Kael's paws pounded against the forest floor, each stride a raw display of the power locked within his lycan form. The dense canopy above muted the moonlight, letting only slivers of silver filter through the trees, painting his fur in fleeting streaks of light and shadow. His breathing was heavy, ragged, the cold night air burning his lungs with every inhale. But he didn't stop. He couldn't. He had lost track of how much time he had spent in the forest.
He pushed harder, his massive frame weaving between ancient trunks, his claws leaving gouges in the earth as he propelled himself forward. The forest was a blur of motion, but it wasn't enough to quiet the storm inside him.
This was his escape—this relentless run, the visceral connection to his lycan nature, the pure, unfiltered freedom of the hunt. Normally, it was his salvation, a way to drown out the noise in his head. But tonight, even the primal rush wasn't enough.
The bond was there. It was always there now, simmering beneath the surface, pulling at him, mocking him with its warmth and intimacy. A bond that should have been his salvation was instead his torment.
Theron.
Kael let out a guttural growl, the sound echoing through the silent woods. His pace faltered, his powerful body slowing until he came to a halt near a shallow stream. The moonlight glittered on the surface of the water, but Kael didn't notice. His mind was too full, his chest too tight.
He shifted back into his human form, the change seamless but exhausting in his current state. His skin prickled as the cold air bit into him, but he didn't care. He leaned heavily against a tree, the rough bark grounding him as he raked a hand through his damp hair.
His golden eyes, still faintly glowing, stared down at his trembling hands. Hands that could destroy anything that threatened his mate. Hands that couldn't even hold onto him.
The anger came first—a fierce, blazing rage directed at everything and nothing. At Theron, for hiding the bond. At himself, for not realizing it sooner. At the gods, for tying his soul to someone who clearly didn't want him.
But beneath the anger was something far worse: a hollow ache that gnawed at him, threatening to consume him whole.
Why doesn't he want me?
The question looped in his mind, unrelenting. The bond was sacred, unbreakable, the very foundation of their kind. Yet Theron had hidden it, avoided it, rejected it in a way that made Kael's chest tighten painfully.
Kael crouched by the stream, his reflection staring back at him in the rippling water. The icy surface distorted his face, twisting it into something unrecognizable. He splashed water onto his skin, the cold shocking him back to the present for a fleeting moment.
"You're the lycan prince," he muttered, his voice low and rough. "Act like it. Fix this."
But how? The bond was his to protect, but Theron's to accept. He couldn't force it. And yet, every fiber of his being screamed at him to go back, to find his mate and end this torment. To mark him, claim him, fix the frayed edges of their connection and make him understand what they could be.
His lycan growled in agreement, the beast within clawing at him, demanding he stop running and start fighting for what was his. The wolf didn't understand hesitation or rejection. It only knew the pull of its mate, the undeniable need to make Theron his in every way.
But Kael couldn't. He wouldn't. Not when Theron had kept this from him, not when he didn't even know if his mate wanted him.
The ache in his chest grew sharper, almost unbearable, as a familiar scent suddenly washed over him.
Amber. Honey. Earth after rain.
The scent was warm, golden, and intoxicating, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace and pulling at something deep in his soul. It was Theron. The bond flared to life, more tangible than ever, an invisible thread drawing him forward with an urgency he couldn't resist.
Finally, the veil was gone.
Kael's body moved on instinct, shifting back into his lycan form in a blur of motion. His paws dug into the earth as he took off toward the source of the scent, his surroundings a whirlwind as he focused on the only thing that mattered.
Theron.
Every step brought him closer, the bond thrumming louder in his mind, drowning out everything else. He didn't know what he would do when he reached him, didn't know if he could stop himself from claiming what was already his.
The rustle of leaves nearby snapped Kael out of his haze. His ears twitched, his entire body going rigid as he skidded to a stop, claws digging into the soft earth. The world seemed to still, every sound muted except for the rapid pounding of his heart. His golden eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, scanning the shadows with a predatory intensity.
A scent reached him first, curling around him like a whispered promise. Amber. Honey. Rain-kissed earth. It was Theron, and it wasn't just a trace—it was overwhelming, rich, and intoxicating. It filled Kael's senses, made his chest tighten with an ache so profound it stole his breath.
He came for me.
That thought, fragile and hopeful, brought a flicker of warmth to the storm inside him. But it was fleeting, drowned out by the weight of everything else. Why was Theron here? Was he worried about him? Did he even know what his presence was doing to Kael?
The tension in the air was palpable as Kael's gaze locked onto a faint movement in the underbrush. A small figure emerged, hesitant and wary, as though stepping onto a battlefield unarmed.
Theron.
Kael's breath caught as the gnome stepped into the moonlight. He looked fragile, his normally composed demeanor shattered. His shoulders were hunched, his movements slow and deliberate, like someone walking toward their own execution. The sight made Kael's heart clench painfully. Theron wasn't just scared—he was terrified.
But beneath the fear, Kael saw something else. A determination, raw and unyielding, flickered in the gnome's eyes. He had come despite his fear, despite whatever doubts were plaguing him.
Kael took a step forward, his muscles taut with the effort to stay in control. His wolf clawed at him, desperate to close the distance, to touch, to claim.
Theron's gaze finally lifted, and their eyes met.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
The bond surged to life between them, a golden thread woven from the depths of their very souls. It wasn't just a connection—it was everything. Kael felt it in every fiber of his being, a warmth that spread through him like sunlight breaking through the coldest winter.
For Theron, it was like stepping into a dream. The moment their eyes locked, the fear and anxiety that had been crushing him melted away, replaced by something indescribable. The bond flared, vivid and alive, flooding him with a sense of belonging so profound it brought tears to his eyes.
Kael's golden eyes glowed brighter, the light in them softening as he took in Theron's expression. The gnome's mismatched eyes—one the color of molten amber, the other a cool, stormy gray—reflected a mixture of awe and vulnerability. They were beautiful, like the shifting hues of a sunrise over the horizon.
The forest around them seemed to transform, the moonlight turning ethereal as it bathed them in a silvery glow. The trees stood silent, their towering forms like ancient sentinels bearing witness to the moment. The stream nearby glittered like liquid starlight, its gentle babbling a soft melody that filled the quiet.
Kael felt his breath hitch, his heart pounding in a rhythm that matched the pulsing of the bond. He wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but words felt insignificant in the face of what was happening.
Theron's lips parted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Kael…"