Chapter 10 HIS WOLF
When Adam woke again, daylight was spilling through the cabin’s window; soft, muted, but still too bright. His throat was dry, his head heavy, and the space beside him on the bed was empty. For a second, panic flared.
Then he heard the rhythmic thud of an axe meeting wood.
Adam pushed himself up, the blanket slipping off his shoulder. His body still ached, but the fever was gone. He got up on his feet, wobbling a little, and followed the sound outside.
Kael was in the clearing behind the cabin, sweat slicking his skin. Each swing of the axe came down with precision—fluid, unrelenting, like even this simple task was a battle against something unseen. He looked alive and hollow at the same time.
When Kael noticed him, he dropped the axe and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “You’re up,” he said quietly. “I made food. You need to eat.”
Adam blinked at the steaming plate sitting on the porch table. “You… cooked?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, I can actually cook.” Kael muttered with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He gestured for Adam to sit and handed him the small tray of plates; eggs, toast, and a soup that smelled faintly of herbs.
Adam hesitated, but his stomach made the decision for him. He ate slowly, under Kael’s watchful gaze, aware of how close the man sat like he was afraid Adam would disappear again if he looked away.
After a while, Kael’s voice broke the silence. “Do you still doubt that I’m real?”
Adam looked up, chewing slower. “No,” he said finally, then added, “but I have… questions.”
Kael leaned back, arms folded. “Ask.”
Adam hesitated. “Can you show me? I mean—your wolf form. If it’s real. Because that night, when you—uh—kidnapped me, you turned into something big and terrifying. A monster? I just… want to know if that’s your wolf form. You know, the books say werewolves turn into actual wolves, not… whatever that was.”
Kael’s lips twitched at the word books. “You’ve been reading human written fiction,” he said, amusement flickering briefly. “But fine. If that’s what it takes.”
He rose, stepping back until there was enough space between them. Adam’s heart kicked against his ribs as Kael’s eyes shifted—silver bleeding into icy blue, his bones cracking and reshaping with fluid brutality.
In seconds, the man was gone.
Standing before Adam was a massive wolf—snow-white fur that shimmered faintly in the morning light, eyes like frozen lakes locked on him. Adam froze, air trapped in his lungs. The creature was easily twice his height, muscles rippling beneath its coat, yet its stance was calm… almost regal.
Kael’s wolf took a step forward, lowering his head slightly in silent greeting.
Adam instinctively took a step back, pulse racing; but guilt quickly followed. Kael hadn’t hurt him. Not once. And seeing the wolf now, something in his chest loosened.
He took a shaky breath and, against every rational instinct, reached out his hand.
His fingers brushed fur. Warm. Alive. Real.
And then—
A voice echoed inside his head, smooth and low, carrying a strength that made his skin prickle.
“Hi, mate. I’m Ryn… your Alpha.”
Adam gasped and stumbled back, eyes wide. He looked around, expecting Kael to be speaking, but the wolf hadn’t moved, just watched him patiently.
“You—” Adam stammered, eyes darting. “You talked. I heard you!”
The wolf’s tail flicked once, almost like amusement. Then Ryn bowed his great head and leaned into Adam’s hand again.
Shock melted into a strange calm. Adam’s palm rested fully against the wolf’s muzzle, and he felt a heartbeat beneath the fur… steady, powerful, syncing briefly with his own.
Minutes passed before the light around the wolf shimmered again. Bones shifted. The white fur receded.
And suddenly Kael was kneeling there—naked, breathless, in human form again.
Adam swore and spun around, throwing up a hand. “For the love of—! You could’ve warned me!”
Kael’s laugh was soft, rough around the edges. He wrapped a towel around his waist from where it hung near the porch rail. “You didn’t ask for a show, you asked for proof.”
When Adam risked a glance, Kael’s grin had softened into something gentler.
“Ryn?” Adam asked, his voice quieter now.
“My wolf,” Kael replied, nodding. “That was him.”
Adam exhaled slowly. “He looks… majestic.”
Kael chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’ll like that. He says you smell better when you’re not angry.”
That earned a weak laugh from Adam, and for a moment the air between them felt almost light. But Kael’s eyes lingered too long… searching, thoughtful.
“Adam,” he said after a pause. “Why does your family hurt you?”
The question hit like cold water. Adam’s smile faded. “They’re doing enough by putting a roof over my head.”
“That’s not enough,” Kael said softly. “You deserve more than pain disguised as shelter.”
Adam’s throat tightened. He looked away, muttering, “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I understand more than you think,” Kael said. “Why not just leave them? You’re not chained there.”
Adam gave a small, humorless laugh. “Leave? And go where? I can’t afford my own place. Can’t even keep a job with how things are.”
Kael stepped closer, his tone quiet but firm. “You have me.”
Adam looked up, startled. “You?”
“Yes,” Kael said simply. “You’ll never have to starve or flinch again. I’ll protect you. Always.”
Adam stared at him for a long, heavy moment. Kael meant it—he could see it in the way his shoulders stayed tense, the way his voice trembled just slightly on the word protect.
But all Adam could feel was the weight of his own fear pressing against his ribs.
“I can’t,” he said finally, voice breaking just a little. “I can’t trade one prison for another.”
Kael flinched as if Adam had hit him across the face.
For a long time, neither spoke. The only sound was the wind whispering through the trees, the faint creak of the porch boards beneath them.
Kael turned away first, jaw tight. “You’re not my prisoner, Adam. I just… don’t know how to be anything else aside from being your mate right now. That's how strong the bond is.”
Adam lowered his gaze, his fingers curling around the edge of the table. “Then maybe you should figure things out in your house before asking me to stay. I'm not one of your kind and people don't like that. I'm already an outcast where I live, I can't come to your world to be another level of outcast too.”
The silence stretched, thick and painful; but beneath it, something fragile lingered. Not hatred. Not even fear. Just the ache of two broken souls circling the same wound.
And somewhere deep inside, Ryn’s quiet voice echoed faintly in Kael’s mind—
‘He seems to be testing you. Don’t fail him again.’