Zeil was trembling from the heat that was building up from inside him, even though he tried to mask it but it was becoming unbearable. Still standing there, breath stuck in his throat, chest rising and falling too fast. His back pressed against the wall, his whole body burning from the inside out.
Kael didnât move, his eyes were still on Zeilâs. There was no warmth in them and that's what excites Zeilâs wolf the most. âTouch usâ His wolf purred, anticipating every kaelâs eye and breath movement. And when their faces looked like they were going to kiss, Kael turned away. Just like that. Zeil watched him pick his shirt off the floor and sling it over his shoulder. His back was broad, carved with scars that told stories no one ever asked to hear. His shoulders moved like a caged beast shaking off its chains. At the door, Kael paused. "Be warned," he said, his voice was calm this time without the roughness around the edge. "Iâm not your regular pushover." Then he left, the door closed behind him, and silence filled every corner of the room once again. Zeil stood still for a second⌠then another before his legs gave out and dropped on the bed. His chest heaved as he panted, sweat running down his neck and soaking into the sheets. His thighs trembled, muscles aching, heart refusing to calm. What in the name of the moon goddess was that? His hand reached for the keys under the drawer beside the bed and unlocked it before scrambling inside, fingers brushing until they found the silver case. He didnât hesitate. One pill. Then another. Swallowed dry without any water, they scratched down his throat. It didnât help. His body was on fire. Too hot. Skin crawling, his inner wolf stirring wildly. A heat he didnât want, didnât ask for, coiled low in his stomach and throbbed through his core. Zeil wiped the sweat from his forehead, whispering, "No, no, no..." He clenched his jaw, teeth gritting hard. This wasnât fear, not even close. It was something else. That bastard. Kael. Who did he think he was? Zeil sat up fast, rage mixing with heat, making his vision blur. The pills werenât working. They always worked. But not now. Not after Kael. Not after those eyes. That voice. That closeness between them and to worsen everything, his warm breath against Zeil's skin. "How dare he come in here and speak to me like that?" Zeil hissed, his voice sharp and shaky. He paced the room, the heat thick beneath his skin. Anger. Shame. Primal Need. All wrapped up in one wild raging storm. Kael had dared to speak back. Had dared to raise his voice. Dared to get close, too close with that well defined toned chest full of old scars, like war medals he wore with pride. And the wolf. That flash of dominance that had stolen the breath from Zeilâs lungs and almost made him submissive. He stomped hard, fists clenched tight. The heat wasnât fading. His legs shook. Chest burned. His wolf clawed beneath his skin. "Damn him! Damn this body!" He hated how alive he felt. Hated the way Kael had looked at him. Like he saw through him. Like he knew. Zeil growled and stomped again. "Heâs beneath me. Nothing but a dirty rogue! Who don't belong anywhere in this pack" But still, the image of him lingered. That stare. That warmth. He dropped to the bed again, cleaning the faint blood on his knuckles, trying to calm the fire inside. Outside, the sun was already out and vibrant. Voices of pack members echoed from the training grounds. She-Wolves who were drooling in lust over the body of the pack warriors and also the Clashing swords and fangs sounds, he heard them all. Familiar sounds. He hadnât slept and he couldnât not after what had just happened in his room. Everytime he closed his eyes in hopes of getting a little shuteye, he saw Kael. His scent still lingered in the room. On the walls, on the sheets and faintly on his skin. Zeil curled into the blanket, clenching his jaw. "I hate him," he whispered. And he meant it. Kael stood knee-deep in the stream. The water was cold, the rocks sharp. But it helped clear his head and his thoughts from running too wild. He ducked under the current, the water rushing over his face and neck. It washed away the sweat but not the thoughts. Zeil. That spoiled, arrogant alphaâs pup. Yelling like he was king. Throwing orders like he was nothing but dirt. All because of one order. "Protect him. No matter what." Even when he curses me? Even when he looks at me like Iâm nothing? Kael splashed more water over himself, scrubbing hard. A giggle broke the air then followed by another. He looked up. Three female wolves stood by the bank. Watching him and whispering to themselves. One had shifted, her fur shining in the light. "Heâs mine," one said. "You wish," said another. They flirted, tails swishing, laughing like he was some prize. He ignored them. Didn't even spare them a glance. He walked out of the water, droplets sliding off his skin. Shorts on, shirt tossed over his shoulder, grass blade back between his lips. They kept staring and darting their eyelashes at him but he kept walking. Adira, the most beautiful of them all, whispered, "He didnât even flinch." "Even beauty," one of them said, "can be ignored sometimes." Their giggles faded behind him. Kael didnât care. His mind was still in Zeilâs room. With that brat. That heat. The scent that felt strange but at the same time pulled him closer to the point where he had almost lost control of his wolf sanity. He shook it off. The training field was filled with life. Wolves fought. Dirt flew with each foot stomp. Orders rang out from the pack instructors and generals. But someone was missing. No Zeil. He was always here. Always earlier than everyone else. Kael stretched. Punched the air. But kept looking around, hoping to see him. Maybe Zeil was still angry. Still resting. Maybe he should check. No. He shouldnât. But he walked anyway towards the Alpha's house, step by step. Until he stood in front of Zeilâs door. He raised his hands to knock but decided against it, instead he just stood there. Waiting. After twenty minutes, Kael sighed. Deciding to give in as he could no longer withstand the harshness from the sun, he raised his hand slowly. Time to knock.Zeil stood with his back to the tall windows of his chamber, arms crossed, his eyes on the world outside.The wind brushed against his cheek, cold and soft like a whisper. It didnât make him shiver. In fact, it made him feel stronger. More in control.For once.A thin smile stretched across his lips.