By the time the gathering ended, the courtyard buzzed with a completely different kind of energy—one centered not on the Choosing Ceremony, but on the unexpected shift in a girl no one had ever bothered to look at before.
Omeira.
The omega who had always kept her head down…
was suddenly walking with quiet strength.
Dodging Lila's trap with unnatural reflexes.
Withstanding stares without flinching.
Meeting the Alpha's eyes without trembling.
The pack whispered about it long after the crowd began dispersing, their voices drifting through the air like little sparks.
"Did you see her move out of the way?"
"She looked so composed…"
"She didn't even argue with Lila."
"She almost seemed… confident."
Confidence in an omega?
In that omega?
It was shocking enough to become the topic of the day.
But none were as confused—or bothered—by it as Kael.
He stood near the training racks long after most wolves had left, arms crossed, eyes locked on the courtyard entrance where Omeira had disappeared minutes earlier.
Rowan approached beside him. "For someone you claimed not to care about," he said lightly, "you've been staring in that direction for ten minutes."
Kael didn't blink. "She's… acting strange."
Rowan's mouth twitched. "Most people call that 'growing up.'"
"That's not what this is," Kael snapped.
Rowan raised both brows. "Alright then. What do you think it is?"
Kael didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
But something inside him kept repeating the same thing:
She's not the same.
Her posture.
Her eyes.
The way she stepped out of Lila's trap effortlessly…
Something had changed in Omeira overnight. Something he couldn't identify, but couldn't ignore either.
And Kael hated not knowing.
---
Omeira walked along the forest edge toward the omega quarters, her steps steady. The breeze rustled through the tall pines, carrying the cool scent of earth and moonlight. It was peaceful—until footsteps approached rapidly from behind.
She didn't need to turn to know who it was.
Kael.
His presence carried a weight she could feel even without looking.
She stopped walking but didn't face him.
"Omeira."
His voice was deep, commanding, steady—yet it carried a hint of frustration.
Slowly, she turned to meet his gaze.
Kael studied her with sharp golden eyes, scanning her from head to toe as if trying to read something invisible in her stance.
"You're different today," he said.
Not a question.
A statement.
Omeira lifted her chin slightly. "Am I?"
"Yes."
He stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "You moved differently. Spoke differently. You avoided Lila's spill as if you expected it."
Omeira's heartbeat remained calm. "Maybe I got lucky."
Kael shook his head. "No. That wasn't luck."
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Kael stepped even closer, closing the distance to only a few feet. She could feel the warmth radiating from him—intense, overwhelming, unmistakably Alpha.
"Why did you skip the ceremony last night?" he asked.
There it was.
The real question.
Omeira kept her expression neutral. "I told you. I didn't feel like attending."
"You always attend," Kael pressed. "You avoid attention, but you show up for tradition. So why break it now?"
Because last night was the beginning of my death in the past.
Because I refuse to let destiny play out the same way again.
But Omeira simply said:
"Does it matter?"
Kael stiffened.
It was such a simple question.
Yet it stirred something sharp inside him, something he didn't want to acknowledge.
He frowned. "It matters when your behavior changes overnight."
"I didn't realize you monitored my behavior," Omeira replied softly.
Kael opened his mouth, closed it, then glared slightly—as if her calmness genuinely irritated him.
"I don't monitor you," he snapped. "I just notice when someone acts strangely within my pack."
Omeira tilted her head. "So if another omega stayed home, would you track them down to question them too?"
Kael hesitated.
And that hesitation answered everything.
Omeira smiled faintly—not mocking, just resigned. "I didn't think so."
She stepped past him.
But the moment she did, Kael moved. His hand caught her wrist—not harshly, but firmly enough to stop her.
Omeira froze. Slowly, she turned her head, meeting his golden eyes.
Kael swallowed. "You seem… distant today."
"Do I?"
"Yes."
"Perhaps," Omeira said quietly, "it's because I'm finally learning to protect my peace."
That struck him more deeply than he expected.
Kael released her wrist slowly, almost reluctantly. "You're not weak," he said suddenly.
Omeira blinked. "I never said I was."
Kael stared at her, confused, almost frustrated. She had always been quiet. Small. Soft. But now her presence was like moonlight—calm, steady, but impossible to ignore.
"Just…" He paused, eyes flicking briefly to the forest. "Be careful. You're attracting attention."
"From who?"
Kael didn't answer.
Omeira stepped back. "Goodnight, Alpha Kael."
She walked away without waiting for his response.
Kael watched her until she disappeared between the trees.
His wolf stirred restlessly inside him.
Something was wrong.
He could feel it in his bones, in his instincts, in the hollow pull inside his chest whenever she wasn't in sight.
Why does her distance bother me?
He didn't have an answer.
But he intended to find one.
---
Back in her room, Omeira leaned against the door and exhaled slowly.
Kael confronted her sooner than she expected.
He noticed more than she remembered.
Perhaps fate was shifting more quickly than she thought.
But it didn't matter.
She had her own path to carve.
And this time, nothing—not Kael's confusion, not Lila's envy, not the pack's whispers—would slow her down.
She was not the old Omeira.
And sooner or later, everyone would see that.