The order came down at dawn.
Elder Marlena, with the backing of the council, had decreed that the human omega would be moved to the outer cabins. For her own safety, of course. To protect the compound from rogue attention. To ensure pack security.
The official reason didn't matter. Everyone knew the truth.
Marlena was testing Kael.
Elara stood in the omega quarters, clutching her few belongings—the clothes she'd arrived in, the thin blanket that was technically pack property—while Marta watched with worried eyes.
"This is bad," Marta whispered. "The outer cabins are unprotected. If the rogues come—"
"Then I'll run." Elara's voice was steadier than she felt. "I'm good at running."
Marta's hand caught her wrist. "Listen to me, child. The outer cabins aren't just unprotected. They're forgotten. No patrols. No watch. Wolves only go there when they're being punished or hidden." Her eyes were urgent. "If someone wanted to make you disappear—"
"Then they'd have to explain it to the Alpha."
"Would they?" Marta's grip tightened. "Kael's power comes from the council. If they vote against him, if they challenge him—he could lose everything. And Marlena has been waiting decades for an excuse to take control."
Elara's blood chilled.
He could lose everything. For me.
The thought was terrifying.
But before she could respond, heavy footsteps announced the arrival of her escort.
Two warriors she didn't recognize filled the doorway—large, expressionless, radiating the kind of casual cruelty that came from years of following orders without question.
"Human. Come."
Elara went.
---
The outer cabins were exactly what Marta had described.
Forgotten.
Nestled at the far edge of the territory, nearly a mile from the main compound, they huddled against the tree line like abandoned afterthoughts. The cabin Elara was assigned to had gaps in the walls, a door that didn't quite close, and a woodstove with a broken chimney.
"This is a death sentence," she said quietly.
The warriors didn't respond. They simply turned and walked away, leaving her alone with the forest and the cold and the certain knowledge that no one would hear her scream.
Elara stood in the doorway of her new prison.
Breathed.
Thought of silver eyes and whispered promises.
I'll find you, Kael had said. I'll protect you. I'll choose you. Every time.
She had to believe that.
Because if she didn't, the despair would swallow her whole.
---
The first night was the longest.
Elara stuffed the cabin's gaps with moss and torn fabric from her blanket. She managed to start a small fire in the broken stove, though half the smoke poured into the room instead of the chimney. She ate the dried meat Marta had pressed into her hands before she left.
And she waited.
For rogues. For wolves. For death.
Instead, warmth bloomed in her chest.
Kael.
He was there. Not physically—she couldn't see him, couldn't hear him—but she felt him. A presence at the edge of her awareness. A promise that she wasn't alone.
I'm here, she thought toward the warmth. I'm still here.
The warmth pulsed.
I know. I'm coming.
Elara's eyes burned.
He's coming. He said he'd come.
She didn't know how. Didn't know when. Didn't know what he could possibly do against the council's orders.
But she believed him.
---
He came at midnight.
Elara was half-asleep by the struggling fire when the door creaked open. She lunged for the broken broom she'd positioned as a weapon—
"Shh. It's me."
Kael.
He filled the doorway, dark against the star-scattered sky, and crossed to her in three strides. Pulled her into his arms before she could speak.
"I'm sorry." His voice was rough against her hair. "I'm so sorry. I tried to stop them. I argued for hours. But Marlena had the votes, and if I'd pushed harder, if I'd shown how much you matter—"
"I know." Elara's hands fisted in his shirt. "I know why you couldn't."
He pulled back just enough to look at her. In the firelight, his silver eyes were almost feral—bright with worry, sharp with protective fury, soft with something she didn't dare name.
"You're cold." His hands ran down her arms. "This cabin is a death trap. The chimney doesn't work. The walls have gaps. You could—" He stopped. Swallowed. "You could die here."
"Then don't let me."
The words hung between them.
Kael's jaw tightened. "I won't. I'll come every night. Bring supplies. Food. Wood. Whatever you need."
"And the council? If they find out—"
"They won't." His eyes hardened. "I'll make sure of it."
He pulled away, just enough to reach into the pack he'd carried. Produced blankets—real blankets, thick and warm. Dried meat and bread. A small lantern with oil. A knife.
"This is for you." He pressed the knife into her hands. "If anyone comes—rogues, wolves, anyone—you use this. You don't hesitate. You don't try to reason. You survive."
