Kael has never been afraid of silence.
He learned about silence at a young age:
the silence that falls after a kill,
the silence that settles in before an attack,
the silence that looks you straight in the eye,
and asks if you're going to run away.
But this silence is different.
It is too full.
The cave is quiet, but the stone still vibrates with what it has witnessed.
Kael feels it under his fingers, under his feet, even in his chest.
The world has not forgotten what happened here.
Lunaya is asleep.
Or at least, her body is resting.
Kael doesn't like the way she is so still. Too quiet. Too fragile.
As if something inside her had withdrawn just far enough to be out of reach.
He stands leaning against the wall, arms crossed,
his posture seemingly relaxed.
In reality, every muscle is ready.
He listens to everything. The air. The rock.
The irregular beating of his own heart when he looks at her.
He was never meant to observe from afar.
Moonfangs protect by advancing, biting, taking the blows for those who cannot.
But with her, it's different.
He has no room for error.
He closes his eyes for a second, just one,
and the image comes back despite himself.
The moment she disappeared.
Not a scream.
Not a struggle.
Just... absence.
As if the world had blinked and decided she was no longer there.
Kael clenches his jaw.
He has lost members of his pack before. Brothers. Sisters.
He knows what it's like to bury someone.
But this emptiness had nothing to do with death.
It was worse.
It was the feeling that something had been taken from him,
that he hadn't even realized he was protecting.
He opened his eyes again.
Lunaya moved slightly. Her breath caught, then resumed.
A silvery glow slipped beneath her skin for a moment,
fleeting, almost shameful, before disappearing.
Kael looked away.
Not because he is afraid.
Because he refuses to look at her like the others do.
He thinks of Erynd despite himself.
Of that name that always comes back too close to her.
Of that invisible bond that pulls her elsewhere.
He is not jealous.
Jealousy is a luxury for those who want to possess.
He wants to prevent her from being torn away.
"You chose her over me, he thinks, without anger.
And now you're paying for it."
He knows Erynd is suffering.
He can feel it in Lunaya's tension, in those silences where she seems to be listening to someone who isn't there.
He knows what the Corbins do to the things they want to keep conscious.
But that doesn't change one simple truth:
if they want to get to him, they'll have to go through her,
and if they want to break her, they'll have to go through him.
Kael finally moves closer.
He crouches down next to her, without touching her.
He looks at her face, the faint circles under her eyes,
the ancient fatigue, older than this night.
"You weren't made to carry all this alone," he whispers softly.
He doesn't know if she hears him.
But he doesn't care.
He's speaking for himself.
"The fire will want to burn the world.
The shadow will want to calculate everything.
The Corbins will want you to believe you have no choice."
A slow grin spreads across his face.
"I'm not made to think so much."
He finally places a hand on the ground, right next to her.
Not on her. Never without her consent.
"I'm made to stand when everything else gives way."
A low growl rises in his chest, discreet but real.
A warning that only the wild world understands.
"As long as you breathe...
No one will turn you into a legend."
He slowly gets up and returns to his place facing the entrance.
His back to danger.
Facing her.
A wolf doesn't make promises.
He keeps them.