The Scent of Secret

"So this was the reason," Kael said, his voice echoing in his wife's dark, silent bedroom.

Though his tone sounded flat, most people wouldn't notice the brittleness around the edges. Elira's keen ears, however, did.

"Is this the reason you demanded a two-year marriage agreement? Thane, huh? Your secret lover?" Kael's deep voice held controlled harshness in every syllable, turning icy.

She couldn't identify the delicate flickering just beneath the surface of his expression, as skilfully hidden as ever. But for some reason, she thought she could hear his heartbeat—too rapid, too irregular. It was loud and clear in the still room, pressing down on her chest like a muffled drum.

A hallucination, she told herself, scowling. No one's heartbeat can travel that far through two meters of air.

His arm was slightly outstretched, as if holding the letter too close might stain him. He gripped the parchment between two fingers like it was something filthy. Elira couldn't tell if the faint trembling at the bottom of the paper came from a twitch in his hand or a stray gust of wind sneaking into the room. His frame remained rigid, his high cheekbones sharpened by a jaw set like stone. But there was something deeper in his gaze—something raw.

Anguish? Vulnerability? No. He couldn't be hurt by this—her letter. Elira pushed the thought away. If anything, he'd turn her words into a weapon, not a wound.

Elira stood motionless beside the window, her figure composed despite the storm tightening in the room behind her. She didn't look at Kael—didn't want to. He stood rigid, his posture coiled like a spring ready to snap. Instead, she fixed her gaze outside, onto nothing in particular. Her voice, when it came, was colder than even her eyes.

"That letter was never sent." It was the truth—and the only part of her carefully guarded calm she allowed to show."Yes, but it's written with such..." he hesitated, bitterness roughening the word, "...tenderness." The taste of it curdled in his mouth."Well. If it was so easily forgotten in a drawer, then perhaps he wasn't important after all." His voice was flat, but his eyes searched her back like he was desperate to catch something slipping through her composure."Yes. He isn't important."Her answer should have comforted him—it was exactly what he had hoped to hear.

But her stillness, her perfect calm, only made it worse. The very ease with which she said it made him doubt every word.

Kael dropped his gaze and let out a breath of laughter. It was dry and humorless.

Why did I need to hear it from her mouth? he asked himself. Why did I have to be sure?

Abruptly, he stepped forward and grabbed her arm, spinning her to face him.

"You're lying," he said, smiling—but not with joy.

The expression was jagged, born of something deeper. Pain.

Elira froze. His palm pressed against her skin, but what jolted her wasn't his grip—it was the pulse. His heartbeat thudded violently beneath his skin, and somehow, impossibly, she felt it seep into her own. As if the rhythm of his anger and ache was echoing in her bones. Too loud. Too alive. His grip felt like pressure, then—pain. A sudden sting pulsed under her skin, sharp and wrong, like she'd brushed against nettles made of heat and iron. She jerked away as though burned.

"Don't touch me," she snapped, voice like ice.

But the sensation lingered—like her bones remembered something she didn't.His gaze didn't let go. It clung to hers with wild intensity—like he needed her to understand something unspoken. Like he needed her to look deeper. She hated it. Hated the silent plea in his eyes. Hated that she almost understood it.

Elira let out a breath, fighting the tremble that threatened to choke her. She had trained her body to be still for the majority of her life. But even now, when Kael hovered in her personal space for too long, she felt a restless beast stir—an old instinct tearing up her spine. Particularly when he inhaled deeply before he spoke.She walked calmly past him, the only sound the rustle of her skirts. Carefully—too carefully, purposefully allowing the silence to linger—she poured herself a cup of tea. Her tone was silky smooth, but her fingers tightened slightly over the porcelain as she took a sip.

"Why do you care, Kael?" she asked.

Behind her, Kael remained still. He opened his mouth to respond, but then shut it again. Unable to figure out the answer, he scowled. He cared, but why? He was neither the kind to show his feelings nor an authority on them. As a result, all he could do was look at her, his eyes analysing her like a predator attempting to comprehend its prey.

"Our marriage was only a deal—a political tie that neither of us desired," she put down the cup and went on."That's why I offered this contract, so we could free ourselves from the arrangement our parents made. I know Rennar would gain as much as Malven through this alliance, and I've already offered you something greater if you sign the contract: the full inheritance of the Malven estate, and my help in raising you to the rank of Duke. That's the best offer you could possibly gain from this agreement, and I—""—gain your freedom," he finished, a bitter taste in his heart as he pointed it out."Once the two years are done." Something terribly heavy settled in his chest."Yes," she said, utterly ignoring the resentment in his voice."I am free from my father's rule. From my siblings. From being handled like a piece of furniture."