Elara looked at the blade. It was beautiful—silver steel, leather-wrapped handle, perfectly balanced. A warrior's weapon.
"I don't know how to use this."
"I'll teach you." His eyes met hers. "Every night. Until you can defend yourself."
Every night.
The words were a promise. A lifeline.
"Why?" The question escaped before she could stop it. "Why are you doing this? I'm human. I'm nothing. I'm—"
"Stop." His voice was sharp. "Stop saying that. You're not nothing. You've never been nothing. Not to me."
"Then what am I?"
He stared at her. Firelight flickered across his face, highlighting the battle within—the confusion, the longing, the desperate need to understand something that made no sense.
"I don't know," he finally said. "But I know I can't breathe when you're not near. I know my chest aches when you're in danger. I know I'd burn the world down to keep you safe." He touched her face, feather-light. "Whatever that makes you—that's what you are."
Mate, her wolf whispered. Tell him. Tell him now.
But the seal held.
Not yet. Not worthy. Not yet.
Elara leaned into his touch. Just for a moment. Just to feel seen.
"Teach me," she whispered. "Teach me to survive."
Kael's eyes darkened.
"Tonight," he agreed. "We start tonight."
---
They moved outside—too dangerous to stay in the cabin, where any passing wolf might see the firelight and investigate. Kael led her to a small clearing hidden among the pines, moonlit and silent.
"First lesson." He drew his own knife—longer than hers, worn with use. "The most important rule of combat: don't be where the attack is."
He moved. Fast. Too fast for her eyes to follow.
Suddenly he was behind her, knife at her throat—gentle, barely touching, but the message was clear.
"See? You're dead, and you never even saw me coming."
Elara's heart hammered. "I can't move that fast. I'm human."
"You're not—" He stopped. Started again. "You're not as slow as you think. Fear slows people. Panic. Uncertainty. If you can stay calm, stay focused, you'll be faster than you believe."
He stepped back. Demonstrated a basic stance—weight balanced, knife held low, eyes tracking.
"Your goal isn't to win. Your goal is to survive long enough for help to arrive. Stalling. Running. Creating distance. Those are your weapons."
They practiced.
Kael attacked—slowly at first, then faster. Elara dodged. Failed. Got knocked down. Got back up. Her body ached. Her marks burned beneath her clothes. But something was happening—something she didn't understand.
Each time she moved, each time she focused, the world seemed to slow.
Not really. But enough. Enough to see Kael's attacks coming. Enough to move before he struck. Enough to survive.
"You're learning faster than you should." Kael's eyes were sharp. "Much faster. Humans don't pick up combat this quickly."
Elara said nothing. Couldn't explain.
The wolf, she thought. She's helping. Making me faster. Stronger.
The seal was weakening. And with every passing day, her true nature pushed closer to the surface.
"Again," she said.
Kael attacked.
She dodged.
---
They trained until nearly dawn.
By the end, Elara could consistently avoid Kael's slow-speed attacks. Could hold her knife in a basic guard position. Could—briefly, desperately—believe she might actually survive an encounter with a rogue.
"Enough." Kael stepped back, breathing hard. "You need rest. And I need to be back before the compound wakes."
Elara nodded. Tried not to show how much she didn't want him to leave.
Kael hesitated. Then, slowly, he reached out. Cupped her face in his hands.
"I'll come tomorrow night." His voice was low. Fierce. "I'll keep coming. Every night. Until you're safe. Until this is over. Until—"
He stopped. Swallowed.
"Until what?"
His silver eyes burned. "Until I understand what you are to me. What this is. Why I can't—" He broke off. Leaned closer.
For one heart-stopping moment, Elara thought he might kiss her.
Instead, he pressed his forehead to hers. Breathed her in—whatever faint scent the seal now allowed. Closed his eyes.
"You're not nothing," he whispered. "You'll never be nothing. Not to me."
Then he was gone.
Elara stood in the clearing, alone with the fading moon and the echo of his words.
You're not nothing.
You'll never be nothing.
Not to me.
She touched her chest. Felt the warmth of the bond pulsing beneath her skin.
He's getting closer, her wolf whispered. Soon.
Soon.
---
The days took on a rhythm.
