I am ready

Kael paced the length of his room, his steps quick and agitated. Tomorrow was the day—the Rite of Awakening. It was the moment he had been waiting for his entire life, the event that would mark his passage into full lycan maturity. By this time tomorrow, he would finally be able to sense his mate, the one destined to be his other half. It should have filled him with excitement, anticipation, even pride.

But it didn't.

All he could think about was Theron.

For three long days, Theron had been ignoring him. Three days without a single call answered, without that familiar, bright smile lighting up his screen. Three days since he'd last seen those silver eyes, always sharp and full of warmth, now dull and shadowed in a way that haunted him.

Kael raked a hand through his dark hair, his frustration mounting. Something was wrong. He could feel it, deep in his chest, like a claw raking against his heart. It was a strange, restless ache, one that only grew worse the more he thought about it.

Had he done something? Said something?

The questions plagued him, twisting his thoughts into knots. Theron had always been there—his steady, brilliant best friend who could fix anything, whether it was a broken gadget or Kael's own impulsive mistakes. But now, when Kael needed him most, he was gone, unreachable, leaving Kael to stew in his own turbulent emotions.

He sank onto the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. "What's going on with you, Theron?" he muttered under his breath. The thought of something being wrong with Theron, of him being hurt or upset, gnawed at Kael's insides like a predator stalking its prey.

A knock at the door pulled him from his spiraling thoughts.

"Your Highness, the king summons you," came the voice of a maid from the other side.

Kael straightened, pushing his turmoil aside. "Understood," he replied, his voice steadier than he felt. He rose to his feet, quickly smoothing his clothes and raking a hand through his hair again in a half-hearted attempt to appear composed.

---

The meeting room was vast and imposing, a space designed to command respect and awe. The long, rectangular table at its center was carved from dark ebony wood, polished to a mirror-like sheen. Intricate carvings of wolves and crescent moons ran along its edges, a testament to the craftsmanship of the Dravenheart lineage. High-backed chairs, upholstered in deep crimson leather, lined both sides of the table, each one reserved for the most powerful alphas in the kingdom.

The walls were adorned with banners bearing the sigils of the various lycan clans—each one a blend of primal ferocity and regal elegance. Above them hung grand tapestries depicting legendary battles and the rise of the Dravenheart dynasty. The floor was a smooth expanse of black marble, veined with streaks of gold that seemed to shimmer under the soft glow of the chandeliers overhead.

At the head of the table sat Alaric Dravenheart, the King of Lycans. His presence was as commanding as the room itself. Golden eyes, identical to Kael's, glowed with an intensity that seemed to pierce through to the very soul of anyone who dared meet his gaze. His hair, a rich, dark brown streaked with silver, was pulled back into a neat braid that rested against his broad shoulders. His features were sharp, almost predatory, with a strong jawline and high cheekbones that spoke of his noble lineage. He wore a fitted black tunic with gold embroidery, the Dravenheart crest—a wolf howling at a crescent moon—emblazoned on his chest.

Despite his seated position, Alaric exuded an aura of raw power and authority, a silent reminder of why he was the king.

The alphas seated along the table were no less intimidating. Each one was a force to be reckoned with, their presence heavy with dominance and strength. There was Alpha Varek of the Blackfang clan, a massive man with a thick, grizzled beard and scars crisscrossing his weathered face. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room like a predator sizing up its prey.

Beside him sat Alpha Liora of the Shadowmane clan, her lithe frame cloaked in dark silks. Her amber eyes were sharp and calculating, a predator's gaze softened only slightly by the faint smirk that played on her lips.

Further down was Alpha Roderic of the Bloodhowl clan, his fiery red hair and matching beard making him stand out among the others. His sheer size was imposing, his arms as thick as tree trunks, crossed over his chest in a show of quiet defiance.

Each alpha carried themselves with a mix of pride and menace, their very presence a testament to the strength of their respective clans.

Kael stepped into the room, his shoulders squared, though his heart was still heavy with thoughts of Theron. His golden eyes scanned the gathered alphas before landing on his father.

"You summoned me, Father," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside him.

Alaric's gaze flicked to his son, a hint of approval in his otherwise stoic expression. "Kael, we are discussing the preparations for your Rite of Awakening tomorrow. As my heir, your role in this event will set the tone for the kingdom's future."

Kael nodded, moving to take his place beside his father. But even as he tried to focus on the discussion, his mind kept drifting back to Theron, to the unanswered calls, the dull silver eyes, and the unshakable feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Alaric's golden eyes swept over the room, commanding silence. When he spoke, his voice was deep and resonant, each word carrying the weight of his authority.