Freedom from the lineage she could never describe, she thought but didn't say. From the beast hidden beneath her flesh.

"And freedom from Rennar's name," Kael went on, his jaw twitching.

After a moment, she nodded.

"Correct. So tell me, does it make any difference whether I once loved someone else or not?" she said, her voice harsh.

With a rustle that seemed like a sudden thunderclap in the silence, his palm crumpled the letter.

"Love? Hah! Love is something you've never mentioned before." There was a flicker of something frigid in his eyes."Yes, since this arrangement never included love. Something so insignificant—for you and for me," she remarked, taking a step forward."And I believed you would be quite happy. You and the Princess are also the subject of rumour, aren't you? Or was there another reason why you weren't present at our engagement ceremony?"Then he looked her in the eyes."So you were angry because I left you alone at the engagement party?"Elira blinked, then laughed icily."Angry?" The irony was evident in her voice. She gave a headshake."No, affection is the source of those feelings. And I've never given you that." Her icy comment made his heart ache."Well, when it comes to you and your indifference, I just feel... nothing at all." The words struck more forcefully than she had anticipated, even for herself.

The room froze in the ensuing hush. Kael's fingers curled as he held the letter, but he didn't flinch.

"And yet," he murmured quietly, his voice almost drowned out by the silence,"you wrote a love letter to that Thane with such tender, deep emotion."

Elira smirked, but her eyes were cold.

"It was a moment of weakness," her voice cracked, then hardened."And unlike you, I allow myself those. In private. No rumors ever surfaced about it."Another pause.

The fire behind them crackled, but neither turned. Kael folded the letter slowly, methodically. Then slipped it into the inside pocket of his coat.Elira's eyes narrowed.

"Keeping it?""I don't discard things of value," he replied coolly.She scoffed."So I'm a threat to your carefully arranged future, then? Worried the court will hear that your perfect Malven wife once wrote a letter to a man with ink-stained hands?""You're not the sentimental type, Elira," Kael said softly."I'm not," she snapped."That's why I married you, Kael—the infamous war hero I had barely met before. The princess's secret lover who makes people see me as a villainess who stole someone else's man."

More silence. But something shifted. This time it wasn't just tension—it was scent. Not smoke, tea, or parchment. Fur.

She froze.

Kael stepped forward, slow and deliberate.

"And yet... you wrote to another man even after you married me.""I told you. It was a moment of weakness."Kael tilted his head, and Elira felt the fine hairs on her arms rise."Then it won't bother you... if I get curious. About this Thane." She stilled.

Every muscle on alert. Her wolf senses stirred beneath her skin—protective, wild, barely suppressed.Kael continued, calm and cutting.

"If he's so unimportant, you wouldn't mind if I... sought him out. Greeted him. Properly." His eyes filled with icy warning.

The teacup in her hand rattled against its saucer.Then, without warning, she moved. Not with grace—but speed. Faster than any human should—surprising both of them.

"Do not dare touch him!" Her voice rang with anger.Kael's brow arched."So he is important—" he smiled as if confirming something."He has nothing to do with our marriage!" Her voice was a growl, just barely restrained."I'm trying to win freedom for myself. Not to run back to anyone. Don't drag the innocent into this!" Her eyes burned—not with affection, but a kind of feral rage she never used for herself.

She stepped back, breath steadying. The beast retreated. She didn't quite understand what was happening in her body right now. She smoothed her dress. Her voice returned to its cold, composed edge.

"After all, aren't you the one who benefits most? You got the Malven name. The Princess. Perhaps even the throne if the public likes you." Her gaze flicked to the pocket where the letter now rested."So mind your own ambitions, Kael. And leave mine alone."

This time, Kael didn't look untouched. Not entirely. He turned to the door. Paused. Then said, in a voice that no longer sounded indifferent:

"Two years. That was the deal. I suggest you remember what's at stake before writing any more unsent letters."She didn't look away."And I suggest you remember I gave you everything you needed to rise. Don't pretend I owe you more than that."

He left, the door clicking softly behind him.Elira stood in the quiet study. Alone. Staring at the dying embers in the hearth, her fists clenched.The wolf inside her stirred. Not from sorrow.

From warning.

He was starting to notice.

And Thane—gods help her—Thane couldn't afford to be found.Her tea had gone cold.