna could she ever be?”
One warrior, bolder than the rest, stepped directly into her path. His eyes held open disdain as he sneered, “Careful, Omega. Don’t trip on the crown you’re trying to steal.”
Elara froze, heat rushing to her face.
Before she could respond, a shadow fell over them both. Kaelen.
The warrior stiffened under the King’s gaze, but Kaelen’s voice was dangerously calm.
“Say it again.”
The courtyard went silent.
The warrior swallowed hard, looking at the ground. “Forgive me, my King. I spoke out of turn.”
“Out of turn?” Kaelen’s tone dropped, cold as steel. “You insulted what is mine.”
Golden eyes flared, and the warrior dropped to his knees, trembling under the Alpha King’s aura. The silence was suffocating, the pack staring, no one daring to move.
Finally, Kaelen said, “Let this be a lesson. Question me again, and you’ll answer with blood.”
The warrior stammered apologies. Kaelen turned away, dismissing him with a flick of his hand, then looked at Elara.
Her heart thundered. He had defended her—openly, powerfully—but it only made the whispers louder in her own mind.
*What if he changes his mind? What if one day he casts me aside like Lysander?*
The fear gripped her tighter than ever.
That night, Kaelen came to her cottage again. This time, Elara didn’t fight him when he stepped inside. She was too tired, too torn.
He looked around her small space once more, then sat at her table, waiting. “Sit with me,” he said.
She hesitated, then slowly lowered herself into the chair across from him.
For a long time, they sat in silence, the air heavy between them. Finally, Kaelen spoke.
“They don’t see you. Not really. They look at your rank, your past, and they think that defines you. But I see something else.”
Elara’s voice was quiet, bitter. “What do you see, Kaelen? Tell me.”
His eyes locked onto hers, steady and unwavering. “I see a woman who stood after she was broken. I see a healer who holds a pack together while they spit on her name. I see strength no one else is brave enough to recognize.”
Her throat tightened.
“And one day,” Kaelen continued, his voice dropping lower, “they will see it too. Because I will make them.”
Elara’s heart ached, torn between the walls she had built and the longing she buried deep inside.
She wanted to believe him. She wanted it more than she had wanted anything in years. But belief was dangerous. It had burned her once.
And she wasn’t sure she could survive being burned again.
- Writer
