Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Kale

The training grounds were already crowded when I arrived that morning.

Warriors moved across the frozen field in organized formations while the sound of clashing steel echoed through the cold air. Frost coated the packed earth beneath their boots, and thin clouds of breath rose around them as they sparred. Conversations died almost immediately when they noticed me. Some straightened their posture. Others suddenly became very interested in whatever task was directly in front of them.

I ignored all of it.

Fear had always followed me. I preferred it that way.

Fear was predictable. Fear kept wolves cautious. It prevented unnecessary mistakes and even more unnecessary conversations. The downside was that most wolves struggled to distinguish fear from respect, but correcting them had never interested me enough to make the effort.

“You know they’re convinced you’re about to kill someone.”

The familiar voice came from my right.

Without turning, I already knew who it was.

“Then they should focus harder on training.”

Gamma Ingrid stepped into place beside me, her boots crunching against the frost-covered ground. Unlike most wolves in Ashfang, she had never seemed particularly intimidated by me. Years ago I had decided it was either bravery or poor judgment. I still hadn’t settled on which.

“That isn’t what I meant.” She folded her arms and glanced toward the warriors. “You walked out here looking like you’re about to sentence half the territory to execution.”

My gaze finally shifted toward her.

“Execution is a strong word.”

“That is not a denial.”

“Perhaps it should concern you.”

“It really should,” she agreed. “The problem is that I’ve known you too long.”

A laugh almost escaped me.

Almost.

My attention returned to the field just in time to watch one of the younger warriors lose focus after noticing me. His opponent took advantage immediately, sweeping his legs out from under him and sending him crashing into the dirt.

Ingrid sighed dramatically.

“See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“He was distracted.”

“He was distracted because the Alpha was staring at him.”

“Then he should learn not to be distracted.”

The fallen warrior accepted a hand from his opponent and climbed back to his feet.

At least he had enough sense to get up quickly.

Ingrid rubbed her forehead.

“One day I’m going to teach you how normal people interact with each other.”

“Why?”

“So the territory stops thinking you’re terrifying.”

I looked at her.

“They should continue thinking that.”

She shook her head, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously insulting.

The conversation settled into a comfortable silence after that. It was one of the reasons Ingrid remained one of the few people I tolerated. She never felt the need to fill every quiet moment with pointless words.

For several minutes we simply watched the warriors train while snow drifted lazily across the field.

“The northern trade route finally reopened,” Ingrid said eventually.

I nodded.

“The council approved the expansion proposal yesterday.”

“Good.”

“The harvest reports came in this morning too. Better than expected.”

Another nod.

Ingrid stared at me.

I stared back.

She sighed.

“You’re impossible.”

“Now, whatever gave you that idea?” I deadpanned.

“People talk about it. Repeatedly.”

“Only intelligent people, I assume.”

That finally earned a laugh from her.

The sound surprised me more than it should have.

For a brief moment, something inside my chest loosened. The feeling disappeared almost as quickly as it came, but Ingrid noticed. Of course she noticed.

She always did.

I looked away before she could say anything.

The training grounds stretched out below us while the wind carried the familiar scents of Ashfang across the frozen valley. Pine. Smoke. Steel. Wolves. Home.

Everything smelled exactly as it should.

Everything except—

I shut the thought down before it could fully form.

It had been months since Aneira disappeared. Months since I had searched every road leaving Ashfang and exhausted every lead I could find. The anger that had consumed me in those first weeks had long since burned itself out, leaving something quieter behind.

Life had continued.

The territory still needed an Alpha. Patrols still needed organizing. Disputes still needed settling. Crops still needed harvesting.

The world had refused to stop simply because one omega had vanished from it.

So I had adapted.

I had returned to routine because routine required nothing from me except obedience.

Wake up.

Work.

Sleep.

Repeat.

It was simple.

Simple things were easier to survive.

The dining room was warm by the time I finished training.

The rest of the manor was not.

Winter pressed against the windows, covering the mountains beyond in white and frosting the glass until the outside world looked distant and blurred. The fire crackling in the hearth did little to chase away the chill that seemed permanently woven into Ashfang stone.

I sat at the head of the table with a report open before me, one hand wrapped loosely around a cup of tea as I skimmed through the latest patrol updates.

The breakfast Marla had placed in front of me twenty minutes ago remained untouched.

Across the table, Cassian reached for another piece of bread.

The movement lasted all of three seconds before Ingrid smacked the back of his hand hard enough to make him swear under his breath.

My eyes remained on the report.

Their argument started immediately.

“You’ve had four.”

“I’ve had three.”

“You’ve had four.” She deadpanned.

Cassian snorted, “I can’t believe you count.”

“I count because otherwise, you’d eat enough for six full blooded wolves.”

“I train enough for six people.”

“You train like an idiot,” she retorted.

“I train like a warrior.”

Ingrid stared at him.

I turned another page.

The conversation continued around me.

It usually did.

Most people eventually learned that silence didn’t bother me. Cassian and Ingrid had figured that out years ago. They no longer expected participation. Instead, they simply filled the room themselves.

