The pack felt it before anyone said a word.
Something had changed.
Aiden noticed it the moment he stepped outside Theron's den.
Conversations faltered. Eyes followed him. Wolves that once nodded politely now hesitated — unsure whether to lower their gaze or study him more closely. The air felt tighter, charged with unspoken hierarchy and instinct.
Aiden's shoulders drew in.
"Why are they staring?" he muttered.
Theron, walking beside him, answered calmly, "Because they finally understand what you are."
Aiden frowned. "An omega?"
Theron stopped.
He turned fully, placing a firm hand on Aiden's shoulder. Not possessive — grounding.
"My omega," he corrected quietly.
The word rippled outward like a dropped stone in water.
Several wolves nearby stiffened immediately. One bowed his head without realizing he was doing it.
Aiden swallowed.
That didn't make him feel safe.
It made him feel… exposed.
As they crossed the training grounds, the tension thickened. Alphas lingered longer than necessary, postures subtly challenging. No one stepped in their path — not directly — but the message was clear.
They were curious.
And some were not pleased.
Then one of them spoke.
"Well," a deep voice drawled, "never thought I'd see the Alpha King walking his omega on a leash."
The ground went silent.
Theron didn't move.
Aiden did.
He spun so fast his balance barely caught up with his anger. "Say that again."
The alpha — larger than Aiden, scarred, smelling of old dominance — smirked. "Easy, pup. Didn't mean to make you bite."
Aiden's wolf surged forward with a growl sharp enough to cut.
Theron's hand closed around Aiden's wrist instantly.
"Enough," Theron said softly.
But Aiden was already trembling. Not with fear — with fury.
"I'm not weak," Aiden snapped. "And I'm not property."
The alpha snorted. "All omegas are—"
He never finished the sentence.
Theron stepped forward.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't bare his teeth.
The pressure alone dropped the alpha to one knee.
The earth itself seemed to lean toward Theron, moonlight flickering faintly across his eyes despite the sun overhead.
"You will address him with respect," Theron said calmly."You will never speak of him as lesser.""And you will remember —" his gaze turned razor-sharp, "— that challenging my omega is challenging me."
The alpha's breath came fast. His head bowed.
"I—understand," he choked.
Theron turned away like it was already settled.
Only then did the air begin to move again.
Aiden stood frozen, heart pounding.
"…I almost fought him," he said quietly.
Theron looked back, a hint of pride in his eyes. "I know."
"That was stupid," Aiden muttered.
"It was instinct," Theron corrected. "And courage."
Aiden shook his head. "I don't want to be some fragile thing everyone tiptoes around."
Theron stopped again.
"You aren't fragile," he said firmly. "But you are important. And the pack will learn the difference."
Aiden hesitated. "…What if they don't?"
Theron's voice dropped — not threatening, simply certain.
"Then I will remind them."
Aiden exhaled slowly.
For the first time, he understood.
Being the Alpha King's omega didn't mean being protected because he was weak.
It meant being protected because he was powerful enough to matter.
And somewhere in the pack, wolves were beginning to realize—
The hunt was not over.
And neither was Evelyn.
They had barely reached the treeline before the pressure finally eased.
The forest welcomed them with familiar scents — damp earth, moss, pine, the quiet comfort of home. Aiden's steps slowed, shoulders loosening as the pack fell behind them, voices distant again.
Theron exhaled softly. "You realize," he said, "you looked like you were one breath away from ripping his throat out."
Aiden shot him a glare. "He deserved it."
Theron's lips twitched. "Angry wolf."
Aiden stopped walking.
"What did you just call me?" he demanded.
Theron turned fully, expression infuriatingly calm — and amused. "Ears flat. Eyes sharp. Barely resisting the urge to bite. Very angry."
Aiden crossed his arms. "You liked it."
Theron didn't deny it. "I admired it."
Aiden scoffed, cheeks heating despite himself. "Don't flatter yourself, moon-god. I wasn't protecting you."
Theron stepped closer, lowering his voice. "No. You were protecting yourself."
Aiden opened his mouth to argue—
Then paused.
Something dangerous and warm flickered between them.
"…Still," Aiden muttered, "you didn't have to crush him into the dirt."
Theron tilted his head slightly. "I absolutely did."
Aiden huffed a laugh despite himself. "You're impossible."
Theron smiled fully this time. "And you're still angry."
Aiden stared at him for a long second.
Then, without thinking — and before fear could stop him — he reached up.
Pressed a quick, sharp kiss to Theron's cheek.
It was over in a heartbeat.
Theron froze.
Aiden didn't wait to see his reaction.
"Oh, shut up," Aiden said breathlessly — and then his body shifted mid-step.
Bones reformed, fur spilling like dark smoke as his wolf burst free, paws striking the ground with joyful aggression. He barked once — sharp and triumphant — and bolted into the forest.
Branches whipped past as Aiden ran.
Ran because he could.
Ran because his chest felt too full.
Ran because he wanted Theron to chase him.
Behind him, Theron stood stunned — fingers still lifted where the warmth of Aiden's lips lingered.
Then he laughed.
Low. Warm. Dangerous.
"Run, little wolf," Theron murmured.
The forest stirred.
And somewhere deep in the trees, Aiden's howl echoed back — wild, teasing, alive.
Theron shifted.
And the Alpha King followed