Chapter Four: The Golden Cage

KALE'S POV 

In my head, the silence roared. It wasn’t just quiet. It screamed.

Three hours had passed since the rejection. The loss of our connection clung to me like a phantom limb. It ached. It burned. No matter how much I told myself I did the right thing, the pain stayed.

I sat at my desk in the old treehouse. General reports lay scattered in front of me. Might as well have been written in ancient runes. I couldn’t read them. Not really. My thoughts were nowhere near the page.

“They’re just temporary,” I muttered and pressed my palms hard against my temples.

“It’s just temporary,” I repeated. “The problem will fade. Everything goes back to normal.”

But normal felt like another country. Some distant place I’d never see again.

The room around me mocked me with its stillness. Aria’s presence used to shine here, quietly, through our bond. Now it was just space. Empty and cold.

My wolf stirred at the edges of my mind. Restless. Frustrated. Desire and confusion twisted through him like wind through trees. I couldn’t focus.

A knock cut through the fog.

“Come in,” I called, straightening up and forcing my face into the expression my rank demanded.

Beta Marcus Ashford entered, calm and unreadable. But his eyes, they carried something close to satisfaction. Behind him, Lyric glided in, wrapped in emerald green. The dress hugged her frame. Her golden hair shimmered like sunlight on water. Every step was careful. Controlled.

“Alpha,” Marcus greeted and took the seat across from me. “I wanted to personally commend your strength this morning.”

“The pack’s welfare comes first,” I said, my voice tight.

“Indeed,” Lyric added, her voice soft and lyrical. “This kind of sacrifice, setting aside divine will for the greater good, is what true leadership looks like.”

Her praise landed wrong. Like salt in a raw wound. I had turned away from the divine. No amount of approval made that feel right.

“The Goddess challenges us in many ways,” she continued gently. “Sometimes her greatest gifts arrive as burdens.”

Marcus leaned forward.

“Speaking of gifts, we need to look ahead. The pack needs direction after what happened today.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“An official announcement,” Lyric said, smooth as silk. “The identity of the true Luna. Someone the pack can rally behind.”

My fingers curled beneath the table. Outside the high windows, life went on. Warriors trained. Cubs played. Elders shared stories. As if this morning hadn’t happened. As if Aria had never existed.

“Too soon,” I said. I didn’t know if I meant the announcement or the ache still clinging to my chest. “The pack needs time.”

“With respect,” Marcus said, and something in his tone stirred my wolf, “uncertainty invites unrest. Silence gives room for doubt to grow.”

There it was. Moira’s whispers, her frown earlier in the council room. Repeated in every corridor since.

“What kind of doubt?”

He shifted slightly. “Some think the rejection went against the goddess. Moira said it might bring divine consequences.”

A chill coiled in my chest. I had prepared for backlash. But the way Marcus glanced at Lyric made something inside me curl inward.

“What exactly did she say?”

“She spoke of unrest. Strange dreams. Skittish wolves. Odd behavior among the cubs.”

I scoffed. “Superstition.”

Still, the emptiness I had carried since morning tightened.

“Myth has power,” Lyric said. Her voice was quiet but sharp. “Especially to those who believe it.”

I stood and stepped toward the window. The pups below sparred playfully, paws too big for their bodies. They were the future. Not omens.

“What do you want from me?”

“A festival,” Lyric said at once. “Let the moon bless what has been chosen.”

She was composed. Elegant. Everything Aria wasn’t.

So why did claiming her feel like swallowing sand?

“Let them choose,” I said before I could stop myself.

Lyric faltered for a second, then smiled again. “It would be my honor to serve however you see fit, Alpha.”

Marcus leaned in, voice even. “Such a union would strengthen our political ties. The Ashford name carries weight.”

Politics. Power. Strategy. I looked at Lyric but saw Aria’s tearful eyes instead. Her back was straight even as her world collapsed.

“I need time,” I said.

Lyric gave a small nod. “Of course. The elders are meeting tomorrow. They hope for stability.”

“Leave her,” I told myself. “Let it go.” 

“You will understand,” I said. “My decision is final.”

Marcus smiled again, wide and knowing. “Support makes leadership easier. Especially with divine matters.”

A warning. Coated in courtesy.

“I’ll address the council tomorrow. Is there anything else?”

Lyric reached forward, her hand brushing mine. “You don’t have to carry all this alone.”

She stepped away slowly. Her presence lingered even after the door closed behind them.

Twilight crept across the floorboards. I looked out toward the forest.

Somewhere out there, Aria was walking into the unknown.

A softer knock came at the door.

“Come in.”

Margaret entered, hesitant.

“Alpha,” she said, “you should know. Aria left the territory.”

The words landed harder than expected.

“Where?”

“Into the forest. Alone.”

A cold knot twisted deep in my gut.

“I have served the pack for twenty-two years,” Margaret said, voice tight.

“Your service is valued,” I replied. “The decision was necessary.”

She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. Her silence said enough.

She turned and left.

Back to the forest.

Alone. No guard. No protection.

“She’s not your burden anymore,” I reminded myself.

But the pain didn’t listen.

The sun dipped behind the trees. Shadows stretched over the earth. The bond was gone. The absence it left behind was too wide to hold.

Tomorrow, I would face the elders.

Tonight, I sat alone.

Wondering why victory felt so much like defeat.