“Tell me something,” Ingrid said eventually, leaning back in her chair. “How is it possible that after all these years of training, you’re still nowhere near as good as the Alpha?”

Cassian looked personally offended.

“The Alpha is the Alpha.”

“You started training at the same time.”

“Again,” Cassian said patiently, as though speaking to a child, “the Alpha is the Alpha.”

“That sounds suspiciously like an excuse.”

Cassian sighed dramatically.

“Your inability to appreciate natural talent concerns me.”

The corner of Ingrid’s mouth twitched.

Marla chose that moment to enter carrying another tray.

The room immediately shifted.

Her gaze swept across the table before settling on me.

“My concern,” she said, setting the tray down with deliberate calm, “is why the Alpha hasn’t touched his breakfast.”

Silence followed.

Cassian looked away first.

Ingrid suddenly found the fire fascinating.

Neither of them wanted any involvement in what came next.

I didn’t bother lifting my eyes from the report.

“I’m eating.”

Marla folded her arms.

The gesture alone carried more authority than most warriors possessed.

“The food has not moved.”

“It moved from the kitchen.”

For a brief moment, I heard Cassian choke on a laugh.

The sound vanished immediately when Marla looked in his direction.

I finally lowered the report.

“What?”

“You skipped dinner.”

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“You skipped lunch too.”

There it was.

The part where she stopped asking questions and started listing facts.

Unfortunately, the facts were accurate.

I held her gaze.

She held mine.

The outcome was never in doubt.

Marla had been winning arguments against me since I was little.

“You are not a pup.”

“No.”

“You are not immortal.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“And yet you insist on testing that theory.”

A faint irritation surfaced.

Not because she was wrong.

Because she was right.

Again.

Marla pointed toward the plate.

The gesture was simple.

The meaning wasn’t.

Eat.

Several seconds passed.

Then I picked up my fork.

Satisfied, Marla nodded once and returned to the kitchen.

Only after she disappeared did the tension leave the room.

Cassian exhaled dramatically.

“I would rather fight rogues.”

I cut a piece of food without looking up.

“That’s a bold statement from someone whose workload I can triple before lunch.”

The complaint died immediately.

Ingrid laughed and peace returned to the table for approximately thirty seconds.

Then they started arguing again.

I finished breakfast and left before either of them attempted to involve me.

The cold hit immediately.

Fresh snow covered the training grounds in a smooth blanket of white. The wind carried the sharp scent of pine and ice down from the mountains.

For a few moments, I stood on the manor steps simply breathing.

The world was quiet.

It had been months since Aneira left.

Months since the bond had snapped taut and refused to break.

Months since I had stopped expecting her to walk back through the gates.

My wolf stirred beneath my skin.

Restless.

Always restless.

I ignored it.

Then shifted.

The transformation rolled through me in a familiar rush of muscle and bone. Snow compressed beneath massive paws as I landed and immediately launched forward.

The forest swallowed me within minutes.

Branches blurred overhead.

Frozen earth thundered beneath my paws.

The cold felt good.

Movement felt better.

Running was one of the few things that silenced everything else.

I pushed harder, letting my wolf stretch into a faster pace. Snow scattered beneath my paws as I moved through the forest, weaving effortlessly between towering pines. The cold air burned pleasantly in my lungs while the wind rushed through my fur.

For the first time that day, my mind was completely quiet.

Then I stopped.

The movement was so abrupt that snow sprayed beneath my paws as every muscle in my body locked. My wolf surged forward violently inside me, a sudden burst of alertness that nearly knocked me off balance.

A scent.

Impossible.

The world narrowed instantly.

The countless scents of the forest faded into the background as my attention sharpened on a single trail drifting through the wind.

Her.

My heart slammed once against my ribs.

Then again.

For a moment, I simply stood there, completely motionless, as the realization settled over me.

The scent was weak. Old. Hours old at most.

But it was hers.

Aneira.

There was no possibility of mistake.

My wolf rose immediately, every trace of exhaustion vanishing so completely that it felt as though it had never existed. For months it had been restless, irritated, pacing endlessly beneath my skin with nowhere to direct its frustration.

Now it felt awake and It pushed toward the scent with a determination that bordered on obsession, every instinct focused on the same thing.

Mine.

The word echoed through me with uncomfortable familiarity.

I had spent months forcing that instinct into silence. Months rebuilding routines, responsibilities, and habits around the absence she had left behind. It should have been easier by now.

It wasn’t.

The wind shifted again.

I lifted my head slightly, testing the air.

The scent returned.

Fainter this time.

But enough.

Enough to confirm what I already knew.

She had been here.

Very recently.

A strange tension settled through my body as possibilities collided inside my mind. Aneira had vanished without a trace. Months had passed without a single confirmed sighting. Every search had failed. Every lead had ended nowhere.

And now her scent was here.

Far closer than it should have been.

And standing alone among the trees with her scent lingering in the wind, something inside me stirred for the first time in months. I felt alive.