Between Furs and Porcelain
The hall was empty. Only the sound of the wind slipping through the cracks of the tall windows filled the space. Luxor sat in the leather chair of the former council room—now used as a private deliberation chamber. His face rested against a clenched fist, eyes fixed on a point only he could see.
It wasn’t strategy that held him there. It was memory.
Kael.
The eyes that protected him during nightmare-filled nights. The voice that taught him to control instinct as a child. The first to call him “son” when he was still just a nameless bastard.
But also... the same Kael now rejected by all, as if he were ancient poison bottled in a new flask.
Luxor had listened to Narelle, Rhaek, even the elders. All unanimous: “Kael must not return. He’s a threat. A fox disguised as a wolf.”
And yet, a part of Luxor... hesitated. Something in his blood didn’t know how to sever that so easily.
It was in that inner silence that Tiza entered.
No knock. No announcement.
The mother of his children. His battle partner. The one who had always known how to read beyond flesh—and pride.
Luxor lifted his eyes. He was tired. And she, as beautiful as she was lethal, had a hardened look shaped by something still unspoken.
"You heard," he said bluntly.
"Yes."
"And you came to say you agree with Rhaek and Narelle?"
Tiza stopped beside the table. She didn’t sit. Nor did she answer right away. Her silence was like a polished blade: beautiful... but dangerous.
"I didn’t come to give you advice, Luxor. I came to say I won’t be part of this."
Luxor frowned, surprised.
"This...?"
"This reunion. This attempt to reintegrate Kael among us. Yes, you’re Alpha. But you’re not an orphan."
"He was there in my early years. When no one else..."
"I know who was there," Tiza's voice cut firm, though low. "And I know what he did... before becoming your ‘adoptive father.’"
Luxor straightened in his chair, alert.
"What do you mean by that?"
Tiza took a deep breath. The past bit at her throat. But she was no longer the girl who used to cry in secret. She was a wolf. And had cubs to protect.
"When Kael arrived at the House of Vorns, I was a recently retrieved omega. I had no voice. No protection. He tried to take me by force the first week."
Luxor’s eyes widened, paralyzed. Tiza continued with raw firmness.
"I was thirteen. It didn’t happen... because an elder—old Alira—heard my screams and came into the room. She expelled him and made a direct report to Rhaek, who then forbade mating with omegas under sixteen. That rule was born there. Because of me."
Silence fell like death.
Luxor felt the air vanish for a moment. The Kael he knew—or thought he knew—didn’t fit that story. But the weight on Tiza’s face was undeniable. It was truth that had bled for years without a name.
"Why didn’t you ever tell me...?" he murmured.
"Because you were a boy who called him father. And of all my wounds, that one... I learned to bury. Until now."
Luxor stood up slowly. His heart thudded loudly in his ears.
"Tiza..."
"Don’t ask me to accept this reunion. Don’t ask me to pretend that wolf is a safe part of your story. I bled before you ever embraced him. And I won’t bow to the memory he sold you."
Luxor stepped closer, but Tiza stepped back.
"Even if you choose to keep him around... I won’t smile at him. And I won’t bring our children to spend time with someone who once tried to tear me apart."
There was too much firmness in that woman. But also too much pain for him to try silencing it with arguments.
"I didn’t know," was all he could say.
Tiza nodded. Her eyes softened for a moment. But her decision remained intact.
"Now you do. And what you do with that... will be your burden, not mine."
She turned, ready to leave, but before reaching the door, she added:
"Be careful with those who caress your memories. Not every touch is love. Sometimes... it’s just manipulation in velvet gloves."
And she left.
Leaving behind a scent that blended lotus flower and ancestral mourning.
\---
Luxor sat again. His chest heaved.
On one side, the boy who slept in Kael’s lap still cried out: “he loved you!”
On the other, the Alpha in formation began to see something far more complex—and dangerous.
Kael had returned with sweet words. But had left too many thorns along the path.
And now, Luxor understood that maybe... what Kael truly wanted wasn’t reconnection.
It was redemption without penitence.
And that, in a land of wolves, always costs blood.
