The clearing emptied slowly.
Wolves dispersed in clusters, their whispers trailing behind them like smoke. Some shot curious glances toward Elara. Others deliberately looked away. A few—the ones with Marlena's cold eyes—stared with open hostility.
Kael's hand remained wrapped around hers.
His grip was warm. Steady. Grounding.
But Elara could feel the tremor in his fingers, the way he leaned slightly more weight on his uninjured leg, the blood still seeping from the wound on his thigh. He'd won. But the cost was visible.
"You need a healer," she said quietly.
"Thorne's waiting." His silver eyes didn't leave her face. "Walk with me."
It wasn't a question.
They walked.
Through the dispersing crowd, past warriors who nodded respectfully and elders who stared stone-faced, across the compound to the healing hut. Kael didn't release her hand once.
Thorne met them at the door, ancient face grim. "Inside. Both of you."
---
The healing hut felt different now—familiar, almost safe. Elara had spent enough hours here, learning from Thorne, hiding from the world. But watching Kael lower himself onto the worktable, watching Thorne cut away his blood-soaked leathers—that was something else entirely.
The wound on his thigh was ugly. Deep puncture marks from the champion's jaws, torn flesh, muscle exposed. Kael's face was pale beneath his tan, jaw tight with pain he refused to voice.
"This needs stitching." Thorne's voice was brisk. "And you've lost too much blood. You'll be weak for days."
"I don't have days." Kael's eyes found Elara. "Marlena won't wait. She'll regroup, find another angle—"
"Let her." Elara surprised herself by speaking. "You just fought for me in front of the entire pack. You won. Publicly. She can't move against either of us without looking like she's defying her Alpha."
Kael stared at her. "That's... surprisingly strategic."
"I've had time to think. Alone. In a cabin that's trying to kill me." She almost smiled. "It focuses the mind."
Thorne snorted. "She's right, for once. Marlena's power comes from perception—from appearing reasonable, from having the council's respect. If she moves too quickly against you now, she loses both." He threaded a needle. "You've bought yourself time. Use it wisely."
Kael winced as the needle pierced his flesh. "Time for what?"
For him to become worthy, Elara thought. For the bond to fully awaken. For the Blood Moon.
But she couldn't say that.
So she said: "Time to figure out what's really happening. With me. With us."
Kael's silver eyes held hers. "I intend to."
---
The stitching took an hour.
By the end, Kael's face was grey with pain and blood loss, but he hadn't made a sound. Thorne wrapped the wound with clean bandages, muttering instructions about rest and fluids and not fighting any more champions for at least a week.
Kael ignored most of it.
"I'm taking her back to the compound." His voice was firm. "The outer cabin isn't safe. Not after today."
Thorne paused. "The council—"
"Can object. I'll overrule them." He slid off the table, tested his weight on the injured leg, grimaced. "She's under my protection. My personal protection. That means she stays where I can protect her."
"And where would that be?" Thorne's ancient eyes were sharp. "You can't quarter her in the Alpha's residence. The scandal would—"
"Guest quarters. Near the great hall. Close enough to be watched, separate enough to be proper." Kael's jaw tightened. "It's the only option that keeps her alive."
Elara's heart stuttered. Guest quarters. Near the great hall. Close to him.
"You've thought about this," she said quietly.
"Since Marlena first suggested the outer cabins." He met her eyes. "I've thought about a lot of things."
Like what? she wanted to ask. Like us? Like the bond you can't explain? Like why you're willing to risk everything for a human girl?
But Thorne was there, and the moment wasn't right, and the seal still held.
"Come." Kael held out his hand. "Let's get you somewhere warm."
---
The guest quarters were small but clean.
A proper bed with real blankets. A hearth with wood already laid. A window that looked out over the compound—and, Elara noticed, directly toward the Alpha's residence.
She could see his door from here.
He could see hers.
He planned this.
Kael stood in the doorway, leaning heavily against the frame. His face was still too pale, his leg clearly paining him, but he made no move to leave.
"Will you be all right here?" he asked.
"I'll be fine." She looked around the small space. "This is... more than I expected."
"It's less than you deserve."
The words hung between them.
Elara turned to face him. In the firelight, his silver eyes seemed to glow—warm and fierce and full of questions he couldn't ask.
"Kael." She stepped closer. "You should rest. You lost blood. You need—"
"I need to understand." He caught her hand as she reached for him. "I need to know why I can't walk away. Why every moment away from you feels like drowning. Why—" He stopped. Swallowed. "Why, when I kissed you, it felt like coming home."
Because I'm your mate. Because we're bonded. Because the Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes.
But she couldn't say it.
So she did the only thing she could.
She rose on her toes and kissed him again.
---
This kiss was different.
Slower. Deeper. Less desperate and more deliberate. Kael's arms wrapped around her, pulling her close despite his injuries. His lips moved against hers like he was learning her, memorizing her, claiming her.
Elara's marks blazed beneath her clothes.
The bond between them sang.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Kael's forehead rested against hers.
"I don't know what this is," he whispered. "But I know I don't want to stop."
"Then don't." Her voice was barely audible. "Don't stop. Not yet."
He stayed.
---
They sat by the fire as night fell.
Kael on the floor—his leg wouldn't let him sit comfortably anywhere else—with Elara beside him, close enough to touch. They talked about nothing. About everything. About the childhoods they'd never really had, the loneliness they'd both known, the strange sense of completeness they felt in each other's presence.
