Chapter 4

Kael

The fire in the hearth crackles, but the cold won't leave my bones.

I down the last of the whiskey and slam the glass onto the table, letting the burn distract me from the ache in my chest. It doesn't work. It hasn’t worked all night.

I rejected her. Fuck… I did that. I had to. It was never my plan to take a mate.

And yet… I still feel her.

The bond should have broken, faded by now—should’ve dissolved like smoke once severed. But instead, it coils inside me, a harsh throb behind my ribs, pulling me toward something I told myself I didn’t want.

She’s still in my blood. In my heart and deep within my soul. Like she was always there, and I hadn’t discovered it yet.

And my wolf is losing his mind.

He paces beneath my skin like a caged animal. Growling. Snarling. Howling every time I so much as sit still.

“Go to her,” he snaps.

“No,” I growl back. Out loud this time.

A door opens behind me.

“You talking to yourself now, Your Majesty?”

I don’t have to turn to know it’s Dax. His voice carries too much judgment to be anyone else.

“Leave it alone,” I mutter, pouring another glass.

“Can’t.” He walks in, boots heavy on the stone floor. “Not when I’ve watched you drink half your weight since we got back. Not when I can smell the bond hasn’t broken.”

I don’t respond. I can’t. Because he’s right.

He crosses the room and leans against the edge of the table, arms folded.

“She wasn’t just some girl, Kael.”

“She was an omega,” I bite out. “A weak one. I did what I had to do.”

He laughs—a sharp, bitter sound. “No. You did what you always do when something scares you. You ran.”

I shoot him a glare, but he doesn’t back down. Dax never does.

“You saw her,” he continues. “You felt her. She wasn’t normal. And you know it.”

“She’s still an omega. Weak blood. No rank. No name.”

“Power doesn’t come from a title,” he snaps. “You could feel it in her. The way the bond hit—it wasn’t just heat or instinct. It was something else. Bigger.”

“Or maybe I imagined it,” I mutter, finishing my drink.

“No, you didn’t,” he says, voice dropping. “And neither did I.”

That makes me pause. I glance up.

He nods. “I felt it, too. When she stepped into the circle… it was like the whole damn forest stopped breathing. My wolf went dead silent.”

Something sharp slices through my chest—an emotion I can’t name.

Regret?

No. I don’t regret protecting myself. Protecting my kingdom.

But I do regret… how her eyes looked before she ran.

I shift in my seat. “It’s over. She’s gone.”

“She may have been presented as weak, but the Moon Goddess chooses those who are our equals, our perfect half,” Dax says quietly. “You are one of the strongest wolves I know, if not the strongest. Why would you ever think your mate would be less than you?”

I stiffen, but I don’t interrupt.

He keeps going. “I’ve seen wolves destroyed not because their mates were weak—but because they never learned how to protect something precious. Or worse, they never appreciated what they had until it was too late.”

I grit my teeth. “Or they died protecting someone who couldn’t defend themselves.”

Dax's expression hardens. “Maybe that says more about the male than the female he was mated to.” He steps closer. “And what better way to die, Kael, than protecting your mate? The most honourable death I can imagine is for love. For a bond like that.”

He pauses, something raw in his voice. “I’m from a line of warriors who protect royals. It is who we are; it’s in our blood and our souls. Men who have spent their entire lives serving, fighting, sacrificing. Most of us never get mates. We’re not meant to. Our path is duty. The Goddess chose us as protectors of the royal lines. That is our destiny. Some have been lucky to choose a mate. And that is the only reason why our line has continued, through those unions. But to be given the gift of a fated mate…”

He looks away, just for a moment. “If I were ever blessed with a mate, I would never reject her. Not for power. Not for fear. I wouldn’t waste something the Moon Goddess gave me.”

“Dax…” I begin, but he shakes his head.

“You made a mistake, Kael. And you know it.”

He turns and walks out without another word.

I sit there for a long time in silence, the flames casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. I don’t pour another drink. I don’t move.

I just sit.

And feel her.

—

I must’ve passed out in the chair because the next thing I know, I’m dreaming.

Only it doesn’t feel like a dream.

It feels like her.

Aria stands before me, barefoot in a field of silver grass. The moon glows behind her like a halo, and her eyes lock onto mine—not with fear, not with sadness.

With strength.

She walks toward me, slow, steady, graceful.

She’s not the trembling girl in that threadbare dress anymore.

She’s radiant. Confident. Her skin shimmers with a faint glow, and a crown of something ancient and thorned rests in her hair.

“Kael,” she says, voice soft but unshakable.

I take a step forward without meaning to.

“I dreamed of this,” I whisper.

She reaches for me—and when our hands touch, the bond explodes back to life.

Fire in my veins. Heat in my chest. My wolf howling in relief.

She leans in close, her breath brushing my lips.

“I would’ve loved you,” she whispers. “With everything I have… I would’ve loved you.”

Then the scene shatters.

Flashes of blood. Screaming. Her body twisting. Her silver eyes are wide with terror.

She runs.

And I can’t reach her.

Chains wrap around her wrists, dragging her backward into the dark. I hear my own voice screaming—but it’s too late.

She disappears into the shadows.

“ARIA!”

—

I wake up gasping, soaked in sweat.

The fire has gone out.

The glass I left on the table lies shattered on the floor.

My heart pounds like a war drum in my chest. My wolf is still howling, frantic now. Not angry—but afraid.

I press the heel of my hand to my forehead, trying to steady my breath.

It was just a dream.

But it didn’t feel like one.

It felt like a warning.