Even before anyone entered, Aiden felt it—the shift in the air, the way pack scent crept closer, curious, cautious. Footsteps passed outside the den. Paused. Lingering for no reason at all.
Aiden pushed himself upright with a quiet hiss before Theron could move.
"I've got it," he muttered.
Theron stopped instantly.
That… was new.
Aiden swung his legs over the edge of the bed, the motion sending a dull ache through his spine. He breathed through it, refusing to show it on his face. His shirt hung loose on him, collar slipping just enough to reveal the edge of the mark beneath.
He knew they could smell it anyway.
The den door opened.
Ronan slipped in first, dark eyes flicking from Aiden to Theron and back again. His mouth quirked.
"Well," he said lightly, "you look like hell."
Aiden snorted. "You should see the other guy."
Ronan grinned—then his expression softened when he caught the way Aiden shifted his weight, careful despite himself.
Behind Ronan, others hovered. Not crowding. Not intruding.
Watching.
Aiden felt it then—the way eyes slid to him and didn't slide away fast enough. The way alphas adjusted their stance unconsciously. The way betas hesitated, unsure whether to treat him the same or differently.
Someone murmured, barely audible, "That's the Alpha King's omega…"
Aiden's jaw tightened.
Not angry. Not embarrassed.
Something darker.
One of the alphas stepped forward—not aggressive, not openly challenging. Just close enough. His scent rolled out, subtle but deliberate, pressing against Aiden's senses like a question.
"You should be resting," the alpha said mildly. "Wouldn't want you getting hurt again."
Aiden felt Theron's attention sharpen behind him.
Felt his wolf stir.
Theron didn't move.
That was worse.
Aiden took a single step forward, putting himself between Theron and the alpha without looking back.
"I am resting," Aiden said quietly.
The room stilled.
He lifted his chin, blue eyes steady. "That doesn't mean I'm fragile."
His scent shifted—not submissive, not challenging.
Controlled.
The alpha blinked. Took a step back. Dipped his head slightly.
"Of course," he said.
The tension broke—not loudly, but decisively.
People looked away. Conversations resumed, softer now. Different.
Ronan watched Aiden with something like pride.
Later—much later—the den was quiet again.
Theron moved only when Aiden settled back onto the bed, careful, slow. He handed him water instead of lifting him. Adjusted the blanket without touching skin.
Aiden noticed everything.
"You're hovering," he murmured.
Theron huffed softly. "The healer threatened me."
That earned a quiet laugh from Aiden, breathy and real.
Theron sat on the edge of the bed, close but not crowding. "Does it hurt?"
"Yes," Aiden said honestly. Then added, "Not… badly."
Theron nodded, as if storing that away. "If it gets worse—"
"I'll tell you."
A beat.
"You don't have to watch me like I'll break," Aiden added, softer.
Theron met his gaze. "I know."
And Aiden realized—he really did.
Aiden leaned back, letting his head rest against Theron's chest. The ache was still there. The mark still burned faintly. The pack still watched.
But for the first time, it didn't feel like judgment.
It felt like acknowledgment.
And that… changed everything.