Visceral
Narelle felt uneasy for losing her composure after what she saw in Kael’s room, but in the days that followed, she pretended everything was normal—there was na event coming.
The mansion’s façade gleamed under the golden light of sunset as the guests began to arrive.
Black cars, suited wolves, females glowing in bold-cut dresses and expensive perfume. It was a night of celebration. The company had just secured another expansion — a new contract with the European council. Kael had promised a discreet, elegant event to solidify his image as na unquestionable leader. And for that, he needed Narelle.
She descended the stairs with the rehearsed calm of a seasoned actress. The burgundy dress clung to her body like a second skin. The high slit revealed a thigh that had led many to ruin, but her eyes were cold. Calculating. Every step, a silent battle against what she felt.
Kael waited at the bottom of the stairs, immaculate in his dark suit. He offered his arm.
“Ready to dazzle the world, wife?”
She smiled with her lips. Not her eyes.
“Always.”
They walked together to the main hall. The marble floor reflected the lights and the stares that followed them. Kael greeted allies with charm and firmness. Called Narelle “my woman” with ease. Touched her back lightly. Whispered jokes into her ear with precise timing. And she played along.
The perfect couple. The Beta pair of the clan. The new era on display.
But those who truly knew Narelle—knew. Her brilliance had something hollow. A distorted reflection of the power that once lit up council rooms with ruthless speeches. Now, she was part of the showcase. A dangerous ornament. A weapon kept under control.
Rhaek watched from a discreet corner.
Seated on a dark velvet armchair, a glass of whiskey in hand, his eyes followed every gesture of the couple with analytical precision. His smile was cordial. But his thoughts, corrosive.
He knew Kael. He knew the darkness behind the polish. He saw through Narelle’s calculated restraint. Something in that scene unsettled him. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t alliance. It was strategy. Coldness. A game of war.
Rhaek sipped the amber liquid slowly, keeping his focus on the political dance unfolding before him.
Later, after the toasts and the first dances, Kael took Narelle by the waist with a practiced ease, leading her to the center of the ballroom where the pairs aligned in aristocratic rhythm.
“You look stunning,” he said, devoid of emotion.
“And you, impeccable,” she replied in the same tone.
“Keep smiling. Rhaek’s watching us.”
She twirled lightly. “He always watches. He’s waiting for the right moment to strike.”
Kael smiled, now with his eyes. “He can wait. You’re mine. The clan knows. The Council knows. Even your body knows.”
“My body belongs to no one.”
“Oh, Narelle…” he murmured, pulling her closer during the turn. “Your body called for me last night. When you moaned in the garden, touching yourself because of me. I saw the dew on the leaves. Smelled your scent. You feed on the poison, even when you pretend to fight it.”
She clenched her jaw. But said nothing.
She couldn’t.
At that moment, applause marked the end of the music. And Kael, flawless, bowed slightly. The crowd gradually dispersed. But the tension between them remained—dense, invisible, like vapor.
\\\[...\]
After the party, Kael maintained his public posture until the last guest left the estate.
Only then did he cross the hall and lock the front door.
Narelle had already gone upstairs, but he followed without haste. He entered her room like someone entering a compartment of his own mind.
She sat in front of the mirror, calmly removing her earrings. The dress still clung to her body, her gaze fixed on her reflection.
“You looked happy tonight,” she said.
“I played my role,” he answered.
“And your role here? Is it to control me until I no longer know where my will begins?”
Kael stopped behind her. His hands rested on her shoulders—firm, warm.
“I don’t want to destroy you, Narelle. I want to redirect you. You’re a storm. But even a storm needs to know where to devastate.”
She stood, brushing his hands off.
“I’m no landscape to be shaped.”
“No. You’re a battlefield.”
Their eyes met in the mirror. A silent duel.
“How long will you keep this theater going, Kael? How long until you forget there’s a child sleeping in this house?”
“I never forget. It’s because of him that I control you. That I control myself. That I pretend everything is as it should be.”
She stepped back. “You hide behind the boy.”
“And you hide behind pride.”
They stood in silence for far too long.
Then he stepped closer. Pressed his mouth to her ear.
“You still get aroused when I touch others. Still tremble when you see me in skin. And you still want me, even when you hate me.”
Narelle narrowed her eyes. “That’s not love, Kael.”
“Of course not. It’s dominance. And you understand that better than any she-wolf.”
She didn’t answer. Just turned and left the room.
That same night, Rhaek walked the trails surrounding the mansion in silence.
The sensors didn’t detect him. He had learned how to bypass them years ago, when the estate still belonged to na extinct branch of the clan. Now, he watched from outside.
And he saw everything.
The windows revealed shadows.
The corridors, absences.
Kael’s image, so perfect in public, had invisible cracks. And Narelle... that wasn’t the she-wolf he once knew. But she wasn’t defeated, either.
She was plotting something. Rhaek could feel it. And he was willing to wait. For the precise moment to strike.
Not for love. Not for power.
But for revenge.
\\\[...\]
Days later, Kael began to further restrict Narelle’s access to the company.
Reports arrived late. Her meetings were postponed. Her office — once beside his — was moved to another floor. Quieter. More distant. More irrelevant.
But she smiled. At everyone. She was polite. Impeccable.
And, secretly, she strengthened forgotten bonds.
In the library, where the boy now studied a few hours each day, she whispered ancient war verses. Taught tactics hidden within fables. Watched how he reacted to pressure, to logic, to conflict.
She was preparing a successor.
And Kael, though he still commanded the present, had begun to lose the future.
Now, war was made of silen
ce. Of glances. Of waiting.
But Narelle knew.
Every fortress crumbles first from within.
And Kael was beginning to fracture.