The Storm at the Gate

The Blackthorn compound wasn’t what Ezra expected.

No chandeliers, no polished floors, none of the gold-and-marble nonsense the elite packs liked to show off. Just rough stone walls, thick wooden beams, and shadows that didn’t just sit there—they felt like they were watching. Like the place was holding its breath.

It didn’t feel powerful.

It felt like it was waiting for something to snap.

Ezra followed Kael down a narrow hallway into a wide, open hall. It wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t empty either. A few wolves lounged near a fire—some sharpening blades, others nursing mugs of something warm. All of them paused when they noticed him.

Not a word was said. But the shift in the air? That said plenty.

Ezra felt it like static on his skin. Unwelcome.

Kael didn’t break stride. Either he didn’t notice the tension, or he just didn’t care.

He led Ezra to a thick set of double doors at the back of the hall and pushed one open. “Your room.”

Ezra stepped inside, bracing for… something grim.

What he got was simple. Stone floor. A bed covered in furs. A small window that let in pale mountain light. No luxuries. No lock on the door. But it was clean. Quiet. Warm.

Safe, maybe.

He turned, lifting a brow. “What, all your strays get the five-star treatment?”

Kael leaned against the frame, arms crossed. “Just you.”

Ezra let out a breath of a laugh, dry. “That supposed to make me feel special?”

Kael didn’t blink. “It’s supposed to make you feel safe.”

Ezra stared at him. In a house full of wolves who looked at him like a problem? Safe was a hard sell.

Kael spoke again, his voice a little slower now. “Most omegas who enter a pack come with bonds. Structure. Someone to guide them, claim them. You’ve got none of that. So I’m doing it differently.”

Ezra sank onto the edge of the bed, studying him. “What’s that mean? What’s your way?”

Kael’s eyes didn’t leave his. “It means you figure it out for yourself. I’m not here to control you.”

Ezra raised a brow. “Not even you?”

Kael’s jaw ticked. “Especially not me.”

The fire crackled faintly in the next room. The silence between them stretched.

Finally, Ezra asked, quieter than he meant to, “Why me?”

Kael didn’t answer right away. His eyes dropped slightly, like he was listening for something that wasn’t in the room.

“My wolf chose you,” he said at last. “But there’s more to it.”

Ezra waited. But Kael didn’t explain—and honestly, Ezra wasn’t sure he wanted the rest of that truth yet.

Kael pushed off the doorframe. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, we talk to the pack.”

Ezra nodded, though something twisted low in his stomach. Whatever tomorrow held, it wouldn’t be easy.

When the door clicked shut behind Kael, the quiet hit like a wave. Ezra laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

His body was tired. His mind wasn’t.

Sleep came late. And when it did, it dragged sharp dreams with it.

---

He woke to shouting.

Not one voice—several. Sharp. Angry. Echoing off stone like a storm battering the walls.

Ezra sat up fast, heart pounding.

He crept to the door and cracked it open, just enough to hear.

“…brought that omega here without a word?” That was the silver-haired guy—Kael’s second-in-command, probably. His voice was sharp enough to draw blood.

Kael’s response came low, steady. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” the man snapped. “Because this looks a hell of a lot like sabotage. The council’s already breathing down our necks. Your bloodline—your curse—is hanging by a thread, and now you tie yourself to a stray no one wanted?”

The silence that followed was thick. Ezra felt it through the door.

Then Kael’s voice—lower now, edged in steel. “Watch your mouth.”

Something crashed—wood splintering. Maybe a chair.

“We’ve stood behind you through worse,” the man said, his voice dropping. “But this? This could tear everything apart.”

Ezra closed the door slowly, the sound of his pulse loud in his ears.

Curse.

He’d heard the rumors. Everyone had. The stories about Kael’s first shift, the mark he carried, the raw, unchecked power that wasn’t supposed to exist in an alpha. But hearing it here—from someone inside—made it real.

He sat back on the bed, jaw tight.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t just about tradition or rebellion or even mating.

There was something deeper at work here. Something dark, coiled just beneath the surface.

---

The sun rose dull and colorless, barely cutting through the clouds outside his window.

Ezra was already up when Kael knocked once and stepped inside.

“You heard,” Kael said.

Ezra didn’t pretend otherwise. “Yeah.”

Kael stepped closer. Not pacing. Just deliberate. Grounded. “I told you it wouldn’t be easy.”

Ezra shrugged, leaning back against the cold stone wall. “Being the outsider’s kind of my thing.”

“It’s not hate,” Kael said quietly. “It’s fear. You’re not what they expect. You break their structure.”

Ezra stood, meeting his eyes. “And picking me? You think that’ll fix anything?”

Kael’s gaze didn’t falter. “No. I think it’ll break the right things.”

Ezra didn’t respond at first. He felt it—that pull in Kael’s words. Not reckless. Not sweet. Just... sure.

Then he asked, softer this time, “That guy last night—he said something about a curse.”

Kael’s jaw twitched. Not denial. Just weariness.

“So it’s true?” Ezra pressed. Not attacking. Just asking.

Kael didn’t rush his answer. The silence that followed wasn’t empty—it was careful.

Ezra took a step closer. “If I’m tied to you—if whatever this is means I’m caught in it too—what happens when the curse stops behaving?”

Kael looked at him—really looked. Like he was asking himself the same thing.

“When that happens,” Kael said, voice low, “you’ll be the only one who sees what’s left of me.”

Ezra didn’t look away.

Didn’t flinch.

And for the first time, he wondered if maybe the storm waiting to break... wasn’t just Kael’s.