Almost, Always

Elira and Kael stood barely a step apart in the silent room—a half-wolf and the man who hunted her kind. Every nerve in Elira’s body screamed danger.

As Kael stepped toward her, calm and deliberate, Elira spun to her dresser, yanked open the drawer, and grabbed her dagger. Her hands shook as she pointed it at his throat.

Her thoughts raced

I’ve trained with swords, but I’ve never fought for my life. He’s a war hero. Battle-hardened. Probably killed werewolves before. No chance. No way I win this. Maybe… maybe I can run.

"I’d never hurt you, Elira. You’re my wife." His voice stayed steady.

Calm. Even with the blade near his skin. His eyes begged her: Believe me.

And part of her wanted to.

But what if he’s lying? My wife. Why say it like that? A reminder? A threat? Something else?

Her mind spun— Then fire exploded in her ribs. She gasped, clutching her chest.

Kael moved, reaching inside his coat. Elira froze.

"This awakening… it’s overwhelming," he said, pulling out a small glass vial. It caught the light.

That tonic. The same bitter drink her father forced down her throat for years.

"It silences the wolf inside you."

Her breath caught. All this time… poison?

She remembered the burn in her throat. The numb emptiness afterward. Rage tore through her. She slapped the vial from his hand. It clattered across the floor, vanishing into shadows.

Kael went very still. Then he straightened, jaw tight.

"Should’ve known better than to bring it. Thought you might trust me. Just once."

Elira felt his pain—the ache in his voice, the heavy thud of his heart, the agony in his eyes. But why care? He’d tried to drug her. To kill the wolf—that part of her. Just like her father. Hatred burned through her veins. She shot him a glare.

Kael saw it all: the hatred in her eyes, the glare that tore at his heart. He looked toward the window, as if leaving was the only kindness he had left to offer.

"Seems I’m not needed here." His voice stayed calm, but something in it had gone thin. Bitter.

He picked up the vial, wiped the dust off, and set it quietly by the door. Half-turning, his eyes found hers.

"You’re strong, Elira." Soft. Like he was trying to believe it himself. "But this won’t be easy."

He didn’t move closer. Didn’t touch her. But his eyes held something fierce. Protective. Almost… sad.

"Don’t worry," he added quietly. "Just us two here. Howl if you need to."His hand closed on the doorknob."I’ll be nearby… if you need me."A pause. "No wolf gets in or out. You’re safe here… if you stay."

He was almost gone when her voice stopped him:

"Why’d you marry me, Kael?" Her breath hitched. "No—why did you push for it?" The words tore out of her. Fear lost to raw need. "What’s your plan?"

He froze in the doorway. Didn’t turn .A faint, empty smile touched his lips.

"I don’t know why I insisted…" His voice dropped. "Don’t know why I didn’t kill you when I found out what you are."

Then he vanished.

Later that night

Alone, Elira fought herself. The wolf clawed under her skin, fighting to break free.

First: a deep ache in her bones. Then: sharper. Hotter. Agony.

Her eyes glowed gold in the mirror. A growl ripped from her throat. Fingernails sharpened into claws. Her skin itched. Her body moved in ways she didn’t understand.

The change came in waves—violent, relentless. Fire threatened to eat her alive.

Through it all: Alone. Scared. Wishing someone would hold her and whisper: "You’re not a monster."

But no one came.

So she fought. Alone. Biting her lip bloody. Scratching grooves in the floorboards. Curling tight like she could squeeze the wolf away.

Next door

Kael didn’t sleep. He heard everything: Every choked scream. Every ragged gasp. Every broken curse.

He didn’t knock. Didn’t go in. Just sat awake all night, back against the wall between them. Fists clenched. Jaw locked.

Dawn

Silence finally fell in Elira’s room. No growls. No scraping claws. Just… quiet.

Kael waited outside her door in the gray morning light, listening. Only when he heard nothing—no crying, no whimpers—did he move.

He eased the door open like any sound might break her.

She lay curled on the floor, asleep. Exhausted. Peaceful. Like last night never happened.

Kael crossed the room, footsteps soft. Gently, he lifted her—so light in his arms—and carried her to the bed. Brushed hair from her face. Covered her with a blanket.

He lingered. Watching.

"You really are strong," he whispered.

Then he left, closing the door without a sound.

__Kael’s room__

He collapsed onto his bed, arm over his eyes. Stared at the ceiling. But his mind is far away.Haunted by memories.

__FLASHBACK : Two years ago__

Kael stood before the king, holding new orders: Borderlands. Enemy movement. Werewolf rumors. Three days before his engagement.

"It seems your engagement must be delayed," the king had said kindly, trying to offer sympathy to his most trusted commander.

But Kael had only shaken his head.

"No, Your Majesty. I will proceed with the ceremony as planned."A pause. "Forgive me for the request, but... please inform Duke Malven in my stead."

The king had studied him carefully—reading the weight behind those words—before nodding his consent.

At the border, he faced worse than enemy soldiers— wolves who mimicked humans, slipped past guards, spread chaos silently.

A week after the engagement ceremony, he finally wrote to Elira. A careful letter. Formal. Distant. Didn’t know how to say what he felt.

And still__He waited.

Weeks.

Months.

But Elira never replied.

He told himself she might be busy. Or that she felt awkward, writing to a man she'd never truly met. He tried to understand. Still, once in a while, he would write again. Quiet letters filled with the thoughts he couldn't say aloud. But after that first silence, he never sent them. He feared overwhelming her. He feared... pushing her further away.

Nearly a year later, her letter finally came.

Not a royal decree. A message.

"It's from Lady Elira Malven," his aide had said.

His heart had leapt—wild and unsteady. He opened the envelope, pulse racing.

Two pages: First—a contract. Her family’s wealth for his rise to Duke. In exchange: Two years of marriage. Then Divorce. Her freedom.

Second—her words:

Dear Lord Kael Rennar,I understand that, like me, you were forced into this engagement. I know you didn't ask for this marriage any more than I did. That's why I'm offering you this contract.We can pretend. Fulfill what's expected of us. And then, in two years, we part ways.In return, I offer you what's detailed in the contract—in exchange for my freedom.I hope you will agree. Your happiness is not with me, and mine is not with you.Sincerely,Elira Malven

The letter fell from his hands.

Something inside his chest cracked. He had waited for her. Waited to come home and take her hand—waited to call her his. But she... she didn't want any of it. She didn't want him.

Worse—she wanted to be free before she even belonged to him. What kind of life had she lived that made her long for escape so desperately?

Still, Kael signed the contract—with hands that trembled.

It was the only thread tying her to him.

His eyes drifted to a wooden box in the corner.

He glanced toward the wooden box tucked into the corner of his room. Inside, letters.

All the ones he had written.

All the ones he never sent.

And after the wedding...

He learned the truth.

The reason she'd needed her freedom so badly.

She loved someone else.

Worse than love—she was mated to someone else.

A werewolf.

A bond deeper than affection. Deeper than devotion.

A bond written into blood and fate.

And Kael?

He could never compete with that.

Because fate never chose him.

And neither did she.