Mag-log inHeâs an omega forced to live as an alpha. His new bodyguard is the one man who sees through the lie. When heat and duty collide, desire becomes dangerous. "I hate that fucking bastard, always judging nothing more.â He kicked the rock into the flowing stream but still, Zeilâs legs trembled every time their eyes met, and his wolf was willing to submit.
view moreThe silence between Zeil and Kael throbbed like a wound that refused to close. Their eyes locked, storms locked in storms, and Zeilâs breath trembled between words he could not speak. His wolf clawed at his chest, aching for something that frightened him.And then the door slammed open so hard the hinges squealed.âBreakfast for the half-dead prince!â Lopi sang, balancing a tray in one hand and swinging the door wide with the other. His grin was as wide as the sun, his hair sticking in every possible direction. âHot soup, bread, and humiliation served fresh!âZeil froze, caught between the frame and Kaelâs closeness. His cheeks flamed as if caught in crime.âOh, oh, ohhhh,â Lopi crooned, eyes narrowing with fake suspicion. He set the tray down and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. âWhat is this? What did I interrupt? A duel? A dramatic staring contest? Orâ He paused, lowering his voice in mock scandal, â...something more scandalous?âZeilâs face burned. âLopi, shut your mout
The room was dim, filled with the soft glow of a single lamp which was suddenly blown off by the morning wind. The bird's hand already began to sing their early morning songs. Zeilâs breath came shallow but steady, his body trembling as though torn between sickness and strength. He turned his face toward Kael, who stood like a sentinel in the corner, quiet, unmoving.Zeilâs lips parted, his voice low, uncertain. âYou donât have to stand there all day again? Kaelâs eyes did not shift. âYes, I do.âZeil frowned, trying to push himself upright. His body ached, sharp pain slicing through his chest, but pride forced him up anyway. His hands gripped the edge of the bed, knuckles pale.Kael moved before he could steady himself, his steps silent but swift. His hand came down, strong and warm, pressing against Zeilâs shoulder. âLie down.ââIâm not fragile,â Zeil said harshly, but the words quivered, breaking under the weight of weakness.Kaelâs hand did not move. His voice was quiet, deep, li
The chamber was silent except for the faint hiss of the brazier. Shadows bent across the stone walls, firelight flickering in restless waves. The Great Alpha sat tall on the oak chair, his hands resting heavy on the armrests. His eyes were sharp, dark as midnight, fixed on the fish pond as if he had been waiting for hours for a particular fish to show itself. At last, the door opened Healer Lena entered quietly. Her robes brushed against the floor, her steps measured, calm, almost like the rhythm of breath itself. She bowed, both hands folded neatly in front of her.âMy lord Alpha,â she said softly.The Lord Alpha tilted his head just slightly, his stare unmoving. âYou came.ââI came the moment you called,â she answered, her voice even.He gestured faintly toward the space near the fish pond âStand here.âShe did. The flames washed her face with amber glow, painting her features with warmth she did not feel. The Alphaâs gaze was too sharp, too heavy for comfort.For a moment, there
The morning sun was already at its peak, spilling gold over the rooftops of the WindClaw Kingdom.The training ground was alive with movement. Dozens of wolves, both in human form and shifted, were sparring hard. Fists slammed into training posts, claws scraped the dirt, bodies locked and broke apart in wrestling moves.The air was thick with sweat, effort, and the sharp scent of determination. Every strike, every throw was meant to keep the Kingdom strong. No one here could afford to be weak.In the middle of all that noise, a few voices rose above the rest.âWhereâs the Young Lord Alpha?â one warrior grunted as he wiped his brow.Another shrugged. âHavenât seen him in three days. Not here, not anywhere around the training yard.ââThatâs strange,â the first said. âHeâs always the first one to start training, swinging like heâs about to go to war.âA third voice joined in, low and mocking. âMaybe heâs lost his stamina. Imagine someone like him leading us into battle.âA few chuckled at






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