At twenty, he confessed his feelings. His scent had always called to mine—being together felt like the most natural thing in the world.
At our coming-of-age ceremony, he proposed a mating bond.
He asked me to wait three years—just until he'd built enough pack power for a proper mating feast.
I told him I didn't care about rank or territory. He said whatever other she-wolves had, I deserved too.
I waited three years. What I got was him recognizing another's scent.
After his training was complete, Kael chose to build his own pack influence. My sire gave him warriors, resources, and sanctuary—every bit of power he'd accumulated over his lifetime.
Raven Duskveil was a low-rank attendant who'd joined Kael's growing faction.
She'd clawed her way out of the mountain outposts through sheer grit. Kael said looking at her was like looking at his younger self.
That was why he'd taken such special care of her.
Right up until the night before our mating ceremony—when I caught them tangled together in the den we'd prepared for our bonded life.