Chapter 11

The afternoon sun dipped low, stretching golden lines across the ground. Outside Zeil’s chambers, Kael stood like a statue, one hand resting on the hilt of his blade and the other gripping that ever-present thin stick between his lips. His gaze was straight ahead, still, unblinking. Always alert. Always quiet.

Inside, Zeil pulled the robe over his shoulders slowly. His hand brushed the edge of the fabric, smoothing it down in small strokes. He moved with the quiet grace of someone lost in thought. The silence in the room was thick with no wind, no sound, just the quiet crackle of his thoughts.

Then the door opened.

Vera stepped in with her usual tired eyes and calm energy. She carried a silver tray in her hands. A plate of seared venison rested on one side. On the other, half-hidden beneath the folded skin, was a small wooden container. Zeil’s eyes dropped to it immediately.

The pills.

She set the tray down gently beside him.

“You always bring meat when you're hiding something,” Zeil said with a light smile.

Vera gave a faint chuckle, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Figured you'd need the strength for today.”

Zeil nodded. “Long day?”

She let out a tired sigh. “Don’t even ask. I had to help a female wolf give birth at dawn, then assist two elders with their joint pain, ran across the west wing for herbs, and now” she tapped the pill container “I had to pick this up from your father’s chamber. You know what that’s like in there.”

Zeil frowned slightly, reaching for the container. He didn’t open it yet. Just held it in his palm, staring at it like it might answer the questions in his head.

“I didn’t ask for this life, Vera,” he said quietly.

“I know,” she whispered.

“But I’m living it. Every pill, every command… I’ve been doing it all for him. For the WindClaw name. Just to survive.”

She looked at him, her face softening.

Zeil placed the container in his drawer, closing it with a quiet snap.

“One every night,” Vera said, more like a reminder. “No delay. And not more than one. The dosage is stronger than the last.”

Zeil nodded.

Then as she turned to leave, he spoke again.

“Vera,” he called gently.

She paused.

“About what we talked about yesterday…”

Her expression changed. Subtle, but it was there hesitation, conflict. She didn’t turn back to face him fully.

“Whatever feels right to you,” she said. “I’ll support you, Zeil. I always will.”

And then she left.

The room was quiet again.

Zeil looked down at the drawer where the pills were tucked away. “So this is it,” he whispered. “Live by their terms or die by their shame.”

He took the older pills, which his father felt were already less potent from the hidden compartment under his bed, tossed one into his mouth, and swallowed dry. It scratched his throat like sandpaper. Then he stood, shoulders straightened, and headed out.

Kael was waiting.

The moment Zeil stepped out, Kael turned his head slightly. That same annoying stick shifted on his lips.

Zeil gave a quiet mutter under his breath. “Damn thorn.”

The sun had reached its peak, heat dancing on stone paths as they moved together through the pack’s inner halls. The ground changed from stone to soft grass as they approached the Ironfang’s compound.

The air felt different here. Quieter. Tense.

Kael’s eyes scanned every corner. Watchful. Calculated.

They passed the gates, and a few young warrior who stopped their sparring. One of them Rin,who he had known since their pup days, a training partner.Zeil remembered his name, straightened and approached with a small grin.

“Zeil,” Rin greeted. “Or should I say, Young Lord Alpha.” His tone was warm. Respectful. He wasn’t like the others.

Zeil nodded back. “How’s your training?”

“Grueling,” Rin chuckled. “But I remember you used to run laps around the packs axis at dawn. That gave us a reason to keep up.”

Zeil allowed a smile. “You’ll get there.”

“I hope you’re not here for a fight,” Rin added.

“No,” Zeil said. “I’m here to see the Ironfang’s Elder.”

Rin’s expression shifted slightly. “Understood. I’ll let him know.”

He turned and disappeared through the inner gate. Moments later, the Elder of the Ironfang’s stepped out, flanked by a few senior warriors.

