Kael
Ten hours in chains.
That's how long it took before I could wrestle control back from my beast. Ten hours of fighting against the primal rage that consumed me the moment I shifted in that auction house. The curse made sure that violence fed the beast, made him stronger, harder to contain. And once he tasted blood in that form, getting him back under control was like trying to cage a wildfire.
My wrists still bore the angry red welts that'd heal within the hour but reminded me how close I'd come to losing myself completely.
Even now, hours after the chains came off, I could feel him prowling just beneath my skin. Restless. Hungry. Fighting for control with every breath I took.
This was why the castle stayed so empty and silent. Why servants knew to disappear after I returned from any fight. They'd learned long ago that in the hours after violence, I was more beast than man, and getting too close meant death.
But even the lingering bloodlust, even the beast's constant pressure, couldn't distract me from her.
I'd brought them here. The omega and her child.
My hand clenched into a fist. What the hell had I been thinking? She was a rogue omega with a fresh severing scar on her throat. By pack law, she should be executed on sight. She was a threat to everything I'd built over decades. The council would tear me apart for this. I could already hear them snarling.
But it wasn't the council that made my beast pace so hard, that made him push against my control like he was trying to claw his way out.
It was her and that fucking scent.
Wildflowers and honey. Sweet and pure, cutting through even the blood that still clung to me. Rogues didn't have scents like that, they smelled of rot. But this one was different and it was driving me toward madness in a way three centuries of the curse never had.
And those eyes. In five centuries of living, I'd seen every eye color imaginable. But something about those green eyes haunted me in ways I couldn't explain. Every time I reached for why they felt so damn familiar, the thought slipped away like smoke.
Her scent was everywhere. Even my study reeked of it, though she had never set foot in here.
I stopped pacing and slammed my hands on the desk. My claws extended on their own, gouging fresh marks into the already scarred wood. I could see her face perfectly, like she was standing right in front of me. Those wide green eyes staring up at me from that corner of the auction house, filled with terror as I stood over her covered in blood.
For the first time in years, I'd lost complete control of my beast. I don't lose control. I couldn't lose control.
A knock at the door yanked me back. I straightened, as Silas walked into the room. I could still feel the beast on the surface so I knew I had to be more careful with my interactions.
"I didn't tell you to enter," I said, my voice coming out rougher than I wanted, still carrying the beast's growl.
"Forgive me, Your Grace." Silas bowed but kept walking with his usual calm, though I noticed how his eyes tracked my movements, checking my control. "I thought you'd want this report immediately."
"The traffickers have been dealt with," he cleared his throat before he continued. "We lost several in the raid, and many patrons escaped. All the captive women have been released and sent to nearby tribes with notes of protection." He paused. "We kept five traffickers alive. They're in the dungeon waiting for your questioning."
"You took prisoners?" I said after a long silence. "Some would say you're getting soft, Silas."
I was testing him. He didn't bite. Just stood there, steady as always.
"There's another matter," he said flatly. "The omega. Her name's Dionne." He hesitated. "And the child is Nora."
"What about them?"
"They're in the south wing," he explained. "But Kael, it might be better if they don't leave the castle. Word's already spreading. A rogue omega and her kid in the King's home? It won't go over well, especially with the Elders. Maybe we should move them to one of the tribes… with the other women."
I leaned against the desk and crossed my arms. "Will you send Violet to the tribes too? She doesn't belong here either by that logic."
Silas's eyes flashed with something raw before it vanished. That brief reaction satisfied something dark in me.
"You know it's different. Violet was—"
I straightened to my full height, my voice going cold. "She's a slave now, Silas. Same as the mother and child."
He flinched, his jaw tight, then gave a stiff nod. "Of course, Your Grace." But I could feel his disapproval.
Silas bowed and left. Once his footsteps faded, I turned back to the fireplace.
Slave. That's all she's going to be here. That should've been the end of it. So why couldn't I stop thinking about her? Why did that scent keep haunting every breath I took?
After Silas left, silence pressed in from all sides.
I sat behind my desk and pulled the nearest document from the stack. Maybe paperwork would bore me enough to forget about this scent and finally let me sleep.
A petition from the Northern Border Patrol. Something about timber and shipment delays.
The letters blurred together. I blinked and tried reading the first line again. Then a third time. The words made no sense.
Damn it.
I shoved the paperwork aside with a snarl. It was that cursed scent. It pounded in my skull like a drum. I couldn't focus on anything else.
My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. That omega had branded herself into my mind. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe without that cloying sweetness filling my lungs.
I shoved back from the desk, the chair scraping harsh against stone.
This was beyond tolerance. I needed control back. I needed something to ground me and quiet the beast still prowling so close to the surface.
Blood usually did the trick and I knew exactly where to find it.