"It was freezing. The place was empty. Not even the groundskeeper wolves were about."
We rode back to the den in silence.
I closed my eyes, pretending to rest, but caught the slight curve at the corner of his lips through my lashes.
I hadn't seen that expression in five years.
Alive. Animated. Brimming with barely contained joy. His whole body hummed with an energy that had been absent since the night of our mating feast, when everything shattered.
Ever since my sire died—throwing himself between me and Raven's rushing vehicle—Kael had always been so careful around me. Muted. Walking on eggshells. Treating me like something fragile that might break if he spoke too loudly or moved too fast.
Everyone in the territory thought we had the perfect ending. The tragic young Alpha and his devoted Omega mate, bound together by sacrifice and loss. In reality, we'd turned our mating bond into something politely frozen. Two wolves sharing a den but never truly touching.
We pulled through the ward seals of our estate and walked inside, one after the other, without a word. The great hall stretched before us, cold despite the roaring hearth.
"Raven..."
Kael's hand froze mid-air, still holding his house slippers. The name slipped from his lips like a sigh, like a prayer.
That name.
Something dark and violent surged up from the pit of my stomach. My wolf, dormant for so long, suddenly clawed at my insides with renewed fury.
The crack of my palm against his face echoed through the entrance hall, bright enough to make the enchanted torches flare.
"Kael Stormhowl. Are you awake now?"
He stared at me, one hand pressed to his reddening cheek, eyes wide with shock. As if he couldn't believe I still had claws. As if he'd forgotten I was anything more than a shadow in his den.
"I'm Lyra Ashvale. Not Raven."
"What's this—finished pouring your heart out and now you can't wait to take her back to your den?"
Kael's eyes went wide, disbelief written across his face.
"You—you saw that?"
"Lyra, let me explain—"
I didn't move. Just stood there, waiting for his explanation.
He fumbled for words, then his head dropped in defeat.
"I'm sorry!"
Sorry. Again with the apologies. Five years of hearing those two words had worn them hollow.
Every time he said them, it was just another reminder that he'd actually betrayed the bond we shared.