Chapter Nine - Beneath the Moon and Steel
1386 Words
The forest of Duskwater was a different beast at night.
The trees stood tall like silent witnesses, their twisted limbs cloaked in shadows. The wind whispered between the branches, carrying the scent of rain, blood, and something darker still—ambition.
Kaelin rode at the head of the convoy, just behind Theron. Around them, a dozen elite guards flanked the perimeter, all armed to the teeth. These were not show dogs—they were the king’s wolves, trained to kill without question.
It had been three days since the court declared her Crown Omega. Three days since Theron had handed her a place at his side—and an invitation into a world of war.
Three days since someone had left a dagger and a warning at her door.
She hadn’t told Theron.
Not because she trusted him.
But because she didn’t trust anyone else to believe her instincts.
“Keep your eyes sharp,” Theron called over his shoulder as they veered off the cobblestone road into denser brush. “This stretch hasn’t been patrolled in weeks.”
Kaelin tightened her grip on the reins. Her wolf bristled under her skin, alert and coiled like a wire.
“Is this where the last attack happened?” she asked, eyes flicking to the treetops.
Theron nodded. “A border pack called Bramble Claw. All but six wiped out.”
“And no survivors could identify the attackers?”
“Only that they wore the colors of no pack.”
Kaelin frowned. “Rogues?”
“Or someone pretending to be.”
She didn’t reply, but unease curled in her gut like smoke.
Behind them, one of the guards let out a soft whistle. “Never thought I’d see the day the king rode with an omega.”
Kaelin’s jaw ticked.
Another voice laughed. “Pretty one too. Think she shares his tent?”
Before she could snap back, Theron’s voice sliced through the dusk like a blade.
“If you want to keep your tongues, I suggest you keep them behind your teeth.”
The silence that followed was heavy—and satisfying.
Kaelin didn’t thank him.
She didn’t need to.
Instead, she focused on the trail ahead.
Their party rode until moonrise, finally stopping in a crescent-shaped clearing by a stream. Scouts set traps and rotated watch while campfires flickered into life. Kaelin helped unpack supplies, refusing to sit idle.
When she carried the last bundle of furs to the fire, Theron appeared behind her.
“Walk with me.”
Kaelin hesitated.
But nodded.
They strolled past the edge of camp, the firelight fading behind them. Crickets sang in the long grass. The moon glimmered high above, a pale eye watching their every step.
“You’re restless,” he said.
“So are you.”
He glanced sideways at her. “You haven’t asked why I brought you.”
“I figured you’d tell me when you’re ready.”
He smiled, just barely. “I need someone who doesn’t lie to me.”
She arched a brow. “And you think that’s me?”
“I know it is.”
Kaelin stopped walking.
Faced him fully.
“Why?” she asked. “Why trust me? Why crown me? Why stake your reputation on someone who doesn’t even believe in the bond you keep hinting at?”
He looked at her for a long time.
Then: “Because you didn’t want it.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Power. Glory. Me. You didn’t chase any of it. You bled for it, but you never begged for it. That means I can trust your hunger.”
Kaelin felt her heart thud once.
Hard.
“You’re not wrong,” she whispered. “But you’re not entirely right either.”
He took a step closer. “Then tell me. What do you want, Kaelin?”
She looked up into his eyes—burning gold, sharp with restraint.
And said the first truth that came to her lips.
“I want to stop being owned.”
Theron reached out.
His fingers brushed the back of her hand—light as breath.
“I’ll never own you.”
Their eyes locked.
And for a moment, her wolf stirred.
Not in fear.
But in longing.
She stepped back before the pull could devour her.
“Good,” she said. “Because I bite.”
---
They returned to camp to find the air charged.
A scout rushed toward them. “Tracks. Fresh ones.”
Theron snapped into command. “Where?”
“South ridge. Heavy-footed. At least six. Maybe more. They’ve been watching us.”
Kaelin’s wolf surged forward, tension vibrating through every bone.
“Ambush?” she asked.
Theron nodded. “Or worse. Prepare for a fight.”
The next hour was a blur.
Kaelin armed herself with twin daggers, tucking one into her boot and one at her side. The same dagger that had been left at her door—its leather hilt now a symbol of suspicion.
Theron readied his sword and gave orders in quick succession. Guards flanked the edges of the camp. Fires were dimmed. Horses secured.
And then—silence.
Too much silence.
It broke all at once.
A scream. A clash of steel. Shadows exploding from the trees.
Rogues—or something like them—poured into the clearing. Covered in furs, faces masked, their weapons crude but deadly.
Kaelin moved like wind and fire, dodging a blade aimed at her ribs and slashing across a throat before the attacker could blink. She rolled, kicked, leapt, fought.
Nearby, Theron roared in Alpha fury, his sword cleaving bodies with brutal precision.
They fought back to back—then shoulder to shoulder.
But the enemy was relentless.
One slipped behind her.
She spun too late.
A flash of steel.
Then—Theron.
He took the blow meant for her.
It carved a gash across his left shoulder.
Blood gushed.
“Theron!”
He didn’t fall.
He didn’t falter.
He caught the attacker by the neck and snapped it with a roar.
Kaelin turned into a demon.
Fury fueled her limbs. She moved with terrifying grace, cutting down three more before the last of the rogues fled into the forest.
Panting.
Bleeding.
Alive.
Silence returned like a dropped veil.
Guards scrambled to regroup. Elric tended to wounds. The dead were counted.
And Kaelin ran to Theron, heart pounding.
“You’re hurt.”
He winced but nodded. “It’s not fatal.”
“You bled for me.”
“You would’ve done the same.”
She stared at him, throat tight.
“I didn’t ask you to protect me.”
“I didn’t need to ask.”
---
Hours later, in the quiet of her tent, Kaelin couldn’t sleep.
Her hands were stained with blood. Her thoughts knotted tight.
And her heart… confused.
Theron had fought like a god—but bled like a man.
For her.
Was that just duty?
Or something more?
She rose from her cot and stepped into the night.
The king’s tent was only a few feet away. Guards nodded as she approached but didn’t stop her.
Inside, Theron lay on a cot, his shoulder wrapped in fresh bandages. The wound oozed faintly, but he was awake—his eyes finding her the second she entered.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said softly.
“Neither could I.”
She knelt beside him, fingers brushing the edge of the cot.
“You could’ve died.”
“So could you.”
“I don’t want that.”
Silence stretched.
“I don’t know what this is between us,” she said. “And I still don’t believe in bonds.”
“But?”
She met his eyes.
“But I believe in you.”
He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath forever.
Then reached out and took her hand in his.
“You don’t have to believe in fate,” he whispered. “Just choose me.”
She didn’t answer.
But she didn’t pull away either.
---
Outside the tent, beyond the firelight and tents, a shadow watched them.
A figure cloaked in fur and scentless powder.
A spy of Vale.
And in his hand—another note.
"She’s with him now. Closer than ever. But she doesn’t know what he’s hiding."
---
- Writer
