His Abandoned Luna, Her Disabled Alpha

CHAPTER 17

"I told you before, Jaxon." Luke's tone sharpened. "It's not your place to worry about Ivy. We are here for that."

He stepped closer, breathing harshly as his temper boiled, his gaze unwavering. "Don't cross the line you shouldn't. You are engaged to Emma, not Ivy. I expect you to stay loyal to her."

With that, Luke turned and walked away, leaving Jaxon staring at his back.

Jaxon ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. He understood where Luke was coming from. Emma was his sister, his protectiveness was justified.

Yet, he couldn't shake off the undeniable pull he felt towards Ivy. It was persistent and unsettling, something he wasn't sure he could resist.

Another wave of frustration rose within him as his gaze, heavy with unspoken longing, drifted back to her door.

"I expect you to stay loyal to her." Luke's words echoed in his mind like a warning.

Jaxon forced himself to look away. His steps felt like weights as he left the third floor.

--

-The capital-

Heavy footsteps echoed through the stone walls of the palace as Leon, dressed in rainboots and a thick coat, made his way through the desolate corridors of the eastern wing towards the study.

His straight back and stoic face didn't betray a hint of worry circulating in his mind. Only the hasty raise and fall of his chest beneath the folds of his coat gave it away.

Rain had come unexpectedly that morning. Beyond the tall windows, the sky hung dark and heavy, droplets and hail tapping steadily against the coloured glass. The air was sharp with frost, cold enough to sting the lungs of an ordinary man.

Leon's breath fogged faintly before him, but his steps never slowed. He came to a half before a pair of wooden doors, pausing only briefly to steady his thoughts before knocking.

"Enter." A voice heavy with fatigue came from inside. Leon pushed the door open, the hinges creaking softly as he stepped inside.

He was met a dark room. Heavy curtains blocked the only window, trapping stale air inside, faintly tinged with smoke. A large wooden desk stood at the centre, cluttered with scattered papers, books, maps and ink stained pens. Tell shelves lined the walls, each coated in a thick layer of dust.

The overall condition was worse than an average storage room in the palace, yet nobody dared to enter the space of the Lycan prince. Not while he was inside and even moreso while he was away.

The usual silence of the study had been disrupted by the rain and faint crackling of wood in the fireplace. The faint light illuminated the face of a man in the middle of it all, bound to a wheelchair, his head resting back, eyes closed; like someone lost in a dream.

"Your highness -" Leon rushed to his side, draping a blanket over him. "I've told you countless times to keep extra clothes nearby. The weather is unpredictable recently."

Kael cracked one eye open, revealing a faint green glint. "And I've told you just as many times to stop fussing over me. Both of us are born stubborn, I guess."

"It's my job to make sure you're alright." Leon replied stiffly, tucking the blanket securely around him. Then he moved around the room, beginning to tidy the scattered mess.

Kael watched in silence as Leon worked, Stacking loose papers into neat piles, returning books to their shelves, wiping down the desk, organising the stationery and rolling up the maps with practiced ease.

"Aren't you tired of this?" Kael asked suddenly.

Leon paused, glancing back, surprise flickering across his face before settling to a dead calm. "Me? Why would I be tired of it?"

Kael let out a soft chuckle, though there was no amusement in his eyes. He manoeuvred his wheelchair to the now cleared desk, his gaze drifting, as it always did, toward a small wooden box resting at its edge.

Slowly, he reached for it, his body straining against the dead weight of his legs.

Leon frowned, instinctively wanting to help, but held himself back. This was the one thing Kael never allowed assistance with.

When that box first appeared, Leon had tried more than once to place it within easy reach, only to be met with a cold, disapproving stare.

"This box holds something precious to me." Kael had once said. "Something I haven't attained yet. The distance between it and me reminds me how much further I still have to go."

It was the kind of answer that raised more questions than it resolved. Leon had learnt not to ask again.

So he helplessly watched, as Kael pushed himself beyond limits, to reach it, only to brush its surface lightly with his sleeve each time.

Once in a while, that box would fall prey to his desperate fingers and tumble into his palm. Today happened to be such an eventful day.

Kael didn't make a show of his emotions but the quiet gleam in his eyes gave away his happiness.

Leon quietly rearranged the papers and other things that were messed up in the process and stepped back.

"Weren't you assigned to the west wing last week?" Kael asked, placing the box on the desk and flicking it back to its place with his fingers. "Why did you rush back? Don't tell me you were afraid I'll freeze in the rain?"

That's half the reason, Leon thought. He wasn't about to say it though. Kael still has his pride and he'd be dead before he steps on it.

Leon shook his head. He stepped closer, lowering his voice as he leaned in to whisper something into Kael's ear.

As the words settled, the faint gentleness in Kael's eyes vanished. In its place, a sharp, cold glint emerged, like steel catching light.

"I haven't visited my mother in a while." Kael said quietly. "It seems she has forgotten I'm still alive."

His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest of his wheelchair.

"Take me to the main hall." He ordered. "Let's remind her of my existence."