Elara survived the cold. Survived the isolation. Survived the constant fear of rogues, of wolves, of Marlena's inevitable next move.
And every night, Kael came.
They trained in the hidden clearing. He taught her to fight, to run, to survive. He brought food and blankets and firewood. He sat with her by the struggling stove afterward, close enough to touch but never quite touching.
They talked.
About his mother—the Luna who'd died protecting him. About the weight of the Alpha title, assumed too young. About the dreams that plagued him, the same dreams she had. Silver wolves and caves and desperate reaching.
About her childhood in the orphanage. The loneliness. The dreams of wolves she'd never understood. The marks that had appeared after she arrived.
"It means something," Kael said one night, tracing the air above her covered marks. "All of it means something. We just haven't figured out what."
Soon, Elara thought. Soon you'll know everything.
But the seal held firm.
Not yet. Not worthy. Not yet.
---
On the fifth night, everything changed.
Kael arrived later than usual, his expression dark. "Marlena's getting suspicious. She's watching me more closely. I can't stay as long tonight."
Elara's heart clenched. "Then don't stay. Go before—"
"No." His voice was firm. "I promised I'd come. I promised I'd teach you. I'm not breaking either promise."
They trained anyway. Shorter than usual, but intense. Kael pushed her harder, faster, as if trying to cram weeks of lessons into minutes.
And at the end, when they stood in the clearing catching their breath, something shifted in his eyes.
"Elara." His voice was strange. "I need to tell you something."
"What?"
He stepped closer. Close enough to touch. Close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, see the conflict in his silver eyes.
"I've been fighting something since the moment I met you." His voice was low. Rough. "Something I don't understand. Something that terrifies me. And tonight—" He stopped. Swallowed. "Tonight I can't fight it anymore."
The bond, she thought wildly. He's feeling the bond.
"Kael—"
"I don't know what you are." He reached up, touched her face. "I don't know why I feel this way. I don't know anything except—" His thumb traced her cheekbone. "Except that when I'm not with you, I'm not alive. Not really. Just... waiting. Until I can see you again."
Elara's eyes burned.
Tell him, her wolf begged. Tell him now.
But the seal—cruel, protective, relentless—held firm.
"I feel it too," she whispered instead. "Every moment. Every night. The waiting. The wanting. The—" She touched her chest. "The burning."
Kael's eyes flared.
"Then tell me what this is." His voice cracked. "Tell me what you are. Tell me why my wolf screams your name in my dreams. Tell me—"
He stopped.
Because Elara, unable to speak the truth, did the only thing she could.
She rose on her toes.
And kissed him.
---
The world stopped.
Kael's lips were warm. Firm. Shocked still for one heartbeat—two—and then he was kissing her back, fierce and desperate and hungry. His hands fisted in her hair, pulled her closer, claimed her mouth like she was air and he was drowning.
Elara clung to him. The marks on her chest blazed. The bond between them sang.
This, her wolf whispered. This is what we've waited for.
When they finally broke apart, both gasping, Kael's silver eyes were wild.
"What," he breathed, "was that?"
The bond. The mate bond. I'm yours and you're mine and you rejected me and I shouldn't want you this much but I do, I do, I do—
But she couldn't say any of that.
So she said the only thing she could.
"That." Her voice shook. "That's what this is. Whatever this is between us. That's it."
Kael stared at her. His chest heaved. His hands still gripped her like he'd never let go.
"Then whatever it is," he said roughly, "I want more. I want all of it. I want—"
A howl split the night.
Distant. Urgent. Warning.
Kael went rigid. "Border. Rogues."
He looked at her—agonized, torn—and for one terrible moment, Elara thought he'd stay.
"I have to go." The words seemed to cost him. "If I don't—"
"Go." She stepped back. "I'll be here. I'll be fine."
His jaw tightened. "You'll be fine because I'll be back. As soon as I can. I'll—"
"Kael. Go."
He went.
One moment he was there, silver eyes burning into hers. The next, he was gone—shifting mid-stride into that massive black wolf with the silver paw, disappearing into the night.
Elara stood alone in the clearing.
Touched her lips where his had been.
Felt the bond blazing like a second sun in her chest.
He kissed me, she thought. He chose me.
He's getting closer.
Please let it be enough.
---
End of Chapter 9🐺