King of the Jungle

(Kael’s pov)

“My wife is dead.”

The words tasted wrong in my mouth. I stared at Eloween’s body crumpled against the marble floor, my hands slick, red soaking into the cuffs of my sleeves. The phone was pressed to my ear, heavy as iron.

Father didn’t breathe on the other end. I could hear the night instead. Wind. Sirens. The low crackle of something burning where our living room used to be.

“What are you saying?” my father asked at last.

“My wife is dead, Father. Eloween is dead.”

I looked up. The house glared back at me, blackened and hollow, like it was watching.

“Kael—”

“The children,” I cut in, because if I stopped, I would shatter. “Alden and Lyra have been taken to the hospital.” My jaw locked. The memory clawed at my throat—small bodies limp, too still. “Eloween tried to…”

The word wouldn’t come. I dragged in air until my chest burned. I couldn't bring myself to say that my wife had tried to kill our children by filling them up with a sleeping syrup, so I took a deep breath.“Please inform the Regent. Send someone to clean everything up. I don’t want them coming back to this.”

The call ended.

I still see that night when I close my eyes. Not because I want to—because it refuses to leave.

**** ******

In our world, death like hers demanded speed. No questions. No open casket. Eloween was buried before the sun finished its climb.

I should have felt something softer as the casket sank. A hollow ache. A pull. Instead, my jaw locked and my nails cut into my palms. Six years. That was all it took for a marriage to end on the exact day it began. The priest’s voice blurred into dirt hitting wood, each thud striking sharper than the last. I didn’t look away. I wouldn’t give her that mercy.

Father’s hand rested on my shoulder, steady, familiar. I couldn’t tell if he was grounding me or borrowing my spine. When I met his eyes, they searched my face too carefully. He looked smaller than he used to. Older. I straightened without thinking. If he bent now, I would have to stand twice as hard. Obsidian Vale didn’t tolerate cracks, not in walls, not in Alphas.

The brotherhood filled the grounds. Every rank. Every blade. Moonvein stood among them, his presence quiet but absolute, his wife at his side. Regent. Witness. The only one who knew what truly ended Eloween’s life. I would report to him later. Formally. Cleanly. For now, I endured the hands on my back, the murmurs that slid past my ears like blades meant to miss but still cut.

“She was so young.”

“He killed her.”

“They fought the night before, everyone heard.”

I kept my gaze forward. My children were spared the words. My son, five years old, still tugged at my sister’s sleeve asking when his mother would wake up. Sofia slept against my chest, warm and oblivious, never having learned the shape of Eloween’s voice. Heat surged up my spine. I swallowed it down. Slow. Controlled. Too many eyes were waiting for me to slip.

They all were.

Afterward, the mansion filled with the sound of people pretending to be hungry. Mother eased Sofia from my arms and carried her away, careful, like she might break. My sister, Samira, lifted my son, pressing her forehead to his as she whispered something that made him nod solemnly. They offered, both of them. To keep the children. To help.

But Mother was too old, and Samira had pups who still needed her whole. The offers faded without being taken back. We all understood.

Father watched me from across the room. “You look tired,” he said.

I rubbed my thumb along the edge of the table. There was a nick there I didn’t remember making. “I haven’t really been sleeping.”

He nodded, slow. Like he already knew. The children cried themselves hoarse every night. When they finally went quiet, I stayed awake anyway. Eloween’s face flashed, bloodless, empty and I crushed the thought before it could take hold.

Father shifted, gripping his walking stick. “You need to find a mother for your children.”

The room went still..

“Azrik,” Mother snapped softly..

Mother approached slowly, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. “You can’t be serious,” she whispered, voice low, almost venomous. “It’s too soon.”

He didn’t turn. “It’s never too soon,” he replied quietly. “Obsidian Vale does not pause for grief, and neither can Kael. If we hesitate, the pack will notice weakness. And weakness invites disaster.”

Her hands clenched at her sides. “I didn’t raise him to be a pawn in some political game. He’s still grieving!”

Father’s jaw tightened. “And yet the pack, the children, the land… none of them care about his grief. A man must act. Kael must act. If not for him, then for the heirs, for Obsidian Vale itself.”

Mother shook her head, lips pressing into a thin line. “You want him to marry again? Already? Less than a day after… after Eloween…”

“Yes.” His voice was firm, resolute, leaving no room for argument. “We need a mother for the children. We need an alliance secured. Kael will comply or the consequences will be far worse than a grieving heart.”

