Kael
The cool morning wind whipped across the balcony, but the cold air wasn't enough to ease the storm raging inside me. Below, the eastern courtyard lay silent and empty.
Everyone avoided this part of the compound, and as much as I knew it was for the best, I still missed when the warriors would train in the courtyard below or when the servants roamed around, whispering and gossiping amongst themselves.
I rested my hands on the cold stone railing. Even now, after scrubbing them raw, I could still smell the blood. It wasn't fresh anymore, but the coppery, rotten smell of an old wound.
My hands, my kingdom, my soul, all of it felt stained.
And with the arrival of this omega and her child, everything felt worse.
I hated her. I hated the cloying, sweet scent that now clung to the castle halls and followed me everywhere I went.
"Kael, the council elders are gathered in the War Chambers. It's time for our meeting," Silas called from the door, breaking me out of my thoughts.
It'd been four days since I'd brought the rogue omega and her child into my kingdom, four days since the council elders had been simmering, waiting for their moment to explode. I knew addressing them was inevitable, but it didn't mean I was ready to face them.
Sighing heavily, I turned from the balcony and followed Silas out of the room. The voices of my council elders were already buzzing in the stuffy chamber, and I moved to settle at the head of the table.
Elder Marcus was speaking about border tensions with the northern tribes, and Elder Rowan was detailing trade route disputes. The words washed over me, meaningless. After ruling for centuries, these meetings were starting to feel mundane. It didn't help that my mind was brewing with chaos.
My traitorous mind wasn't here. It was back to two nights ago where Dionne stood trembling as she held her daughter. The way her unruly midnight curls fell around her face. The way her chin quivered when she met my eyes, pleadings there that made my own resolve flicker dangerously close to breaking.
"Your Grace?"
I blinked.
Elder Vance was staring at me from across the long stone table, his silver brows furrowed. The others had gone silent. He was a weasel of a man who'd grown fat and bold now that our kingdom was at peace.
"I asked about the girl," he said slowly. "The rogue and her pup."
"She's being housed within the servant quarters," I replied, my voice colder than ice. "Under watch."
Vance narrowed his eyes. "With all due respect, Your Grace, we can't be seen harboring not just a stray from that illegal enterprise, but a rogue omega. It sets a dangerous precedent. Rumors are starting to spread, and after what our kingdom's gone through, some might start to question your judgment."
Elder Marcus nodded in agreement. "He's right. We haven't seen a rogue omega in centuries, and for good reason too. If word of this mutt gets out, it'll be disastrous. The tribes will see it as weakness."
The word mutt made my blood stir dangerously. A low growl rumbled in my chest before I could stop it.
I stared down Vance, letting the silence stretch until he started to sweat. "Vance," I said, my voice low and calm yet carrying the weight of death. "I won the war that gave you the privilege of sitting in this chamber. I've buried more enemies than you've ever dared to face. Don't ever lecture me on judgment."
Elder Marcus leaned forward, elbows on the stone table. "He's right, Your Grace. The timing's dangerous. The northern tribes are already stirring. The High Warden of the Icewood sent a message this morning. They've heard the whispers. If they believe we've grown soft, it won't just be rumors we deal with… it'll be blood."
A murmur of agreement passed between the elders.
I didn't move at first. My fingers curled into a tight fist against the polished surface of the table, but I kept my expression neutral.
Rowan, ever the cautious one, raised his voice slightly. "Your Grace, we serve you. We've always served you. But the law against the omen was written in blood. You know that better than any of us. The Red Valley wasn't just history—it was a warning. When omens walk freely, they bring about destruction. It's the reason they're treated the way they are worldwide. If they know the power that they truly possess, it'll be fatal for us all. It's about control, lineage, power. We can't afford to let sentiment—"
"Enough,"
The room fell silent again.
"You believe I've forgotten Red Valley? I was there. When the High Packs burned, when the ferals lost their minds to scent and bloodlust. I watched whole legions fall to madness. But it wasn't the damn rogue omega that caused it. This whole omen this is superstitious, and it's been for centuries…"
Vance opened his mouth to speak, but I raised a hand, silencing him.
"I don't make decisions lightly," I said. "She and her child are under guard, not freedom. She will not be causing problems."
"You can't guarantee that," Marcus pushed, voice firm now. "These omens carry power, Your Grace. Ancient power. Whether you choose to believe it or not. We don't know what she's capable of."
I almost laughed at the thought of Dionne being capable of… well anything. She barely spoke above a whisper.
My jaw tightened. I let the silence stretch, long enough for the tension to thicken around us.
"Until I say otherwise, they stay. Here."
A sharp knock at the door cut through the heavy silence that'd fallen over the chamber. Every head turned toward the sound, the sudden interruption jarring after the weight of the conversation.
"Enter," I called out, my voice carrying the edge of irritation at being disturbed.
The door opened just a crack, and then it hit me like a blow.
Wildflowers and honey, sweet and intoxicating, flooding the war chamber with an intensity that made my vision blur at the edges. My beast, which had been prowling restlessly beneath my skin throughout the entire meeting, suddenly surged forward with a violence that nearly knocked me off balance.
Every muscle in my body had gone rigid as I fought against the transformation that my beast was demanding. My hands gripped the edge of the table so hard I felt the stone would collapse. Gold bled into my vision, and I felt my control slipping like sand through clenched fists.
What in Obsidian was she doing here?