The night should have calmed him.
Instead, it sharpened everything.
Kael remained on the balcony long after Riven had taken his leave, the guards retreating to their posts. The wind tugged at his dark hair, cool against skin that still burned from restless thoughts. His wolf stirred uneasily beneath his ribs—pacing, circling, unsettled.
Not recognizing.
Just… aware.
His gaze drifted again to the gardens below, though Lyria Selene had long disappeared into the servants' quarters. Yet her scent lingered faintly in the air, clinging stubbornly to the night like a whisper that refused to fade.
Kael inhaled sharply.
His wolf reacted instantly.
Muscles tensed. Spine straightened. A low, frustrated growl rolled in his chest before he could stop it.
"Damn it," he muttered, fingers tightening around the stone railing.
There was no bond.
No clarity.
No instinctive certainty like other Alphas spoke of—the unmistakable knowing that fate had chosen their mate. Kael had been robbed of that long ago, stolen by a curse laid upon him before he could even shift for the first time.
And yet…
His body responded to her as if something ancient had been disturbed.
Not recognition.
Disturbance.
She unsettled his wolf.
That alone was dangerous.
Below, Lyria slowed her steps, pressing a hand lightly against her chest as her heartbeat refused to settle.
The palace felt different tonight.
Heavier.
As though the air itself carried awareness.
She glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting to see the Alpha standing behind her, amber eyes burning into her soul. But the path was empty, moonlight pooling harmlessly along the hedges.
Still, the feeling remained.
Why does his presence linger even when he's gone? she wondered.
She had served many nobles, endured the gazes of concubines and warriors alike—but Kael Draven's attention was different. It was not leering. Not careless.
It felt… intent.
And that frightened her more than it should have.
Kael turned sharply as soft footsteps approached.
Riven emerged from the shadows once more, his brow furrowed. "Your wolf is restless," the Beta said quietly. "The guards felt it ripple through the palace."
Kael exhaled slowly through his nose. "It's nothing."
Riven studied him, unconvinced. "You haven't reacted like this in years."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Kael spoke, voice low. "There is a woman in this palace who affects my senses. And I do not understand why."
Riven's eyes narrowed slightly. "A noble?"
"No."
"A concubine?"
"No."
A pause.
"A maid," Kael finished.
Riven stiffened. "That is… unusual."
"I know," Kael snapped, irritation flaring—not at Riven, but at himself. "My wolf should be silent. The curse ensures that. Yet when she passes… it stirs. Not with recognition. With agitation."
Riven considered this carefully. "Sometimes a curse twists instincts rather than silencing them. It may not be desire you feel, Alpha. It may be confusion."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Then why does my control weaken around her?"
Riven had no answer.
Across the palace, unseen eyes followed Lyria as she entered the servants' wing.
A shadow lingered near the pillars, watching her disappear down the corridor, lips curling slowly.
Interest had been sparked.
And interest, in a palace like this, was never harmless.
Kael returned to his chambers at last, but sleep refused him. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw dark hair catching moonlight, felt a phantom warmth where her presence had brushed too close.
His wolf growled again—low, warning, unsettled.
Whatever this was…
It was not coincidence.
And it was only beginning