Chapter 15

Chapter 15 – The Alpha’s Doubt

The training yard rang with the clang of steel and the guttural growls of wolves testing their strength. Dust swirled under booted feet, the sharp scent of sweat and blood hanging heavy in the air. Blades struck, shields splintered, commands were barked and obeyed.

To any outsider, it would have looked like discipline. Unity. Strength.

But Kael saw the fractures.

He stood at the edge of the yard, golden eyes sweeping over his warriors, and though their forms were sharp and their stances true, he could feel it—that subtle, poisonous silence that lurked beneath the noise. Obedience on the surface, doubt festering underneath.

Their gazes betrayed them.

A young warrior’s eyes darted not toward his opponent but toward the packhouse balcony, where Aria sometimes lingered to watch. Another, caught staring too long, flinched when Kael’s gaze met his and quickly looked away, shame written across his face. Others shifted their weight uneasily, their movements crisp yet their hearts uncertain.

Wolves did not follow an Alpha with their eyes cast down.

Kael’s jaw tightened. He barked a final command, cutting the sparring short, and the yard stilled with surprise. Warriors glanced at each other, unsettled, but none dared question him aloud.

“Enough for today,” he said, his tone clipped as a blade. “Go.”

They dispersed, whispers trailing behind them like smoke.

Kael turned on his heel and strode back through the corridors of the packhouse, each step heavy with the disquiet clawing at his chest. He passed guards who stiffened under his gaze, servants who lowered their eyes and pressed themselves against the walls to give him space. The hallways had always carried his authority. Now, they carried unease.

By the time he entered the council chamber, the air was already thick with ghosts. The torches along the walls burned low, casting long shadows across the scarred table. He could still hear the echoes of the previous night—voices raised, accusations whispered, the taste of suspicion clinging to the wood like ash.

He hadn’t attended. Not because he hadn’t known, but because he hadn’t wanted to hear them say aloud what he already suspected.

Rowan’s voice returned to him nonetheless, sharp as a claw raking across memory: She is not one of us. She is a danger.

Kael shoved the thought aside with a growl. Dangerous? No. Aria was fragile, stubborn, reckless with her questions, yes—but not dangerous. Not in the way Rowan meant.

And yet—

The truth gnawed at him. He had seen her eyes dart to shadows that no one else noticed, her lips press tight as if sealing away words that wanted to escape. He had felt her tremble in his arms while swearing she was “fine,” the thunder of her heartbeat betraying her.

His wolf snarled restlessly beneath his skin, pacing like a caged beast. It didn’t sense dishonesty in her—not entirely—but it scented it everywhere else. The elders. The murmuring warriors. Even Rowan himself, circling closer with every passing day.

Kael sank into his chair at the head of the council table, his palms pressing hard into the scarred wood. For the first time since he had sworn the Alpha’s oath, the weight of leadership did not feel like armor. It felt like chains pulling him apart.

The pack demanded vigilance. Aria demanded trust.

If he faltered, he would lose one.

If he chose wrong, he would lose both.

The heavy doors groaned open. Kael didn’t need to look up to know who entered—the scent of wolf and steel, the steady rhythm of boots that marched without hesitation.

Rowan.

He strode inside with the confidence of a man who believed the chamber belonged to him, bowing only shallowly before Kael. It was the kind of bow meant to remind everyone that submission could also be mockery.

“Alpha,” he said, his voice smooth as oil poured over a blade.

Kael’s golden eyes lifted, burning into him. “Speak your mind, Rowan. Or hold your tongue.”

Rowan’s lips curved into a smile that did not touch his eyes. “It is not my mind you should fear.” His gaze swept deliberately over the table, the walls, the shadows that seemed to lean closer to listen. “It is your pack’s.”

The words landed like ice in Kael’s chest. He did not flinch. Did not rise to the bait. But every muscle coiled, his wolf bristling beneath his skin, ready to rip through Rowan’s smirk with tooth and claw.

Rowan tilted his head, watching him like a predator savoring the tension before the strike. “Doubt spreads quickly, Alpha. You’ve seen it in their eyes. Heard it in their whispers. They question where your loyalty lies—” his smile sharpened, “—with the pack, or with her.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Kael’s claws dug crescents into the wood of his chair, restraint the only thing keeping the chamber intact.

He wanted to snarl that Aria was no threat. That she belonged by his side, no matter what blood ran through her veins. That his loyalty had never faltered.

But the words refused to come. Because even as he tried to silence it, Lucien’s voice slithered back into his mind, dark and mocking: Ask him what your blood is worth.

And Kael, for all his certainty, did not yet know the answer.

Rowan bowed again, shallower still, and turned toward the door. His parting words were a whisper meant to linger like smoke.

“A wolf divided cannot lead.”

The doors shut behind him, leaving Kael alone with his doubts.

The training yard still rang in his ears, the whispers of his warriors pressing closer, suffocating him. His wolf paced and snarled, demanding a choice, demanding clarity.

But Kael sat in silence, torn between the weight of his duty and the pull of the one secret he could not bring himself to name:

That the greatest threat to his pack might not be Lucien, or even Rowan.

It might be the girl he could not let go.