like you're mine but not mine

Kael stared out the window of the private plane, his sharp gaze fixed on the endless expanse of clouds. He couldn't shake the unease clawing at him, a feeling that had started the moment he'd left for Astoria Academy. It wasn't just nerves—he was used to pressure, to responsibility. This was different.

His lycan was restless.

No, more than restless—it was agitated, pacing in his mind like a caged beast. Its usual calm dominance was gone, replaced by a primal urgency he couldn't explain. Several times during the flight, Kael had to grip the armrests to steady himself, fighting back the overwhelming need to shift. His claws itched to break free, his fangs threatened to extend, and his eyes—he could feel the golden glow just beneath the surface, demanding to be unleashed.

"What's wrong with me?" he muttered under his breath, trying to focus on anything else.

The guard sitting across from him glanced up but said nothing, wisely choosing to stay silent. Kael clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to keep his lycan in check. It was as if it sensed something—something important, something dangerous.

And then, as the plane drew closer to Astoria, the feeling intensified.

The pull he'd been feeling all day became almost unbearable, like a magnetic force drawing him forward. His heart pounded, his senses sharpened, and every fiber of his being seemed to scream at him to move faster. His lycan surged forward in his mind, urging him to shift, to take control.

But just as suddenly as it came, the pull vanished.

It was like someone had cut a thread that had been binding him, leaving him hollow and disoriented. The absence hit him like a blow, and his lycan roared in rage, slamming against the mental walls Kael had barely managed to erect.

"What the—" He doubled over, gripping the edges of his seat as a low growl escaped his throat. His fangs lengthened against his will, and his claws pierced through the leather of the armrest. The air around him seemed to grow thick, heavy with his growing frustration.

"Your Highness, are you alright?" the guard asked, his voice tight with concern.

Kael barely managed a nod, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. He closed his eyes, trying to steady himself, but his lycan wouldn't let up. It clawed and howled, demanding answers.

The pull—it had felt so real, so right. Like he was on the brink of something monumental, something he'd been waiting for his entire life. And now? It was gone, like a door slammed shut in his face.

"What's happening?" he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

His lycan growled in response, its rage spilling over into Kael's body. His muscles tensed, his vision blurred at the edges, and for a terrifying moment, he thought he might lose control entirely. The urge to shift, to destroy, to hunt was almost unbearable.

"Calm down," he muttered, gripping his temples. "Get a grip."

But his lycan wasn't listening. It was furious, and beneath that fury was something else—something darker. Fear.

Kael frowned, the realization hitting him like a jolt. His lycan wasn't just angry; it felt threatened.

"Threatened by what?" he asked aloud, his voice shaking.

No answer came, but the agitation only grew. His mind raced as he tried to piece it together. The pull he'd felt—it wasn't random. It had been too strong, too deliberate. And the way it had vanished so suddenly… it was as if something—or someone—had severed it.

The thought sent a chill down his spine.

"Is someone trying to hide something from me?" he wondered aloud, his voice barely audible over the roar of his lycan's protests. "But why? What could they possibly—"

His breath hitched as a terrifying possibility crept into his mind. Could it be… his mate?

He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought.

Kael stepped out of the car, his movements stiff as he fought to contain the simmering rage boiling beneath his skin. His lycan was a storm within him, its claws scraping at his mind, demanding release. The bond—or the lack of it—still burned in his chest, an agonizing void where something vital had once been.

The academy loomed ahead, its towering spires offering no solace as Kael marched through its halls. Every step felt heavier, his instincts pulling him toward one destination. Toward Theron.

By the time he reached Theron's door, the tension had become unbearable. His breathing was labored, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His lycan surged forward, and before Kael could brace himself, a roar tore from his throat, shaking the walls around him.

The sound was primal, filled with fury and pain, and it echoed through the corridor like a warning. Kael doubled over, his claws digging into the doorframe as he fought to keep his form from shifting entirely. His lycan didn't care about control—it wanted to tear down every barrier between him and the truth.

And then it hit him.

The reason for his lycan's rage, its restlessness, its agitation.

His mate was here.

Right behind this door.

But something was wrong—terribly wrong. The bond, the sacred connection he had been preparing his whole life for, was being tampered with. Hidden. Smothered by something unnatural.

Kael straightened, his golden eyes blazing with an intensity that seemed capable of melting steel. He threw the door open, his movements fueled by raw rage and a gnawing, inexplicable agony. His mind, clouded by primal instincts, failed to register the shift in height of the figure standing before him.

The door crashed against the wall with a thunderous bang, the impact reverberating through the room. Theron, standing by his desk, jumped at the sudden intrusion. His startled gaze snapped to the towering silhouette in the doorway.

Kael's presence was overwhelming, a force of nature barely contained. His broad shoulders filled the frame, casting long, ominous shadows across the room. Claws extended, fangs bared, his chest heaved with every labored breath. The hallway's dim light caught the molten gold of his eyes, now glowing with an almost feral intensity.

For a heartbeat, the room seemed frozen in time. Kael's primal instincts surged, the lycan within him snarling and clawing for control. His glowing gaze locked onto Theron, and for the briefest moment, he hesitated.

Then it hit him—that feeling.

It had been stalking him all day, like a whisper at the edge of his consciousness, a ghostly thread pulling at his soul. Now, in Theron's presence, it roared to life, drowning out everything else. His lycan howled in his mind, an insistent chant of Mine. Mine. Mine.

"Kael?" Theron's voice broke the silence, hesitant and trembling. It carried confusion, a flicker of fear, and something else—something that cut through Kael's haze like a blade.

Theron instinctively stepped back, his movements slow and measured, though his towering stature made the retreat seem more significant than it was. His wide eyes searched Kael's face, as if trying to understand what had caused his best friend to storm into the room like a predator cornering prey.

