Gray Eyed Wolf (ii)

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains depictions of harassment that may be distressing for some readers. If you feel triggered or unsafe at any point, please skip this chapter and reach out to a trusted friend, counselor, or your local support hotline. If you can't think of anyone, you can reach out to me on my social handles — even if I can’t do much, I will hear you. Stay safe and remember you are your first priority!

The high ceiling of the dining hall echoed with laughter, with firelight gilding along the table stacked with dishes Elara couldn't even name. The air was thick with wine, roasted meat, and smoke. She stood against the wall with the other servants, almost invisible in the dim lights.

The huge marble statues of former Lycan Alphas in their shifted forms, lined above the servant heads, were as awe-inspiring to her as they were daunting. Everything about Duskbane's made her feel intimidated.

“…And then Kaelen disappears for a week only to come back dragging the Rebel Commander’s head.” Luke Acastor, heir to the neighboring Pack, Acastor Moon, leaned back, swirling his goblet. “I swear to God, I saw our unit leader crying with his badge like a widow.”

“And that…” He turned to look at Damian, at the other end of the table being spoon-fed by his mother, and rolled his eyes. “…that Mama’s boy wouldn’t stop sobbing, even swore bloody vengeance on the rebels.”

“Mmhm...?” Damian looked up, forcing down the mouthful and laughing in embarrassment as his mother rubbed his head, beaming at the golden retriever of the pack.

Luna Selene scoffed, skillfully hiding it behind her glass. "Ahem... Really?"

“Yes, you should’ve seen it!” Noah, the South’s golden heir, smacked his palm to the table. “Kaelen looked like he’d crawled out of his grave, wearing nothing but a tattered rag for a loincloth and a bullet we had fired in retaliation!”

“Your unit leader must’ve cried tears of joy, right, baby?” Hayley smiled, her fingers brushing Kaelen’s arm.

The guys guffawed hysterically while Kaelen shook his arm free with a bored flick, not sparing her a glance.

“...What?” She blinked, her smile faltering.

“More like he wanted to strangle him.” Luke snorted. “Imagine how it looks: new recruit walks in and ends the mission on his own? Single-handedly stealing his promotion and thunder in broad daylight.”

“And instead of a medal, they slap him with a suspension. Classic.” Jacob, the pack’s future Beta, added with a scowl.

Hayley and her friends gasped in chorus. 

“That’s awful…” Hayley whispered, knitted brows drawing upward at Kaelen. “How could he do that to him?”

Selene craned her neck proudly. “No surprise he was envious of my brilliant boy.” She frowned, musing aloud. “Though you should have lodged a formal complaint for his behavior.”

“Oh, we did…” someone muttered, half-laughing.

Elara stood stiffly by the wall, fingers locked before her apron. She sighed at the bootlicking. After their two courses were served, they never needed the servants till the dessert. Lycans hated constant interruptions.

They lined them up as just another decoration to flaunt House Duskbane’s wealth.

Her eyes drifted to the man of the hour. Kaelen sat so indifferent that you would assume the whole table was flattering to please someone else. Voices overlapped in eager chatter, all centering on him, the heir to the biggest Lycan Pack around.

Across the same table, Damian and Clara had a whole different vibe. His mother was spoon-feeding while he tried to coax her into eating instead. Despite being on the table, they were in their own separate world.

Even growing up, Elara hadn't seen much of the anomaly in the pack called, Clara. The young woman always stayed cooped up in her little house nestled between the Duskbane's Mansion and the pack house, making her position both skeptical and obvious.

Luke leaned forward, elbow on the table, grin wolfish. “So, Kael… word is you’re getting ringed in a month?”

The table fell silent.

Elara’s eyes dropped at once to Hayley, who was smiling bashfully like a girl caught with a secret.

Kaelen didn’t look up. He carved his meat, chewed, swallowed, then lazily arched a brow at his mother. “Am I?”

For a heartbeat, Elara could’ve sworn his eyes had met hers. She quickly lowered her gaze.

Roars of amusement broke out, fists drumming the table. Hayley flushed scarlet, eyelashes fluttering like moth wings.

“That’s my guy!” Noah barked, slamming his goblet. “Bet he’ll be up all night deleting his side-chicks’ socials the day before the wedding!”

“On that note, now that your girls aren’t around…” Luke grinned shrewdly, “…why don’t you tell us your body count, Kael? How many pelts in that collection, huh?” His beady eyes cut to Hayley, Kaelen's prospective fiancé. “You don’t mind honesty, do you, sweetheart?”

"Uh... I-I..." Caught off-guard, she gaped like a fish, helplessly turning to Luna Selene.

Irked, the matriarch's eyes flashed; she shifted to speak—but the doors slammed open.

Alpha Duskbane strode in.

The air suddenly felt heavier against the room like a stormfront—an aura only an Alpha carried

All rose as he reached the head of the table. Luna Selene, regal in a silver-trimmed gown, offered him a goblet.

“Welcome, future of the Lycan Kingdom.” His voice carried, smooth as steel. He gave a swift nod to Selene; frowning, his searching eyes fell on Damian, trying to stand while Clara fussed to wipe his mouth. Elara could swear she saw a ghost of a smile before he turned back to the table to raise his glass.

“I trust my wife gave you a sufficient welcome while I was at the Alphas’ Conference.”

A round of toasts followed, and the table got busier.

The hall was noisy again, but Elara zoned out the rest with a sigh. Her wandering eyes fell on Kaelen again, who silently commanded the room even with an Alpha present.

Storm-grey eyes, carved features, and a shadowed jawline, his smirk hid a sneer like a blade. Even the way he twirled his glass was pure arrogance. She had heard a million times under the pretty pretense that Lycans were predators, but he made your skin prickle with awareness.

Her breath hitched. Suddenly, his eyes held her hostage—

Pain jolted her out of his trance.

“What?!”

“Elara!” Lily hissed behind her, pointing to the table.

She blinked in astonishment, realizing every eye was on her, not just his.

“Are you deaf, girl? I’ve called you three times.” Luke’s eyes burned into her.

“Huh…?” Heart hammering, she rushed forward to the dishes he pointed at while staring at her blouse that was buttoned to the top.

“Forgive me, Sir.” She bowed her head, her eyes catching his ring on his index finger. 

A wolf head crafted in silver.

Selene narrowed her eyes at the girl before her smooth voice cut the tension, “Now, Luke, tell us more of this training. Did the Commander truly keep you on rations for a week?”

“Ah… yeah.” Luke chuckled, waving Elara on who sighed in relief. “Said discipline sharpens the Lycan, though I swear, we nearly ripped each other’s throats out over stale bread crumbs.”

Laughter rolled again. Relief soaked her bones. She leaned to refill Luke’s plate, praying nothing would spill—

“Ah…!”

A sudden deliberate clutch on her ass had her gasping!