CHAPTER 5
1267 Words
KAEL'S POV
She opened the journal.
I knew she would.
The moment I handed it to her, I saw the curiosity flare in her eyes, glowing brighter than her fear. Mira was a moth drawn to flame. And unfortunately for both of us, that flame would burn her alive if she got too close.
By morning, her scent had changed.
I could smell the shift in her thoughts—confusion laced with dread, sharpened by questions she was too stubborn to bury. She was afraid. But not afraid enough.
Not yet.
The pack stirred at the edge of the woods. Their hunger pulsed like a heartbeat beneath the soil. The longer she remained here, unmarked, unclaimed, untouched, the more their instincts would sharpen. Not even Madra’s silent glares or my commands would hold them back forever.
And if one of them touched her...
I clenched my fist so hard I cracked the wooden armrest of my chair.
That afternoon, a raven landed outside the study window.
Three knocks of its beak against the glass. Then it stared at me with its ink-dark eyes.
A summons.
I stood slowly, walking through the hall, ignoring the curious whispers that followed me like dust.
Down to the cellar, past the old iron door, and into the stone room hidden beneath the mansion—the Meeting Hall. The air was thick with the scent of earth, smoke, and old power. Seven figures waited for me in a circle lit by fire-torches. My council.
“Alpha,” said Rowan, the oldest. His beard was gray, but his wolf still moved fast enough to snap a deer’s neck. “There is unrest.”
I knew what he meant before he said it.
“She is not one of us,” said Tyra, her eyes cold. You refuse to mark her. Yet you’ve claimed her as your own.”
“She is here under a pact,” I said calmly. “She is under my protection.”
“She weakens you,” another voice said—Varric. Young, wild, cruel. “Your scent changes when she’s near. We all smell it.”
I met his eyes. “You’d like to challenge me, Varric?”
Silence.
Then a slight bow.
Not today, then.
“She has read the journal,” Rowan said softly. “She’ll know soon.”
“She knows nothing,” I said. “Not yet.”
Tyra stepped forward. “She is waking something in you, Kael. The last time this happened—”
“I remember,” I snapped. “Don’t finish that sentence.”
The fire cracked between us.
They wanted to test me. They wanted me to shift. Show teeth. Bare claws. That was the language they respected.
But I was still in control.
For now.
I returned to the mansion after sunset.
The first thing I did was check her door.
Her scent lingered, warm and curious, like sunlight through autumn leaves. She hadn’t left her room.
But she had heard it.
The whispering at her door wasn’t a hallucination. One of the pack had come too close. Too bold.
I’d given a command: leave her untouched.
Now someone had broken that command.
They needed reminding.
The full moon was three nights away, but already I felt the pull in my bones. My skin itched. My jaw ached. The wolf beneath wanted out.
So I gave it what it wanted.
I ran.
Through the forest, faster than any living thing. Wind howled in my ears. Trees blurred past in streaks of green and shadow.
I shifted mid-step.
The pain was electric. Beautiful.
Bones cracked. Skin tore. Fur exploded across my back.
And then I wasn’t Kael anymore.
I was Alpha.
The moon was low, but the pack gathered quickly. Nine wolves in total—some gray, some black, some reddish like dying coals.
I didn’t speak.
I just circled them.
Sniffing.
Waiting.
Then I found it.
One scent too close to hers. One wolf too daring.
Varric.
I didn’t wait.
I lunged.
He shifted to fight, but I was already on him. We rolled across the earth in a blur of claws and snarling. He bit at my shoulder. I sank my fangs into his neck.
Pinned him.
Dominance.
The others howled as I stood over him.
Mine.
She is mine.
Touch her again, and you die.
The message was clear.
I shifted back slowly, breathing hard, naked and steaming in the cold. The others dispersed without a word.
Varric limped into the trees, bleeding and humbled.
I stayed behind, staring at the moonlight slicing through the canopy.
Mira had made me weak.
No.
She had made me remember.
That night, I stood outside her door.
I didn’t knock. Didn’t speak.
Just listened.
She was asleep. Breathing steady. But her dreams were not quiet. I could hear her murmuring, twisting under the blankets.
My name escaped her lips.
Not in fear.
But in longing.
I pressed my forehead against the door and closed my eyes.
No one had said my name like that in years.
By morning, I hadn’t slept. Not that it mattered. I rarely did.
Madra brought news.
“She’s asking about the curse.”
I sighed. “Of course she is.”
“She thinks the journal tells the whole truth.”
“It doesn’t.”
“She’ll go looking for the rest,” Madra warned. “Just like Anna did.”
Anna.
I hated that name.
“She won’t end up like her,” I said.
Madra narrowed her eyes. “And how can you be sure?”
Because this time I wouldn’t make the same mistake.
Later, I found Mira in the library.
She was curled on one of the sofas, barefoot, hair a mess, the journal beside her. She didn’t look up when I entered.
“You lied,” she said softly.
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t tell me everything. That’s the same thing.”
I stood by the shelves, hands in my coat pockets. “Some truths rot when spoken aloud.”
“Then write them.”
“I have.”
She looked up.
I met her gaze.
“The rest of the truth is in my study,” I said. “In the black journal locked in the top drawer.”
Her breath caught.
“I’ll leave it open tonight,” I said. “You can read it. But only once.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you’ll never understand what this place is. Or what I am.”
She stood slowly.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Why me?”
Because you smell like peace and destruction all at once. Because when I look at you, the monster inside me goes quiet for just a second. Because fate doesn’t make mistakes—it makes bargains.
But I only said, “Because you deserve the truth.”
That night, I left the study door unlocked.
I watched from the shadows as she crept in, candle in hand, her fingers trembling as she reached for the black journal.
She hesitated.
Then opened it.
I turned and walked away before I could see her face.
Because the words in that book were mine.
Because they told the story I never wanted her to read.
Because if she made it to the last page, she’d know the one thing that might destroy everything between us:
That she wasn’t sent here by chance.
That her bloodline is the key to the curse.
And that I’ve been waiting for her longer than she’s been alive.
- Writer
