it was always you

Kael barely registered Lirien's stunned shout behind him as he stormed down the academy corridors, his heart a wild, unrelenting force pounding against his ribs. His pulse roared in his ears, drowning out everything—footsteps, whispers, the curious glances of passing students. None of it mattered.

Only Theron mattered.

Desperation clawed at him, an ugly, suffocating thing. He had to find him. Now.

Kael inhaled sharply, tracking the scent that had always been as familiar to him as his own—amber, honey, and cold rain. It was faint but still there, lingering in the air, guiding him forward. His lycan stirred within him, restless, his instincts screaming that something was wrong.

He followed the scent like a predator on the hunt, moving faster, pushing forward with single-minded determination.

But underneath the urgency, beneath the desperation, was something darker.

Fear.

For the first time in his life, Kael wasn't sure if he could fix this.

He had always been able to smooth things over with Theron. Always found a way to make him laugh, to tease him out of a bad mood. But this wasn't just irritation.

This was pain.

Real, raw, aching pain.

And Kael had caused it.

That thought sliced through him, sharp and unforgiving, leaving a hollow ache in its wake.

Because if Theron—his Theron—was hurting because of him, then Kael had failed.

And he couldn't, wouldn't let that happen.

His mate was his.

And he would do whatever it took to make him see that.

Kael rounded another corner, inhaling deeply, his pulse spiking. Closer. Theron was close.

His fists clenched as he braced himself.

This time, he wouldn't just stand there.

This time, he wouldn't let Theron walk away.

Kael found him in his room.

His room.

The realization knocked the breath from his lungs. He had searched the entire academy—scoured hallways, classrooms, courtyards—only to find Theron here, in the one place Kael hadn't thought to check.

Theron sat on his bed, calm, composed, like he hadn't just shattered Kael's world.

But something was different.

Kael froze in the doorway, his breath catching.

Theron wasn't the same.

His silver hair was messier than usual, strands falling over his mismatched eyes. His clothes were tattered, barely clinging to his frame. And—

Kael's breath hitched.

He was taller.

Not by much, but noticeably so.

The gnome who had always been small, compact, precise—was now over five feet tall.

And he was half-naked.

Kael swallowed hard, his throat dry. His mate—his mate—was sitting there, changed, taller.

Theron didn't even look up.

"I told you not to follow me." His voice was quiet, controlled—but Kael could hear the edge beneath it, the exhaustion, the weight of something unspoken.

Kael took a step forward, forcing himself to focus. Focus.

"What happened?" His voice was rough, laced with concern. "Why did you shift?"

Theron let out a slow breath, finally lifting his gaze. His eyes were unreadable, distant. "It seems," he said evenly, "that there are lingering side effects from my latest creation—the Bond Veil."

Kael stiffened.

"The Veil?"

Theron hummed, his fingers absently flipping through the pages of a worn notebook on his lap. "Apparently," he continued, voice laced with something almost mocking, "when my emotions become… unstable, the effects manifest in unpredictable ways. Hence the shift."

Kael's stomach twisted.

The Bond Veil. The thing Theron had created to hide himself from his mate.

Him.

His emotions must have spiked. Because of Kael.

Kael exhaled sharply. "And… the other side effects?"

Theron didn't answer.

Instead, he snapped his notebook shut and finally—finally—looked at him.

"Why did you follow me, Kael?"

Kael flinched.

That wasn't an answer.

Theron was avoiding the question.

Kael stepped closer. "Theron—"

"No."

Theron's voice cracked like a whip, sharp and angry, and Kael actually flinched.

That had never happened before.

Theron had never raised his voice at him.

Not like this.

Not with so much pain.

Kael's chest ached.

"Theron, please," he whispered, stepping forward, desperate. "Just—just listen to me."

Theron let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

"Oh? Now you want to talk?"

Kael's breath hitched.

Theron's mismatched eyes burned with something Kael had never seen before.

Betrayal.

Anguish.

"You want to talk," Theron continued, his voice shaking, "after years of watching you throw yourself at every girl who so much as looked at you? After realizing that your mate has been standing right in front of you this entire time, watching you make a mockery of the bond—"

His voice broke.

Kael felt it.