âIt all ends here today,â he whispered.Behind him, a knock came, not loud, just firm enough to announce presence.âYoung Lord?â Kaelâs voice floated in from the other side. âTheyâre waiting.âZeilâs smile deepened, Malicious, Confidence, Sharp like the blade beneath a silk cloth.He turned slowly, smoothing down his robe. His shoulders were square, movements calculated. Calm. He walked out with Kael silently falling into step behind him.The hallway was quiet, but outside the grand WindClaw Hall, voices stirred. The tension in the air was tight, pulled like a bowstring.They entered.And the silence that followed was thick.The hall was filled with members from both the Ironfang and Vel
The afternoon sun dipped low, stretching golden lines across the ground. Outside Zeilâs 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. Zeilâs eyes dropped to it immediately.The pills.She set the tray down gently beside him.âYou always bring meat when you're hiding something,â Zeil
It wasnât Keal.Zail thought it was him at first, feeling the presence as it washed over him. He opened his eyes, expecting to see Keal standing thereHis heartbeat said it was Kael. But when his eyes opened and adjusted to the shadows in the room.It wasnât.It was his father.The Lord Alpha stood by the window, arms behind his back, posture sharp like a blade waiting to strike. Moonlight spilled in faintly, brushing over the edges of his face. He wasnât looking at Zeil, but it didnât matter. His presence filled the room like a storm cloud.Zeil jumped to his feet so fast, his body forgot how sore it was. He nearly tripped. âFather,â he said, breath hitching, âblessed moon,I didnât notice⌠I didnât know you were here.âHe bowed quickly, head low. âGood evening, Father.âThe Lord Alpha turned his head slightly, only just.âI noticed a shift,â he said in a calm, deep voice. âThe moment you walked into the council hall.âZeilâs mouth went dry.âAre the pills still effective?â his father
As Zeil thought of finally making his move his body tensed. The claws came out. His fangs sprang free, sharp, wild, deadly. His eyes locked on Kaelâs back, and for a moment, he saw it: the kill ,the end for Keal. He leapt.Kael, at the very same moment, turned the corner. Not to run, not even to fight. Just to pick up a small stone.It was one of those strange habits of his. Tossing rocks and carrying a thin stick with two leaves at the bottom of it, on his mouth. But it saved him.Because Zeil missed.Completely.He hit the ground hard. Face first. Into the thick, wet mud. The splash covered his shirt, his arms, his entire face.It wasnât just the mud. It was so humiliating.Kael turned slowly, stone in hand. He blinked, then burst into laughter.Not just a chuckle. It was deep. Loud. Uncontrolled. He held his stomach and nearly lost his balance.âOh Moon,â he laughed. âAs expected. I anticipated a third dance from you, Young Lord!âThe thin stick in his mouth fell off with the fo
Zeil walked ahead, slow steps, heavy with thought. His eyes didnât really see the path, they were too busy looking backward, back into the moments that nearly ended him. The wounds on his body were already healing, but the ones inside him were far from gone. Every step towards the Velmor's compound felt like a return to that moment, knees on the ground, breath caught in fear, heart racing like he was prey instead of predator.Behind him, Keal was picking up small stones from the path, tossing them one by one without care. His long thin stick, the one with two dried leaves at the bottom, hung from his lips like always. The silence between them was thick, almost like a wall but Keal, being Keal, had to punch through it.âWell,â Keal said with a crooked smile, tossing another stone into the bush, âwho wouldâve guessed our Young Lord Alpha would drop to his knees, shaking like a pup caught stealing meat under moonlight?âThe words sliced Zail like claws. His fists clenched so tightly his
Zeil opened the door.The hallway was quiet, but his heartbeat wasnât.His eyes darted around, scanning every corner. Every shadow. Whereâs Kael? The corridor felt wider than usual, colder too but Kael was gone.Gone without a trace.Zeilâs chest tightened. His steps felt heavy as he walked down the stone path leading toward the Eldersâ Hall. A voice whispered in his head, quiet but sharp. He told Father.He told him everything.Sweat rolled down Zeilâs back, and not from heat this time. His stomach twisted. Iâm done for.His father never summoned him here for praise. If the Lord Alpha called, it meant trouble at least 95% of the time. That number always felt too accurate.Each step he took echoed off the marble floor. As he approached the wide double doors of the Elders Hall, memories began flashing behind his eyes. Every moment his father summoned him here.The time he missed his second hunt trial.The day he overslept and his father caught him in bed on an intense training morning.