She stepped closer, her voice a whisper now, tense with anger and fear. “And what if he refuses?”

Father didn’t even glance at her. His eyes locked on me, steady, unrelenting. He didn’t need to say it—I had no time to grieve Eloween. I wasn’t sure I wanted another woman, not yet, not ever. But my wants didn’t matter. The Moon Goddess’s rules didn’t care about what I felt.

“The children need a mother in their life,” he said, voice low but heavy. “And you need a wife to take care of you. You know what will happen if you remain unmarried. Your position as King Alpha of Obsidian will be threatened.”

I felt the words press against my chest, like steel on my ribs. My hands curled into fists at my sides.

“Eloween never cared for him,” Samira muttered, scrunching her face. She hadn’t forgiven my late wife.

“Keep quiet, Samira,” I snapped. Her eyes flicked to mine, sharp, rolling briefly, then she shut her mouth.

Mother’s lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze pinching. “I suppose you already have someone in mind for Kael.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Samira said, voice low but sharp. “Every pack with eligible daughters must have already contacted Father.”

Her words landed like stone. I didn’t need her to tell me, I already knew. I was the only Alpha without a Luna. I was a hot commodity. My pulse ticked faster, tight and steady. I pressed my palms against my thighs to stop the tremor.

The regent and his wife stepped closer, quiet, measured. “If you need a break from your duties, let me know,” he said.

“No,” I replied immediately. My voice was flat, but my hands itched to move, to grip something. A break would be a weakness. A crack. I couldn’t afford that. Obsidian was mine. My teeth clenched. No one else would hold it.

The regent’s lips curved, just a fraction, satisfaction flickering across his features. “Listen. I know it’s not a good time right now, but my brother has approached me with a proposal.”

“A proposal about what?” I asked, though my jaw had already clenched before the words left my mouth. I didn’t need to ask to know.

“My brother has a daughter,” the regent said, his tone careful, measured, “who isn’t promised to anyone. She could be the perfect bride for you. And I think about the union between your Pack and their city. It would solidify your position forever.”

I blinked, slow. Tried to picture her. Nothing. Regent’s brother had always been a weak Alpha, a shadow in the council. I couldn’t even remember his daughter—she had no presence, no weight.

“Why isn’t she married yet?” My voice was sharper than I intended. High-ranking or not, someone her age should already have been promised, unless there was something wrong.

Her father’s failure answered before I could. “Her engagement was called off. The man she was to marry… ran off with a prostitute.”

I froze. That explained nothing. My chest tightened, a low coil of unease curling up my spine.

Regent’s eyes flicked to mine. “She didn’t know him. He ran off before they were even introduced.”

“Three months,” he added quickly, as if speed could make it easier. “You can marry her in three months. At least then it wouldn’t be so close to Eloween’s funeral.”

I frowned, sharp. “Why three months?”

“That’s when she turns twenty”

Twenty. I stared at him, then at Father. Something in the room shifted. Their faces expecting, insistent, looked suddenly monstrous. My throat went dry.

The girl… was Ten years younger than me. Ten. My hands curled into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms. I had to step back, blink twice, shake the thought from my head before it became real.

‘'The girl is 10years younger than me?"

“Look around, Kael,” Father said, voice low, insistent. “Look where you are. This girl is your best option. The only option.”

I curled my fingers until my knuckles burned. The room felt too small. Too many ears. “I don’t think we should be having this conversation.”

The regent didn’t blink. He stepped closer, close enough that I caught the faint scent of ash and power clinging to him. “You know the rules, Kael. Better than anyone. Don’t take too long to think about it.”

He turned and walked away, his wife falling into step beside him.

I stayed where I was.

The message rang loud enough without words. I knew the rules. Everyone did. No one disobeyed the regent and kept their crown. I’d ended lives for less defiance than this. My jaw tightened until it hurt.

I left before anyone could stop me.

On the night of the following day, the night air cut cold as I pulled my phone from my pocket. My thumb hovered once, then pressed the Alpha Darius, the father of the girl I was supposed to marry.

Alpha Darius Valecrest.

He answered on the third ring. “Kael.What a pleasant surprise. I suppose you’ve come to a decision about my daughter.”

My mouth felt dry. I stared out at the dark stretch of Obsidian land, at everything that could be taken from me. “Darius,” I said.

A pause. Careful. Expectant.

“Yes,” I continued, forcing the words out, one after the other. “I’d like to marry your daughter.”