Kael's gaze sharpened at the sound of Theron's voice, the familiarity tugging at his fractured thoughts. His golden eyes swept over Theron, taking in every detail—the nervous flicker of his hands, the faint sheen of sweat on his brow, the way his chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. Rationality began to creep in, but his lycan remained restless, a beast clawing at the cage of his restraint.

"What… did you do?" Kael growled, his voice low and guttural, vibrating with barely suppressed fury.

Theron flinched at the accusation, his hands raising slightly as if to placate his enraged friend. "Kael, I didn't—"

Kael cut him off, his voice rising, a mixture of anger and desperation. "Why is every cell in my body screaming that you're mine?" His claws flexed at his sides, the sound of them scraping against the wooden doorframe echoing in the room. "My lycan, my soul—everything inside me keeps telling me that you belong to me. But I can't feel the bond. I can't sense it. I can't smell you like I should. Why?"

His voice cracked, the confusion bleeding through his anger. His glowing eyes softened for a fraction of a second, revealing the turmoil beneath the surface. "Why can't I feel you, Theron? Why does it feel like you're mine but not mine?"

Theron blinked, his mind racing. Oh no. Oh no no no. He knows.

"Rex," Theron hissed under his breath. "What is happening?."

Rex's mechanical voice hummed to life, calm and precise despite the tension in the room. "The bond nullifier seems to have failed. It appears that the mate bond for lycans is significantly stronger than anticipated, particularly for royalty. The nullifier was insufficient to mask the connection."

Kael's ears twitched at the sound, his glowing golden eyes narrowing as he shifted his focus to the device. The sharp tension in the air thickened, Kael's fury simmering just beneath the surface as he growled low in his throat.

Theron swallowed hard, his hands clenching at his sides. His gaze darted between Rex and Kael, panic clawing at his chest as he realized the implications of what Rex had just revealed.

Theron groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Fuck!"

Kael's snarl ripped through the room, a sound so raw and primal that it froze Theron in place. The air grew heavy, suffused with the suffocating tension of a predator poised to strike. Kael took a menacing step forward, his claws flexing at his sides as his glowing golden eyes locked onto Theron with a feral intensity.

"Bond nullifier?" Kael growled, the words laced with venom. His voice was a dangerous rumble, barely restrained. "Does that mean what I think it means, Theron?"

Theron staggered back, his pulse hammering in his ears like a frantic drumbeat. His hands shot up, palms out like he was placating a skittish horse—not because he feared Kael would hurt him. No, that wasn't it. He trusted Kael implicitly. What terrified him was something far more fragile, far more dangerous. "Kael, please—wait. I can explain—"

"Explain?" Kael's laugh was sharp, bitter, and devoid of humor. The sound sent a shiver down Theron's spine. "You think you can explain away this?" He gestured to himself, his claws gleaming in the dim light, his body trembling as he fought the shift clawing at his skin. His lycan instincts surged, wild and uncontrollable, as if enraged by the invisible barrier separating him from his mate.

Kael's breaths came in short, ragged gasps, his chest heaving as his body began to shift involuntarily. His bones cracked audibly, his muscles rippling beneath his skin. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the transformation, but his lycan wasn't listening. It wanted out. It wanted its mate.

"When will this bond nullifier wear off?" Kael demanded, his voice trembling with barely restrained fury. He spat the words 'bond nullifier' like a curse, his tone thick with disgust.

"Forty-eight hours," Theron stammered, his voice weak, barely audible over the sound of Kael's bones snapping and reforming.

Kael's entire body tensed at the response, his claws gouging deep grooves into the table he was gripping for support. His glowing eyes burned brighter, and a guttural growl escaped his lips. "Forty-eight!" he roared, his voice a thunderous explosion of rage. "Fucking hours?"

Theron flinched, his mind racing as he scrambled for a way to defuse the situation. "Rex," he whispered urgently, his voice trembling. "Why is he like this? Why can't he calm down?"

Rex's mechanical voice responded with infuriating calm, its tone clinical and detached. "The nullifier's interference has likely aggravated his lycan instincts," it explained. "The suppression of the mate bond has created an imbalance, resulting in heightened aggression and emotional volatility. In simpler terms, you have angered a very powerful predator."

Kael's claws dug deeper into the table, the wood splintering beneath his grip. His breaths came in ragged pants, his body shaking as his wolf howled for release. He knew if he shifted now, he wouldn't be able to stop himself. His lycan's instincts would take over, and he'd do what his nature demanded—mark his mate, consequences be damned.

With a visible effort, Kael pushed himself back from the brink. He straightened, his claws retracting slightly as he forced his body to obey his will. His golden eyes burned into Theron's, a mix of fury and something deeper—betrayal, pain, and longing.

"I will be back in forty-eight hours," Kael said, his voice low and guttural, every word dripping with menace. "And when I return, I expect a damn good explanation."

Theron swallowed hard, his throat dry as sandpaper. "Kael, I—"

Kael cut him off with a sharp snarl. "If you run," he growled, his voice deadly quiet, "if you hide, I will find you. And when I do, there will be no explanations. There will only be punishment."

Without another word, Kael turned and stalked toward the window. His movements were fluid yet predatory, his body coiled with barely contained energy. He threw the window open and leapt into the night, shifting mid-air into his massive lycan form. His dark fur gleamed under the moonlight as he landed gracefully on all fours and bolted into the forest, his growls echoing into the night.

Theron stood frozen, staring after him as his mind reeled. His heart pounded in his chest, the weight of Kael's parting words pressing down on him like a physical force.

He sank into the nearest chair, his hands trembling as he buried his face in them. Forty-eight hours. That was all the time he had to figure out how to face Kael when the inevitable rejection came.