When my sire was busy with pack duties, Kael looked after me—hunting small game, preparing meals, even learning to braid my hair in different styles.
I became his little shadow.
When he trained with the other young wolves, I'd play outside the training grounds, glancing up whenever I wanted to see him.
When he studied pack laws and territory maps, I'd sit quietly beside him, dozing off or folding herbs.
Once, when my sire was away on a territory patrol, I spiked a high fever in the middle of the night.
Still just a young wolf himself, Kael carried me on his back, stumbling through the dark forest all the way to the healer's den in the main settlement.
I came through fine. He ended up with a deep gash on his foot from a sharp rock that kept him off his feet for three whole months.
I was too young to understand things. The first time my heat cycle came, I thought I was dying.
I sobbed like the world was ending. It was Kael, face burning red beneath his tan, who found the elder Omega healers and awkwardly helped me understand what was happening to my body.
Growing up, we were inseparable. Two halves of a whole.