Chapter 7: Fractures in the Alpha’s Control
(Kael's POV)
The moon was high, but sleep refused to come.
Kael sat on the edge of his bed, fingers clenched around the edge of the mattress, eyes burning holes into the floor. He had stripped off his shirt hours ago, hoping to calm his body's heat — but it wasn't physical. It was something deeper. Gnawing. Persistent.
It was her voice.
Her calm voice in the hallway. The way she looked at Elara without flinching. The way she didn't look at him.
She's not the same.
His wolf paced restlessly beneath his skin, growling every time her face appeared in his thoughts. And it appeared far too often. That should've been a warning.
Kael stood abruptly, crossing the room and stepping out onto the balcony that overlooked the sleeping pack grounds. The wind was cool, brushing against his bare skin like a balm, but it didn't soothe him.
Not tonight.
Below, the training field sat quiet under moonlight. The same place she'd stood earlier, fearless and poised, knocking down warriors like she'd never left.
He leaned on the railing, eyes scanning the darkness.
She came back with a purpose.
But what was it?
She hadn't spoken to him. Hadn't acknowledged him. Not once.
That should've made things easier. Cleaner.
Instead, it made the silence unbearable.
His wolf growled again.
Ours. Still ours.
Kael bared his teeth. "No," he muttered aloud. "She's not. I rejected her."
But the bond hadn't fully quieted. Something still pulled.
And worse — it ached.
He turned away from the balcony and forced himself to sleep, but dreams betrayed him. The scent of lilac and rain chased him even there.
Morning
Kael arrived at the training field before sunrise. The dew was still fresh on the grass, the air crisp with quiet.
He hadn't expected anyone to be there.
So when he saw Leif and Arielle in the ring, laughter bubbling between low grunts and sparring, something in him tightened.
Her hair was tied up, strands clinging to her temple with sweat. She moved like she belonged there. Like she'd never left. Like she didn't need permission.
Leif moved closer, correcting her posture, his hand brushing her lower back as he leaned in. Arielle didn't flinch.
She smiled.
Kael's fists clenched at his sides.
His wolf surged, furious.
Mine.
He inhaled sharply, willing the shift down.
No. She wasn't his. Not anymore.
But as he watched Leif touch her again — slower this time, more comfortable — something snapped inside Kael.
His claws extended.
His eyes burned gold.
It took every ounce of willpower not to storm onto that field and drag Leif back by the throat.
What is wrong with me?
He stepped back into the shadows just as a pair of warriors passed by, nodding their greetings. He forced a neutral expression, pretending he hadn't just been consumed by a jealousy he had no right to feel.
Later that morning, Kael stood near the council hall, his face composed again.
But the ache lingered.
An elder, Councilor Brynn, approached, her silver-streaked hair braided tight. "Alpha," she said, her tone clipped. "There's unrest among the lower ranks."
Kael raised a brow. "Unrest?"
Brynn hesitated. "It's Arielle. Her return is... stirring things. The young ones are distracted. Some are calling her a symbol of rebellion. Others whisper she's cursed."
Kael's jaw ticked. "She has every right to be here."
"Does she?" Brynn's eyes narrowed. "You rejected her, Alpha. Publicly. Her presence now, this... strength she shows — it makes others question your judgment."
He didn't respond.
Brynn's voice softened. "She's not the girl we thought we erased. And people are watching. Closely."
She walked away, leaving Kael staring after her, jaw tight, breath unsteady.
They're watching her… but they're also watching me.
He hated how that thought unsettled him.
Because for the first time in years, Alpha Kael Nightshade felt his grip slipping.
Not over the pack.
But over himself.
[To be continued…]