Chapter 3 The Alpha's Burden

The Alpha's quarters sat on the highest ridge overlooking the valley, a stone-and-cedar fortress that felt more like a watchtower than a home. From up there, the pack looked like a collection of ants-tiny, busy, and unknowingly dependent on the man who rarely slept.

Kael stood at the edge of the terrace, arms braced against the railing, watching the sun crawl its way across the morning sky. Fog still blanketed the trees below, curling like ghosts between branches. He hadn't been to bed. Sleep was a luxury he'd stopped chasing years ago.

Last night, when he'd walked away from Aria in the woods, something inside him had screamed.

The bond tethered them together, invisible but unbreakable, a thread woven by the Moon Goddess herself. The moment he'd met her eyes under the lantern-lit sky, he'd felt the snap, like a puzzle piece slamming into place. And yet, he'd turned away.

It should have been simple. It never was.

"Running again, are we?"

Kael turned slowly. His father, Alpha Thorne, stepped onto the terrace with two steaming mugs in hand. He looked every inch the wolf he was-graying at the temples, sharp eyes, and a voice like gravel dragged over stone.

Kael took the offered mug. "I don't run."

"Could've fooled me. Girl looks like you carved her heart out."

Kael didn't answer.

Thorne studied his son in silence for a moment. "You felt it. The bond."

"Yes."

"And?"

Kael exhaled slowly. "I rejected it."

Thorne raised an eyebrow. "Foolish. Or scared?"

Kael's jaw flexed. "I'm not scared."

"No?" His father tilted his head. "Then why are you up here alone when your mate is down there, probably wondering what she did wrong?"

Kael looked away. "She didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why push her away?"

"I have my reasons."

"You always do." Thorne sipped his tea. "You're just like your mother, you know. All fire and fear wrapped in armor."

Kael flinched.

His father rarely spoke of her.

Thorne sighed, leaning back against the stone wall. "You were ten when she left. Do you remember what she said to me the night she walked out?"

Kael didn't respond.

"She said, 'Thorne, I love you. But I love myself more.' Then she turned and never looked back."

Kael gripped the railing harder, the mug shaking in his hand.

"You think I didn't break?" Thorne continued. "You think I didn't hate her? But she was honest. She knew she couldn't be who I needed her to be. So she left before she destroyed everything."

Kael's voice came out tight. "What's your point?"

"My point is," Thorne said, stepping closer, "you're doing the opposite. You're letting your fear stop you from having something real. Don't confuse protection with punishment, Kael. You're not your mother. And Aria is not your burden."

Kael stared at him, words caught in his throat.

"She's your blessing," Thorne added. "If you're smart enough to stop running."

Aria walked through the training fields later that afternoon, dragging a wooden pail behind her filled with practice daggers. The air was warmer now, sun breaking through the morning haze. A few young wolves were already sparring, their laughter light and careless.

She wasn't sure what hurt more-the ache of Kael's rejection or the whispers that followed her everywhere she went. Some were sympathetic. Most were not.

"She's not even a warrior."

"Did she actually think she was worthy?"

"Poor thing. It'll pass. The Moon Goddess makes mistakes sometimes."

She wanted to scream. To shift. To tear through the lies and assumptions. But instead, she kept walking, head high, jaw tight.

"Aria!" a familiar voice called. Selene jogged over, braid swinging behind her.

"You okay?" Selene asked.

Aria offered a dry smile. "Define okay."

Selene shrugged. "Still breathing. Not stabbing anyone."

"Then yeah. I'm okay."

Selene looped an arm around her shoulder. "Come on. Let's spar. You look like you're two seconds away from breaking someone's nose."

They moved to the far edge of the field, where the grass grew tall and the world felt a little quieter.

Aria tossed Selene a dagger. "Did you know?" she asked as they squared up.

Selene blinked. "About the bond?"

"No. About Kael's mother."

Selene nodded slowly. "Only what I told you. She left. No one talks about it."

"He's afraid of being abandoned."

Selene tilted her head. "Or of becoming the one who abandons."

They traded blows, steel clinking softly. Aria's movements were sharper today, anger fueling precision.

"What are you going to do?" Selene asked between strikes.

Aria hesitated, then spun, landing a tap on Selene's shoulder. "I'm going to fight."

Selene grinned. "That's the spirit."

That evening, as dusk bled into night, Kael stood outside Aria's cabin.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there, fists clenched at his sides, heart beating far too fast. He'd practiced what he would say. Rehearsed it. Scrapped it. Started over. And now, staring at the wooden door, all the words dried up.

He raised a hand to knock.

The door opened before he touched it.

Aria stood there, dressed in a loose tunic, eyes unreadable.

"You look like you've been pacing for an hour," she said flatly.

"Closer to two."

She stepped aside. "Come in."

He entered, the cabin small but warm. A fire crackled softly. Herbs hung from the beams. It smelled like lavender and pine.

Kael stayed near the door, arms crossed like armour.

"I owe you an explanation," he said.

Aria arched an eyebrow. "You owe me more than that."

He nodded. "I know."

She waited.

Kael inhaled. "When I felt the bond, I panicked. Not because of you-because of what it meant. My mother left because she couldn't handle being Luna. My father never recovered. I swore I'd never... bring that kind of damage to someone."

"And you thought rejecting me would protect me?" she asked quietly.

"Yes."

"You thought breaking me was better than risking loving me?"

He flinched. "I thought I was broken. That you deserved more."

She stepped forward. "You don't get to decide what I deserve, Kael. You're not broken. You're scared. So am I. But I'm still here."

His voice cracked. "I don't know how to do this."

"Neither do I," she whispered. "But maybe... we can figure it out together."

He looked at her then, really looked. At the fire in her eyes. The strength. The hope.

Kael dropped his guard.

He stepped closer, and this time, when their eyes met, the bond pulsed between them-warm, welcoming, whole.

"I don't want to run anymore," he said.

"Then stay," she whispered.

He did.