Fangs And Desires

The cold morning air touched Zeil’s face the moment he opened the window. It was still dark outside. The sky held thick blue like clouds, one shaped like a heart. A faint light peeked from the horizon, but no birds sang yet. The world was still asleep.

Zeil always liked it this way, no one watching, no expectations.

He reached into the drawer beside his bed and pulled out a small silver case. His fingers trembled a little as he opened it.

Three white pills stared back at him.

He took one without water, swallowing it dry. As always, it stuck in his throat for a second. He sat on the bed and counted his breaths.

One. Two. Three...

Slowly, the heat beneath his skin faded. The heavy ache in his chest relaxed. His mind cleared like he had achieved inner peace or something like that.

This was his life, an omega pretending to be an alpha.

Zeil stood, stretched, and pulled on a shirt. Being seen as ‘weak’ was something he avoided at all costs. His muscles were tired and aching, but he was used to the pain. He trained harder than anyone.

Then he faced the mirror, It didn’t lie.

His body looked strong. His jawline was sharp. His dark hair was cut short, just how his father liked it. But in his eyes, there was something soft. Something that screams different.

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

“Come in,” he said.

Vera entered, her face calm as always. She carried a small tray of tea and bread. She was the only person who ever walked into his room without fear or fake smiles.

“You didn’t sleep again,” she said, placing the tray on his bed.

“I’m fine.”

“You say that every morning.”

Zeil gave a weak smile. “And I mean it every time.”

She didn’t smile back. She saw right through him. Then she pulled something from her coat pocket, a small packet.

“Extra pills. Just in case,” she said, holding it out. She was the only one aside from his father, the alpha who knew his secret.

He stared at it. “I already took one.”

“I know,” she replied. “But your scent is getting harder to hide.”

Zeil looked away.

Vera sat beside him. Her voice softened. “You can’t keep pushing yourself like this, Zeil. Suppressing your nature, pretending to be something you're not... it's dangerous.”

“What choice do I have?” he whispered. “You know what’ll happen if anyone finds out the truth.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. They both knew what would happen.

If anyone found out Zeil was a male omega, the WindClaw name would be dragged through shame. His father would never forgive him.

He would be marked as an abomination or worse, disowned and thrown out of the pack.

Breakfast was quiet, just like every other day.

His father sat at the head of the long wooden table, eyes scanning a scroll. He didn’t look up when Zeil walked in.

Zeil took his seat, two spots away. Never close. Never too far. Just enough to remind the pack that he was important… but not equal.

“Training reports,” his father said, his voice deep and cold. “You lost to Rayen yesterday, didn’t you?”

Zeil’s heart sank. “Only once. I beat him in the second round.”

“That shouldn’t have happened at all.”

Zeil looked down. His eggs had gone cold. “He’s bigger. Stronger.”

His father finally looked at him, eyes sharp. “Then train harder.”

Zeil nodded.

His father returned to the scroll. “A rogue was found near the eastern border last night. One of our own was injured. The rogue saved him.”

That was strange. Rogues didn’t help pack wolves.

“He asked for nothing in return,” his father continued. “Just shelter.”

Zeil raised a brow. “And you gave it to him?”

“I did more than that,” his father said. “I made him a warrior.”

Zeil stared in disbelief. “A rogue?”

“He fought better than half the pups in this house. I trust strength, not blood.”

There was a pause.

“He’ll be assigned to you,” his father added. “As your personal guard.”

Zeil froze. “What?”

“You need protection. Especially now. Some say you’re too soft.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You need to be watched,” his father said, colder than ever. “And reminded of what’s expected of you.”

Zeil clenched his fists. He wanted to argue. To scream.

But instead, he said quietly, “Understood.”

That afternoon, Zeil went to the training grounds. The sun was out, but the air still felt cold like winter was about to show its face.

He stood in front of a wooden dummy, punching it again and again. Blood soaked through the cloth wrapped around his hands, but he didn’t stop.

Pain helped him focus instead of his mind replaying his father’s words that usually echoed in his head.

Nearby, the other pack members trained. Some laughed too loudly. Others whispered just low enough. But Zeil still heard his name.

“He looks tired.”

“Maybe the heir isn’t as strong as he acts.”

“His scent is off.”

He ignored them.

Vera came around with a towel and water. “You should stop. You’re bleeding.”

“I can’t stop.”

“You’ll get sick.”

“I need to be better,” Zeil muttered. “Or they’ll find out. Or worse, Father…”

Vera didn’t argue. She just knelt and wiped his hands gently. When the bell rang for the evening meal, Zeil returned to his room, changed clothes, and sat by the window.

He watched the sky grow darker.

Then, he heard voices outside. Curious, he stood and looked toward the courtyard.

Pack members had gathered in a circle. His father stood in the center, arms crossed. Beside him was someone new.

The rogue.

A tall, lean man. His black hair was tied back, and though his clothes were torn, he stood proud. Strong. Calm.

His eyes were sharp, too sharp for someone who had just wandered in. And there was something else… an aura. Calm, but deadly.

“This is Kael,” his father announced. “From today, he is a warrior of the WindClaw Pack. Most importantly, he will serve as personal guard to my son, Zeil.”

Kael looked straight at Zeil. No fear. No fake respect. Just utter silence that made Zeil uncomfortable.

Their eyes met for a brief moment and something passed between them. Maybe a strange pull. Or a whisper in the air.

Zeil’s breath caught for a moment. Then he looked away quickly.

He gave a polite bow. “Welcome to the pack.”

Kael didn’t respond, he only nodded.

But as Zeil walked back to his room, he could swear that he still felt Kael’s eyes on him.

That night, Zeil locked the doors to his room and sat alone in the dark. He pulled open the drawer and stared at the pills inside. Then, slowly, he closed it again.

Something about Kael made him uneasy.

He didn’t like it.

He didn’t trust it.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Kael.

The rogue wolf who's now his personal guard.