He didn’t look pleased,his eyes a murky grey that seemed to pierce straight through Zail, assessing, judging. Zail sensed the elder’s subtle disdain, a cold prickle on his skin, but he ignored it, his expression carefully neutral. He'd faced worse. He was facing worse every single day of his life.

“Greetings, Young Lord Alpha,” the elder said, bowing slightly, a gesture that held more ceremony than true respect. “I assume this visit concerns the matter of my son being denied his rightful bride?”

Zeil didn’t respond.

The elder’s lips curved into something close to a smirk. “As we all know, what is arranged is arranged. And surely, the royal family wouldn’t go against that… right?”

His tone was smooth. Too smooth. Kael shifted slightly beside Zeil, his hand brushing against his side. Ready.

Zeil still didn’t speak.

The elder continued,his voice taking on a smug, lecturing tone. “The laws are the laws. I believe your father made them very clear when he sent his son who, by the way, is not yet ruler to handle this matter.”

Kael’s eyes snapped open wider, a dangerous glint in their depths. “How dare you—” he rumbled, his voice a low growl that vibrated with suppressed fury. He turned his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the Elder, but his body remained calm, collected, a coiled spring ready to unleash.

“Quiet, rogue,” the elder interrupted coolly. “This is not your place.”

Kael didn’t move, but his eyes darkened. The wind shifted.

Zeil raised a hand gently. Kael stopped.

Then Zeil spoke. “So… all you want is to have the healer girl within your clan. Is that correct?”

The elder nodded with pride. “Exactly. That girl was promised. Her heart, her body, her future it belongs to us.”

He clearly thought that since Zail is weak as they all saw him to be ,he was also easily manipulated, perhaps even afraid.

Zeil stood slowly, folding his arms behind his back. “Understood.”

He turned to leave without another word.

As he walked away, the elder murmured just loud enough to hear, “We don’t expect a weakling like him to challenge tradition anyway.”

A few warriors chuckled.

Keal, walking just behind Zail, seemed to absorb the insult. The air around them suddenly thickened, growing heavy with an almost palpable force. A bloodlust aura, raw and potent, unfurled from Keal, wrapping around both him and Zail, draining the life from the very air they breathed. It was a silent warning, a brutal promise: If anyone was to try anything or say anything again, death would be their end.

Warriors stepped back, sensing the shift. The elder’s face lost color. Even Rin, the friendly one, staggered slightly.

He had never witnessed such a deadly, intimidating aura, a force of such raw, untamed power. It was like standing at the edge of a precipice, staring into the abyss.

Kael didn’t draw a blade. He didn’t roar.

He simply let his presence flood the air—bloodlust, sharp and suffocating.

Death whispered through his energy.

Even Zeil, who had started walking ahead, noticed everything, allowing a faint, one-sided smile to touch his lips. He kept walking, the bloodlust aura, a cloak of shadow and power around him.

They were shaken.

Especially the Elder.

He froze, his eyes wide, mouth agape, a dawning terror replacing his smugness.

As they walked out of the compound, Zeil turned his head slightly to Keal. A predatory gleam entered Zail’s eyes, a calculated maliciousness that made Keal a bit surprised.

“I want to play a game,” he said, his voice soft, almost conversational yet laced with an iron will.

Kael raised a brow.

For the first time since Keal became his guard, Zail had spoken to him in such a calm manner.

Zail then faced front again, his gaze fixed on the horizon, as if already seeing the pieces on his chessboard.

“Summon both clans. The Velmors and the Ironfangs,” Zeil continued, voice low and even. “And make sure the girl and the man she was arranged to marry are present.”

A slow, dangerous smile tugged at Zeil’s lips.

“This time,” he said, “I want to see their eyes.”

Kael tilted his head slightly. “What exactly are you planning?”

Zeil didn't answer. He only kept walking, and for once, Kael didn’t push further. Because whatever it was that Zeil had in mind, the scent of it reeked of rebellion.

And also for the first time since Kael met him...

He was curious.