"You never even considered that your mate might be there, waiting for you," Theron whispered, his fingers curling into fists. "You never thought about what that meant. You didn't even care."

Kael's breath came fast. "That's not true—"

Theron laughed again, sharp and broken. "Isn't it?"

Kael took a step closer, but Theron held up a hand, stopping him.

Don't.

That single motion gutted him.

"You never respected the bond," Theron said, voice quieter now, but no less devastating. "You never respected your mate."

Kael staggered.

His mate.

His Theron.

And he had made him feel unwanted.

Kael's throat closed. "Theron," he whispered, "I didn't know."

Theron's gaze was sharp, unforgiving. "Of course you didn't."

Silence stretched between them.

Kael could feel his heartbeat—fast, uneven.

And then, finally—

Theron's voice dropped to a whisper.

"…Do you know what it's like?"

Kael's breath caught.

"Do you know what it's like," Theron murmured, "to be bonded to someone who never took that bond seriously?"

The words hit like a knife.

Kael's fists clenched. "Theron—"

"I am scared."

Kael froze.

Theron exhaled shakily.

"I am too scared to love you Kael." His voice wavered. 

Kael sucked in a breath, raw and desperate. "Theron—"

Theron met his gaze, his eyes wet, his lips trembling.

Kael moved.

He grabbed Theron's wrist, holding it tightly—desperately.

Theron froze.

Kael's grip was tight—unshakable.

"I see you," Kael whispered. His voice was hoarse, filled with everything he had never been brave enough to say.

Theron's breath hitched.

"I love you," Kael whispered.

A sharp, unsteady inhale.

Kael swallowed hard.

" I always have."

Theron stood frozen, his breath shallow, his fingers trembling at his sides. His mismatched eyes—one molten amber, one stormy grey—searched Kael's face as if trying to decipher a cruel joke.

The words lingered in the air between them, fragile and dangerous.

"I love you."

They shouldn't have meant anything. They shouldn't have shaken him to his very core.

And yet…

"You love me?" The words barely left his lips, hoarse and uncertain. He didn't even recognize his own voice.

Kael nodded. No hesitation. No flinch. Just raw, open honesty. His usually bright golden eyes burned with something Theron had never seen before—something deep, something vulnerable.

"I do," Kael said, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. "I have for a long time."

Theron's heart pounded. No. No, that can't be right.

He shook his head. "No. You—you're lying."

Kael took a step closer. "I'm not."

"You can't love me," Theron argued, his voice rising. "You never showed it! You flirted with every girl, you—you played around, you—" His breath hitched as he forced himself to keep speaking, to keep fighting against the overwhelming tide of emotions crashing over him. "You never acted like I was anything more than your best friend. You never once—"

Kael cut him off. "Because I was scared."

Theron swallowed hard, his throat tight.

Kael exhaled sharply, running a shaky hand through his hair. "Do you think I wanted to feel this way? Do you think I planned to fall in love with my best friend, my male best friend? In a world where I was supposed to have some mysterious girl out there waiting for me?" His voice cracked with frustration, with the weight of years of self-denial.

Theron's breathing was uneven.

Kael took another step forward, desperation flickering in his gaze. "I didn't want to love you, Theron. But I did. I do. And no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I flirted with others, no matter how much I told myself it was just a phase—" His voice dropped to a whisper. "It was always you."

Theron felt like he was drowning.

His heart was hammering in his chest, his mind scrambling to make sense of this new reality.

Kael had… always loved him?

Always?

Theron clenched his fists. "No. That doesn't make sense. You ignored the bond. You—you acted like it wasn't real, like it didn't matter—"

Kael winced, guilt flashing across his face. "Because I thought if I ignored it, it would go away. I thought if I could just—just pretend, then maybe it wouldn't be real. Maybe it wouldn't ruin everything."

Theron let out a bitter laugh, his chest aching. "And now that it is real, what? You just expect me to forget all of it? To pretend it doesn't hurt? Kael, I spent years watching you throw yourself at people who weren't me. I spent years feeling that I was nothing to you." His voice broke. "And now you're telling me you loved me all along?"

Kael's face twisted in anguish. "You were never nothing to me."

Theron turned away, chest heaving, trying to steady himself. His thoughts were racing too fast, emotions colliding violently inside him.

Kael had loved him.

All this time.