Beneath the crown

The main hall felt colder than it had the night before.

Ezra stood just behind Kael, trying not to fidget as the Blackthorn pack filtered in. Wolves in dark clothes filled the room, all hard eyes and stiff shoulders. If this was family, it looked more like one that hadn’t spoken in years—more cold war than warm welcome.

No one smiled.

No one nodded.

They didn’t want him here—and they weren’t hiding it.

The only sounds were the wind slipping through the high rafters and the occasional cough from one of the elders seated near the fire. Then came the voice Ezra had been waiting for—sharp, unimpressed, already halfway done with him.

“So, Kael. Explain this.”

Alric. Silver-haired, sharp-tongued, and still bitter from last night’s power shift. He’d been Kael’s second once—maybe still was—but the way he was glaring now made it clear: Ezra had screwed up the order of things just by existing.

Kael didn’t blink. “Ezra’s my mate. That’s all they need to know.”

Alric scoffed, loud and full of bite. “Your mate? Based on what—some gut feeling? That wasn’t tradition, Kael. That wasn’t logic.”

Kael stayed steady. “It was my wolf.”

Someone in the back didn’t even try to whisper: “The pack’s already cursed. Now he brings in some stray?”

Ezra exhaled through his nose, slow and careful. He wasn’t going to let them get to him—not here, not like this. But his pulse was climbing.

Alric turned toward him, expression hard. “You, omega. You have any idea what it means to carry this name—this legacy?”

Ezra tilted his head and offered a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “You mean the one that’s barely holding itself together? Sounds like a dream job.”

A few wolves shifted. Someone snorted under their breath.

Kael’s mouth twitched.

But Alric stepped closer, tone dropping to something darker. And Ezra finally saw it—it wasn’t just about him. This wasn’t even about him. It was about Kael. About power slipping out of hands that thought it would always be theirs. Ezra was just the excuse.

“You think this is funny?” Alric growled.

“No,” Ezra said, voice calm. “I think this is a pack that’s so scared of change it’d rather burn itself down than let someone like me in.”

The air tightened like a pulled cord.

Ezra felt it before he saw it—pressure, heat, something stormy rising behind him. Kael.

He glanced over his shoulder.

Kael’s shoulders were locked, eyes gone darker than before, and the weight of his wolf was bleeding into the room. Ezra’s breath hitched.

“Kael,” he said, low but firm. “Don’t.”

Kael blinked once, jaw flexing as he pulled in a breath. The tension eased—but just barely.

Alric noticed.

“This is what you brought into the house,” he said, jabbing a finger at Ezra but talking to Kael. “This—this bond—is a mistake, and it’s going to drag you down with it.”

Kael stepped forward. Not fast, not loud—just enough to make the room hold its breath.

“You’re mistaking control for weakness, Alric,” he said, voice like steel wrapped in calm. “Don’t do it again.”

Alric held his ground but didn’t reply.

Kael turned to the pack, addressing everyone now. “I didn’t ask for your permission. I gave you a choice. Stand with us, or step aside.”

The room murmured—unsteady, unsure. Some wolves nodded, hesitant. A few crossed their arms. The elders exchanged slow glances. No one moved to challenge him, but the room was a fault line waiting to crack.

Ezra felt it deep—like standing in a house that wasn’t his, knowing an earthquake was coming.

Later, when the crowd had thinned and only echoes followed them through the halls, Kael led him back toward the quieter wing of the compound.

“You didn’t back down,” Kael said after a long silence.

Ezra gave a soft, tired snort. “Didn’t feel like I had a choice.”

“You held your ground better than most ranked wolves would’ve.”

Ezra looked at him sideways. “They’re not gonna stop, are they?”

“No,” Kael said simply. “But you don’t need them to stop. You just need to stand tall long enough for them to shut up.”

They kept walking. Just the sound of their steps, and whatever this was building between them—something neither of them had fully named yet.

Then Ezra asked, quietly, “What happens if you break, Kael?”

Kael stopped.

He didn’t turn immediately. When he did, his face was different—less alpha, less untouchable. Just… human. Tired. Carrying too much.

“Then I hope,” Kael said, voice low, “you’ll look me in the eye… and remind me who the hell I am.”

Ezra stared at him.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t promise anything.

He just nodded—small. Quiet.

Not an oath.

Just a choice.