Kael Thorne | Exiled Alpha, Burdened
I smelled the flare before I saw it.
Winter in the Northern Wastes wasn't kind to the senses. Snow drifted in thick waves. The air tasted like iron and old woodsmoke. And yet something hotter than fire had cut through it — the faint burn of raw magic.
My pack froze behind me. We'd been roaming this frozen land for weeks, hunting for signs. Last night, I swore the pack hedged closer, shifting uneasily as the skies flared deep red for a heartbeat before swallowing themselves again.
Snow crunching beneath boots. Armor that rang like hollow bells in the wind. My hand rested on the hilt of my sword. But there was no steel for this hunt.
Just instincts.
"Up ahead," I murmured, low enough for only my second to hear.
Lyric nodded, her ears flicking — wolf ears, pressed flat against her skull. She and Tamsen were clamped to either side, strung close. We'd formed a circle. The flares came again.
A pale glow, brighter this time. Shivering like candles across the snow.
My pulse tightened.
This was it.
The pack spread quietly — wolf form, human form. They shifted at the edges, tense as ropes pulled taut.
I stayed human. Didn't trust the shift just yet. Not outside the moonlight.
The flares came again, each one a heartbeat, a flare in the sky.
The ground trembled.
Beneath my feet, ice cracked.
I should have felt proud. After all, my pack had survived exile. We'd stalked bandits, wayward fey — even the occasional vengeful vampire. But this…
This wasn't normal.
Not mortal.
Not shifter.
I swallowed the tremor at the back of my throat.
Tamsen padded up to me — light on her feet despite hefting a greataxe. "We're close."
"I can smell it." Despite the cold, sweat stung my palms. "Cursed magic."
Lyric appeared at my other side, cloak pulled over her head. She glanced up at the sky. "Red is rarely good."
"We follow it." I dared a glance at the horizon. A bright glow, impossibly distant but certain. Something called beyond sight.
I caught myself thinking of her.
But I couldn't.
Not yet.
The pack tightened their circle again. Lyric led us down a slope. The snow dripped with magic. I knew it in my bones, soaked in the marrow.
The flare burst again — I blinked against brightness. Warmth hit me like a slap. The red sky above Moonkeep.
She's awake.
She's—born.
My heart fractured.
I pulled my cloak tighter. The sword at my hip weighed heavy. Legacy and prophecy dripped from its blade. The mark of the Thorne bloodline, tied to that night. To her mother. To us all.
My throat went dry. I closed my eyes.
"Kael," Tamsen murmured. "You okay?"
I swallowed. "It's her."
Lyric stepped closer. "Heir of the prophecy."
I nodded. Pack eyes pressed on me, waiting.
I exhaled. One breath to steady the rest. "Let's move."
We pressed onward.
The flare became a tower now, glowing in the distance. Its light carved paths through the snow — a beacon of power in the wastes.
Each step forward echoed in my bones — hunger, hope, fear.
All spiraling.
What if she's what we need? What if she's a weapon? Or a curse?
Lyric muttered under her breath, "Let's just find her."
She never sounded sure.
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Moments later…
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We crested a ridge.
Below lay Moonkeep Estate — more ruin than fortress now, crumbling towers half-collapse, walls fractured. Snowed-over statues with wolves and ravens entwined.
The flare towered over it, pulsing red.
I took a ragged breath.
"This is it," I said.
My pack closed in behind. Wolves and men, strangers and brothers. Exile and fury.
Tamsen sighed. "It's worse than we thought."
Lyric's voice was steady. "But it's her."
My heart slammed.
It's always been her.
I stepped forward. Each foot left a dent in the fresh snow.
Kael Thorne was home again.
No matter the cost.