\---
The invitation arrived in the morning, in a thick, dark envelope, with Luxor’s name handwritten in careful letters. No crest. No identification—except the scent.
Kael.
"A dinner between us. Just conversation. Nothing more. I trust you’ll come."
Luxor didn’t reply. But at night, he showed up.
The restaurant was upscale, at the top of a mirrored building that reflected the city lights as if everything there had been forged in liquid gold. There was ambient music, silent waiters, and a deliberate isolation between well-spaced tables.
Kael looked impeccable. Dark suit, sharp eyes, that smile that always seemed to know more than it should. He stood up when he saw him, arms open in a welcoming gesture.
"My boy... I knew you’d come."
Luxor shook his hand firmly, but without warmth.
"I came to understand."
Kael laughed heartily, gesturing to the chair across. A waiter brought wine before they even ordered.
"To understand? Or to confirm?"
"Both."
Kael watched him with interest.
"So direct... did you inherit that from old Rhaek?"
"Inheriting and learning are different things. With Rhaek, you learn even in silence."
Kael tilted his head slightly, recognizing the jab. He didn’t retaliate. He just raised his glass.
"To reunions."
Luxor raised his, but didn’t toast. He simply drank.
Dinner proceeded without visible tension. Fine dishes, expensive wines, talk about the market, and the allies Kael still had. Influential names, silent deals, smiles planted on important faces.
Luxor listened. But didn’t engage.
His gaze was analytical, watchful. He hadn’t forgotten what Narelle told him. Nor what Tiza revealed. And least of all, the nights Kael was subjected to rituals of pain and pleasure imposed by Cecília, that ancestral she-wolf Kael had let get close and never truly freed himself from.
He knew what manipulation looked like.
Then they arrived. Two women. Identical. Crimson hair down to their waists, feline amber eyes, dresses clinging to their bodies like sin stitched in silk.
They entered smiling, steps synchronized. One placed a hand on Kael’s shoulder, the other laid her eyes on Luxor like a predator choosing prey.
"Kael... darling... we didn’t expect to find you so well accompanied."
"And who’s the handsome young man?" the second added, eyeing Luxor like a gift waiting to be unwrapped.
Kael let out a low laugh.
"Him? Son of a great friend. He’s learning the value of good connections."
Luxor didn’t move a muscle. But inside, he understood everything.
The phrase was chosen with precision.
Kael didn’t introduce him as his son. Nor as someone important. Just a promise. A project.
As if he were still under construction. As if he belonged to someone—and that someone was him.
Kael invited the women to sit. Without asking Luxor. The redheads settled beside the two, knees crossing under the table in a rehearsed, almost theatrical manner.
Luxor leaned back in his chair. Looked at the glass. Didn’t smile.
"I thought this dinner was between the two of us," he said, flatly.
Kael made a sweeping gesture.
"We’re among friends. These two are older than they look... and far more experienced than you can imagine."
The women laughed. One slid her fingers down Luxor’s sleeve.
"And you... you’re so serious... you need to relax."
Luxor grabbed her wrist firmly—without violence, but with clarity. He removed her hand from his sleeve.
His touch was like stone. And his eyes, now colder than the night at the top of the building.
"Relaxing is a choice. And I never do that around wolves disguised in perfume."
The redheads glanced at each other, surprised. Kael raised an eyebrow but kept smiling.
Luxor then stood, adjusting his blazer. He looked directly at Kael.
"I need to go. This dinner no longer seems pleasant. You want to show power? Your contacts? Your influence? None of that impresses me. Especially with two whores."
"Luxor..." Kael began, but he cut him off:
"I only want one thing. The truth. And it’s never served on porcelain plates.
Good night."
And he left.
Kael remained seated, watching the door close. The redheads shifted, uncertain. But he simply sipped the wine.
"He’s stronger than I thought," he murmured.
The she-wolf to his left added:
"It’ll be hard to bend him. He’s confident and strong."
Ka
el smirked.
"I don’t need to bend Luxor. I just need to make him want something I have.
And then, he’ll eat willingly."