Rejected By The Alpha, Desired By The King

KAEL – POV

We walked for hours in silence. The grove lay behind us like a closed door we didn't dare look back at. Every leaf whispered. Every tree leaned in.

Ayla didn't speak, but I could feel her sensing—stretching that new power of hers like a wolf testing the shape of its teeth.

The air itself felt warped around her. Something between heat and pressure and inevitability. I'd seen queens in gold palaces look less commanding in full regalia than she did in my cloak, ash-smudged and barefoot.

It wasn't just her scent that had changed.

It was gravity.

The bond had shifted. Still present, still alive. But it didn't pull anymore. It waited.

Just like I did.

We reached the clearing by dusk. A ring of moss-covered stones surrounded us, remnants of some forgotten rite. The wind died here. Even the birds had gone silent.

She stopped.

"They're watching," she said quietly.

I scanned the forest. "Rogues?"

"No," she murmured. "The Seers."

That made my spine stiff.

"They don't need eyes when they have threads. The Council has always woven their reach through the bonds. It's how they find us. How they name us. How they… erase us."

Her voice didn't tremble. It sharpened.

"They're already moving against me."

I stepped closer. "We'll leave. Cross the outer ridge. Go where their bloodlines can't follow."

She turned, slow. "Kael, they don't need a name to erase someone. They only need a story. A lie that sounds like the truth."

I didn't know what to say to that.

But I knew this—

If the Seers wanted war, they'd have to bleed for it.

We didn't sleep that night. We made camp near an old Luna shrine, half-buried under ash and forgotten prayers. The moon carved silver paths through the trees. Ayla sat with her back to the stones, sharpening a dagger she hadn't needed in days.

It wasn't the blade she was reading.

It was herself.

"You've changed," I said.

"I remembered who I was," she replied.

"I'm sorry it had to hurt this much."

"I'm not."

The silence stretched again.

Then she said, "When you were crowned, did you feel like you earned it?"

I thought for a long time.

"No. But I did what I had to do. For the wolves I swore to protect."

"Even if it meant sacrificing a Luna?"

Her eyes met mine.

"You didn't know me yet," she said. "But your court did. Your Seers did. They signed my name into a grave before I ever had a chance to speak."

I didn't defend them.

I couldn't.

So I stood up.

Walked to her side.

Kneeled.

Not because I was less than her.

Because I was with her.

"I won't let them bury you," I said. "Not again."

Her breath hitched, just once.

And in the hush that followed, something shifted.

The bond didn't just pulse.

It warmed, like a heartbeat answering another.

Rylan arrived at dawn.

His coat was damp with dew, and his eyes looked like they'd seen too much and not enough.

"They've moved," he said. "The Seers. The High Council. I watched their threads braid toward the east. They're called a Sovereign Convergence."

Ayla's face stayed unreadable.

I knew what that meant. An emergency gathering of ruling bloodlines. The only time such a thing was invoked… was for war.

Or worse.

Erasure.

"They'll vote on your fate without inviting you to speak," Rylan said. "They'll offer three truths that are lies. Then pass a ruling by moonrise."

"They're afraid," Ayla said simply.

"Yes."

"They should be."

That night we reached Moon Mirror Lake.

The waters were still, black glass reflecting only the moon, not us.

Ayla stood on the cliff above it, wind pulling at her cloak. I kept watch nearby, unable to rest. I couldn't leave her alone with her thoughts—or the silence.

She finally spoke.

"If I go to them, they'll cage me."

"If you don't, they'll kill you in absentia."

"I'm not afraid of death."

"I'm afraid of a world without you in it."

She looked at me.

"I don't need a protector."

"I know."

"But I need a partner."

I stepped forward.

"Then let's burn the rules they made."

Her smile was small, tired, feral.

And then—The lake moved. Not wind. Something beneath the surface rippled.

A dark bloom rose from the deep.

A single figure. Robed in ash. Masked in bone.

A Seer Messenger.

Bound to no court.

Dead to all law.

It stepped onto the water like it was earth.

And it spoke with a thousand voices:

"The First Luna must come. The bond must break. The blood must be paid."

The Seer Messenger stood on the surface of Moon Mirror Lake, unmoving.

Bone masked. Robes like smoke. No scent. No heartbeat.

It didn't breathe.

It didn't blink.

It just stared at Ayla.

"The First Luna must come. The bond must break. The blood must be paid."

The voice echoed—not from the lake, but inside my skull. Like prophecy laced with poison.

Ayla didn't step back. Didn't flinch.

She stepped forward.

The cloak fell from her shoulders.

The runes on her skin began to glow.

She raised her chin. "You speak in riddles. But I speak in blood."

The Messenger tilted its head.

"You have altered the path. Unwoven the thread."

"I didn't unweave it," she said. "I burned it down."

The lake hissed beneath her words.

I moved to stand beside her, blade unsheathed, breath steady.

Ayla placed her hand on my chest.

"This isn't your fight," she said.

"You're wrong," I said. "It's always been my fight. I just didn't know who I was supposed to fight for."

She held my gaze. A thousand memories passed between us. The betrayal. The escape. The grove. The trial. The bond.

Then she turned back to the lake.

"Go back to your masters," she called. "Tell them the First Luna does not kneel."

The Messenger didn't move.

It lifted a single hand.

And then it split.

Down the middle.

Bone peeled away. Smoke poured out like ash from a shattered altar.

Something inside it moved. Shifted. Uncoiled.

Rylan shouted from behind us.

"It's not a Seer anymore. It's a conduit. Run!"

But Ayla didn't run.

She stepped toward it.

The smoke surged. Took shape. A creature of sinew and bone, eyes glowing white, mouth stitched shut with golden thread.

It wasn't just here to threaten.

It was here to erase.

Ayla raised her arms.

Magic flared from her palms.

But the creature absorbed it. Drank it. And grew taller.

Kael, move.

I did.

I lunged at it, blade cutting through smoke and bone. It shrieked, not in pain, but in pleasure.

Behind me, Ayla chanted.

Not in Common Tongue.

In Luna-speech.

Words the forest itself bent to hear.

The lake glowed.

The creature lunged again.

But this time, it struck a barrier. Ayla's runes had lifted off her skin and formed a shield of spinning sigils.

It wailed. Clawed at the air.

And Ayla's eyes went white.

The First Luna wasn't whispering anymore.

She was speaking through her.

"Your time is done. My line will rise."

The sigils turned into spears of moonlight.

They struck the creature in the chest.

It burst like glass.

Water surged.

Light swallowed the lake.

When the light faded, Ayla stood in the shallows. Alone. Barefoot. Radiant.

The runes had faded.

But her crown had not.

Not one woven from metal.

One built from the way the land bent around her.

She turned to me.

"They won't stop," she said.

"Then we don't either," I replied.

She nodded, and smiled.

The war had begun.

But it wouldn't be fought with teeth alone.

It would be fought with truth.

With bond.

And with the wrath of Luna who finally knew her name.