"I used to dream of silver wolves," Elara said quietly. "Before I came here. Every night, the same dream—wolves running, a throne made of moonlight, a voice calling me daughter."
Kael's arm tightened around her. "I dreamed of you."
"When?"
"After the Moon Ceremony. Before I understood why." He stared into the fire. "You were in a cave. Chained. Silver light pouring off you. And I couldn't reach you. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't reach you."
The same dream. The same cave. The same chains.
The bond connecting us even then.
"I dreamed of you too," she whispered. "In chains. Waiting for me."
Kael turned to look at her. In the firelight, his silver eyes were ancient. Knowing.
"What are we?" he asked.
Mates, she thought. Fated. Chosen. Bound for eternity.
But the seal held.
"I don't know," she said. "But I'm tired of fighting it."
His hand came up to cup her face. "Then don't. Fight for it instead. Whatever it is. Whatever we are. Fight for it with me."
Tears burned her eyes. "Kael—"
"I rejected you once." His voice was rough. "I called you nothing in front of the entire pack. I can't take that back. I can't undo the pain I caused. But I can spend the rest of my life making up for it, if you'll let me."
The rest of his life.
He didn't know what he was offering. Didn't know that "the rest of his life" meant eternity, meant the bond, meant everything. But he offered it anyway.
Please, she begged the seal silently. Please let him be worthy. Please let this be enough.
The seal pulsed—warm, almost encouraging.
Not yet, it seemed to say. But close. So close.
"I'll fight for it," Elara whispered. "With you."
Kael kissed her again.
Soft. Sweet. Full of promise.
---
He left when the moon was high—had to, before anyone noticed him missing. But he made her promise to keep the door barred, to keep the knife close, to reach for him through the bond if anything felt wrong.
She promised.
And for the first time in weeks, she slept deeply. Peacefully. Wrapped in the warmth of knowing she wasn't alone.
---
Morning brought new challenges.
A knock at her door. Elara grabbed the knife, approached cautiously.
"Who is it?"
"Lyra."
The warrior who'd first brought her clothes. Who'd looked at her like a stray dog. Elara opened the door.
Lyra stood there, expression unreadable. Behind her, the compound stirred with morning activity.
"The Alpha sent me." Her voice was neutral. "I'm to escort you to the kitchens, ensure you're fed, and answer any questions you have about pack life." A pause. "And to make sure no one... bothers you."
Protection, Elara realized. He's giving me a guard.
"Thank you," she said.
Lyra's eyes flickered. "Don't thank me yet. The pack's not happy about you being here. Marlena's people are spreading rumors—that you're a witch, that you've bewitched the Alpha, that you're working with the rogues." She stepped closer. "I don't believe them. But I'm one of the few."
"Then why help me?"
Lyra was quiet for a moment. Then: "My brother was captured by rogues three years ago. The Alpha led the rescue mission himself. Brought him home alive." Her jaw tightened. "I owe Kael everything. If he wants you protected, I protect you. Simple."
Loyalty, Elara thought. Not to me. To him.
It was more than she'd had yesterday.
She followed Lyra to the kitchens.
---
The compound had changed.
Wolves still stared, still whispered, still judged—but now some nodded respectfully. Others actually moved aside to let her pass. Kael's public declaration had shifted something. She was no longer just a human omega. She was the Alpha's person. Whatever that meant.
Greta, the kitchen she-wolf, actually grunted something that might have been a greeting and pushed a bowl of hot porridge toward her. Marta, working nearby, shot her a quick smile.
Progress.
Elara ate slowly, watching the kitchen work around her. Lyra stood guard by the door, arms crossed, expression fierce. It felt almost... normal.
Then Dace appeared.
He slid onto the bench across from her, ignoring Lyra's warning growl. "Congratulations. You've survived Marlena. For now."
"What do you want, Dace?"
"Same thing I always want. Information." His hazel eyes glittered. "The Alpha fought a champion for you. Publicly declared you under his protection. Now you're in guest quarters with a personal guard." He leaned forward. "That's not normal. That's not possible. Unless—"
"Unless what?"
He studied her for a long moment. Then, quietly: "Unless you're not what you seem."
Elara's heart stopped.
Dace's eyes dropped to her sleeve—where, for just a moment, the silver marks had flickered visible.
"I thought so." His voice was barely a whisper. "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me." He stood. "But you should know—others are watching. Others who've noticed the same things I have. And not all of them are friendly."
He left.
Elara stared after him, heart pounding.
He knows. Not everything, but enough.
How long before others figure it out?
---
That night, Kael came again.
He moved more carefully now, favoring his injured leg, but his eyes were bright with something she hadn't seen before—hope, maybe. Or determination.
"I heard Dace spoke to you." His voice was tight. "What did he want?"
"To warn me. That others are watching." She touched his arm. "He knows something's different about me. He saw the marks."
Kael's jaw tightened. "I don't trust him."
"I don't either. But he hasn't told anyone. Yet."
"He's playing his own game. The entire Dace family does." Kael pulled her closer. "I'll have Cassian watch him. In the meantime—" He looked down at her. "How are you? Really?"
Scared. Confused. Hopeful. Desperate to tell you the truth.
"Better," she said. "Here. With you."
He kissed her forehead. "Then I'll keep coming. Every night. As long as it takes."
As long as it takes.
The Blood Moon is in nine days.
Please let that be enough.
---
End of Chapter 11🐺