Chapter 29
KAEL’S POV
The room they’d given me for the night was modest, nothing close to what a Lycan King like me was used to. No sumptuous pelts, no expansive panoramas of my own lands—just a basic bed, a solid table, a wardrobe, a few trinkets, and walls that closed in a bit too snugly.
But it sufficed. Alpha Kane had hesitated initially about letting me stay, but after a pause, he’d relented and even suggested extending it a few days if necessary. Hopefully, locating Elara wouldn’t drag that out.
My guards had turned in for the evening, all looking drained and worn. I couldn’t fault them—the nonstop three-day trek had been punishing. They deserved the downtime more than I did.
I sat on the bed, fingers threading through my hair, fatigue weighing but sleep eluding me. The Moon White Pack’s stillness contrasted sharply with the perpetual buzz of the Lycan realm.
After minutes of internal debate on resting or not, I rose and exited the room.
A stroll.
That’s what I needed.
To loosen up and reflect. I descended the stairs, heading for the palace entrance; this pack was unnervingly quiet—no sentries in view, but my instincts prickled. They were likely hidden away, observing me right now. As I neared the doors, one of Alpha Kane’s men appeared, blocking my path. He was swift and seamless—I hadn’t spotted him until he stood in my way.
“What?” I asked, my tone low but steady.
“Sorry, Lycan, but Alpha Kane prohibits anyone from leaving the palace after dark. It’s regulation.”
Kane was stricter than I’d anticipated. Tighter than expected.
“Always the rule, or new since I arrived?” The words spilled before I could rein them in—I could feel Kane’s caution.
He wavered, his eyes shifting.
“Figured,” a breath escaped me. “I get it… But I’m just after some air. Stressed.”
He eyed me in silence for a stretch, then mutely stepped aside and nodded. Abruptly, the doors swung open, moonlight pouring in, illuminating guards on either side. Damn—I hadn’t even registered them.
Kane’s crew was lethal; despite the pack’s naive appearance, they exuded danger… if I overstepped, and hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.
Outside, the crisp chill hit like a revitalizing tonic. Glancing back, the doors had shut quietly; three guards lingered by the palace—one patrolling, the others stationary.
Safeguarding something? Or was the Moon White Pack always this vigilant?
I wandered to the garden around the bend; it was compact but lovely. As I paused, admiring the blooms, a shadow caught my eye under a huge oak.
“Who’s there?” I called, my words slicing the calm. The form stirred—oh, it was that elder from before. Elder Theo, I think?
“Elder Theo?” I asked as the figure approached.
“Yes,” he confirmed, now mere feet away. His blonde hair was bundled in a bun, glasses a bit crooked. “What has you out this late, Lycan?”
“I could flip that on you,” I countered, closing the gap with purposeful strides. My query held a subtle arch of my brow, a teasing jab, a mild probe of his limits.
“Well,” he exhaled, a misty wisp in the cold. “The evening breeze revives.”
“Mm,” I nodded, taking stock. “It does.”
He went quiet, his stare lifting to the heavens, not exactly on the moon but past, into the starry whirl.
“That fond of the stars?” I asked lightly, shattering the hush. An effort to loosen the vibe without prying too hard.
“I like the thought of lost loved ones woven into the sky,” he said softly. Then he faced me with a smile, tender but shadowed with melancholy. For a second, it felt like his perpetual grin veiled a deep sorrow, though we’d barely met a day—something about him unsettled… not sinister, just poignant.
My jaw locked; I shrugged it off, stifling any empathy. I couldn’t risk vulnerability, not with anyone, especially in alien turf.
“That’s…” I cleared my throat. “Just tall tales,” I snapped.
Weakness breeds sentiment. My father’s echo boomed in my skull.
“Perhaps,” he sighed. “But rather than fret over a loved one’s possible fate, why not embrace a myth?”
I huffed. “For a wolf, that’s kid stuff, dreamed up by pups.” My words slashed sharp. Yet in hurting him, his pierced me. Elara lived—that I knew. But her unknown spot tormented me round the clock. Guilt stalked every hour, even dreams.
“Well,” he said, eyes reclaiming the sky. “It is what it is.”
Quiet fell heavier. Weary of standing, I sank to the grass. The hush dragged till he shattered it.
“Lycan,” he started, facing me gravely. “Why do you really seek the healer?”