Estelle D'Mirra
The carriage slows to a stop before the pack house — tall stone walls, flags fluttering in the late morning breeze, and that faint hum of activity that never seems to rest here.
Kaelen steps out first and turns to offer me his hand. I take it, trying not to think about how steady his grip feels. Last night, things between us had felt… normal again. And I want to keep it that way.
"Stay close," he murmurs as we enter the main hall. "The council's already gathered, but you don't have to stay the whole time if you get tired."
"I'll be fine," I say, falling into step beside him.
The air inside smells faintly of cedar and parchment. Warriors pass by, bowing as they greet their Alpha and Luna, and omegas bustle about with trays of food and stacks of documents.
My eyes stumble upon someone I like to see the least. Lira. Something about her— or the way she behaves around my husband specifically irks me to my core.
She's standing near the council doors, a small bundle of scrolls in her hands. The moment her eyes find Kaelen, her face lights up like a sunrise.
Here we go again.
"Alpha," she says, bowing quickly. "Welcome back."
Kaelen gives her a curt nod. "Thank you, Lira."
Her gaze lingers on his for a moment too long than it should, cheeks coloring. "We weren't sure if you'd make it in time. The council's been waiting."
"I wouldn't miss it," he replies simply.
When her eyes flick to me, her smile falters a little — polite, forced. "Luna Estelle."
"Lira," I greet, matching her tone despite wanting to roll my eyes so bad. "How's everything in the west wing?"
"Oh, smooth as always," she says lightly. "Though it's much easier when the Alpha's here."
I don't miss the way her fingers tighten around the scrolls, or the way her voice softens just on that word — Alpha.
Kaelen doesn't notice, or maybe he does and chooses not to. "Make sure the reports are ready. We'll start soon."
"Yes, Alpha," she says, dipping her head in a bow before twirling on her heels and walks away.
My stomach twists at the sweet scent trailing after her— not from jealousy, exactly, but from something uncomfortably close.
Kaelen turns toward me. "You should wait in my office. It'll be quieter there."
"I can stay for the meeting," I insist.
He looks amused. "You want to listen to a bunch of old wolves arguing about border patrol?"
"I want to be where you are," I say, half-smiling.
That earns me a quiet exhale — something close to a laugh and an affectionate pat on my head, my heart swells. "Suit yourself."
We enter the council chamber together. Kaelen takes his seat at the head of the long oak table, and Lira reappears to pour tea out of nowhere, bending a little too close as she sets his cup down. Her fingers almost brush his hand.
Kaelen doesn't react. But I do, my gaze burns through her.
From my chair beside him, I watch — the flush on her cheeks, the way she glances at him when she thinks no one's looking, the barely-there smile his calm presence seems to pull from her.
By the time the meeting begins, I've schooled my face into perfect neutrality. I sit still, nodding when addressed, pretending not to notice when she hovers too near or when her gaze keeps darting back to the man who doesn't even belong to her.
When it ends, Kaelen gathers a few parchments and turns to me. "We'll head home after this."
"Hmmh." I hum.
🍀
The ride back is slow and quiet. Outside, the sun's slipping low, spilling gold over the forest edge. Kaelen sits across from me, elbow propped against the window, gaze fixed somewhere outside. His shirt sleeves are rolled up, veins tracing his forearms, the faintest glint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.
He hasn't said a word since we left the pack house. Not one.
I stare out the opposite window, pretending I don't feel his eyes on me every now and then.
Finally, his voice breaks the silence. "You've been awfully quiet."
"I'm fine," I answer, keeping my tone even.
He hums — low and unconvinced. "You're fine," he repeats, as if tasting the word. "Is that what we're calling sulking now?"
My head snaps toward him. "I'm not sulking."
"No?" His lips twitch. "Because you've been glaring at the floorboards since we left."
I cross my arms. "Maybe I'm just thinking."
"About what?" he presses, knowing full well I won't say.
I turn my gaze back to the window. "Nothing that concerns you."
That earns me a soft chuckle, a tingle spreading across my chest at the sound of it. "You sure? Because I could've sworn I saw a certain omega steal your attention back there."
My pretend not knowing what he's talking about. "I wasn't paying her any attention."
"Mm," he says, leaning back. "Could've fooled me. I saw the way your eyes nearly burned a hole through her."
Heat crawls up my neck. "She was being inappropriate."
"How so?" His tone is lazy, teasing — the kind that grates and draws in all at once.
"The way she looked at you."
He raises a brow. "Looked at me?"
"You know exactly what I mean," I snap. "Don't pretend you didn't notice."
He lets out a short laugh — quiet but deep enough to fill the small space. "So you were watching."
"I was not—"
"Oh, you were," he cuts in, smirking now. "If looks could kill, that poor girl wouldn't have made it out of the hall."
I glare at him, pulse quickening. "You think this is funny?"
"Not funny," Kaelen says, eyes meeting mine — steady, knowing. "Just… unexpected. My wife jealous of an omega? I didn't think you noticed anyone when I was in the room."
The words throw me off balance. My throat works, but no sound comes out.
He grins faintly, satisfied. "Guess I was wrong."
The carriage bumps over a patch of uneven stone, making me jolt slightly. Kaelen doesn't look away, just tilts his head, studying me.
"Relax, Estelle," he murmurs. "You don't have to glare at every woman who breathes near me. I'm not that easily distracted."
I scoff softly. "You flatter yourself."
He smirks, leaning forward just a little, enough to make my breath catch in my throat. "Maybe. But you still don't like her near me, do you?"
I don't answer.
His voice drops lower, rougher. "Didn't think so."
The rest of the ride passes with us sharing the same breath as his lips find mine again and again, my hand tangled in the silk of hair at the back of his neck, until we cannot sense anything other than us.
And when the carriage finally stops before our home, my pulse hasn't calmed one bit.