"As you all know, tomorrow marks the Rite of Awakening for my son, Kael Dravenheart, the next in line to the throne. This sacred ritual is not just a test of strength but a trial of spirit, resilience, and connection to our ancestors."

Kael shifted in his seat, forcing himself to focus. He had been preparing for this moment his entire life, yet the specifics of the ritual had always been shrouded in mystery, spoken of only in fragments.

Alpha Liora leaned forward, her amber eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Will the ceremony follow the traditional path, Your Majesty, or have there been modifications to reflect the... uniqueness of the heir?"

Kael's jaw tightened at the subtle jab, but Alaric's expression remained impassive.

"The ritual will adhere to tradition," Alaric replied smoothly. "Kael will undergo the three spiritual trials as our ancestors have for generations. The Trial of the Spirit, where he will commune with the essence of the lycan ancestors to prove his resolve and purity of heart. The Trial of the Soul, where he will face a vision quest to confront his deepest fears and desires. And finally, the Trial of the Bond, where he will open his heart and spirit to the call of his destined mate, awakening the bond that connects them."

At the mention of the last trial, Kael's stomach twisted. His mate. The one who would complete him. Yet all he could think about was the gnawing emptiness left by Theron's silence.

Alpha Varek's gravelly voice cut through his thoughts. "The boy is strong, no doubt. But is he ready for the Trial of the Bond? It is not just about finding a mate. It's about proving he can bear the weight of the bond, the responsibilities it entails."

Kael's gaze snapped to Varek, his golden eyes narrowing. "I am ready," he said firmly, his voice steady despite the unease roiling inside him.

Varek grunted, clearly unimpressed, but Alaric raised a hand, silencing any further comment. "Kael's readiness is not up for debate. The Rite of Awakening is not a test to see if he is ready—it is the forge that will make him ready. The trials will speak for themselves."

There was a murmur of agreement around the table, though Kael could feel the weight of scrutiny from the gathered alphas.

Alpha Roderic leaned forward, his fiery red hair catching the light. "And what of the security for the ceremony? With tensions rising among the clans, we cannot ignore the possibility of disruptions."

Kael's ears perked at this, his unease momentarily replaced by curiosity. "What tensions?" he asked, his tone sharp.

Alaric's gaze flicked to his son, a brief pause before he answered. "There have been... disagreements among the clans regarding territorial disputes and resource allocations. Nothing that cannot be resolved, but it is a reminder that vigilance is always required."

Liora's smirk returned, her tone dripping with amusement. "Disagreements is a mild term, Your Majesty. Bloodhowl and Lee nearly came to blows last month over hunting rights near the Crescent Glade."

Kael's fists clenched under the table. His Rite of Awakening was supposed to be a celebration, a moment of unity. The idea that it could be overshadowed by petty squabbles angered him.

"What measures are in place to ensure the ceremony remains undisturbed?" he asked, his voice laced with steel.

Alaric nodded approvingly at his son's assertiveness. "The High Guard will be stationed around the ritual grounds. No one will enter without my express permission. And the ceremony itself will be protected by ancient wards, as it always has been."

"Ancient wards are all well and good," Varek rumbled, "but spirit and strength are what truly ensure success."

Alaric's golden eyes gleamed. "And you will have both, Varek. I trust you will ensure your warriors are ready should the need arise."

Varek inclined his head, his expression grim but resolute.

As the discussion shifted to logistics and clan politics, Kael's thoughts began to drift again. The Rite of Awakening loomed large in his mind, its details both exhilarating and terrifying. But no matter how hard he tried to focus on the ceremony, his mind kept circling back to Theron.

Would Theron even call to wish him luck? The thought of going through it all without his best friend's support made Kael's chest ache.

"Kael," Alaric's voice broke through his thoughts, drawing his attention back to the room. "Do you have any questions about tomorrow?"

Kael straightened, forcing his expression into one of confidence. "No, Father. I am ready."

Alaric studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Good. Then we shall end this meeting here. Rest well, Kael. Tomorrow, you will forge your connection to our lineage and prove yourself worthy of the Dravenheart legacy."

As the alphas began to rise and file out of the room, Kael remained seated, his gaze fixed on the intricate carvings of the table. The weight of expectation pressed heavily on his shoulders, but it was nothing compared to the emptiness left by Theron's absence.

He resolved then and there to confront Theron as soon as the Rite was over. Whatever was wrong, he would fix it. He had to.