MOONLIGHT SHADOWS

The moon held an ancient power over werewolves, dictating their transformations, their strength, and most profoundly, their mating bonds. A bond, once recognized, was believed to be unbreakable, a tapestry woven by fate itself. Yet, fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor, a penchant for twisting the threads of destiny into knots of pain and rejection. A rejected mate bond was a wound that never truly healed, a constant ache in the soul, a haunting reminder of what could have been. And in the rare, almost impossible, cases of rejection from an Alpha with royal blood, the sting was amplified tenfold. Rejection of a mate bond was considered a blasphemy to the Moon Goddess, a cosmic slap in the face. It fractured the very essence of a wolf, leaving them vulnerable, unstable. While rare, rejection happened, often driven by societal pressures, political ambitions, or the agonizing reality that sometimes, destined didn't equal desired.

Kael knew these facts all too well. They were etched into his mind like a brand, a constant reminder of his ill fate. To be an Omega, especially a male Omega, was to be an anomaly, a glitch in the system, a living, breathing contradiction. And to be the rejected mate of Prince Alaric… well, that was a special kind of hell.

The carriage rumbled along the cobblestone path, carrying them further away from the allied kingdom. Alaric sat opposite him, his jaw tight, his gaze fixed on the passing landscape. Kael, on the other hand, stared at his hands, twisting them in his lap until his knuckles turned white. The air crackled with unspoken tension, thick enough to choke on.

He wanted to scream, to lash out, to demand why he was being subjected to this torture. Forced to witness Alaric’s charade, his desperate attempt to find a suitable mate while their bond screamed a different truth. “I hope you enjoyed your date, your Highness?” Kael asked, his voice laced with a sarcasm he couldn’t quite suppress.

Alaric’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowed. “Must you always be so… difficult, Kael?” he sighed.

“Difficult?” Kael scoffed, finally tearing his gaze away from his hands. “I’m merely making conversation. Though, forgive me if I find it hard to be cheerful while watching the man I’m fated to be with parade around with other Omega.”

Alaric ran a hand through his hair, looking utterly exasperated. “We’ve been over this, Kael. I cannot accept you as my mate.” His voice was firm, devoid of emotion, each word a tiny shard of ice piercing Kael’s heart.

Kael bit back the retort that sprang to his lips. Arguing was pointless. He knew Alaric’s reasons – the pressure, the expectations, the sheer impossibility of their situation. It didn’t make the pain any less real.

The silence stretched, broken only by the rhythmic clatter of the horses’ hooves. Kael closed his eyes, willing himself to disappear, to become invisible. He focused on controlling his scent, keeping the scent blocker in place, a fragile barrier between him and the truth. All of it was like a band-aid on a wound that needed surgery.

The carriage finally arrived at the makeshift camp. 

“We would be spending the night here, the journey is still a little far ahead. We will continue the next morning.” Alaric stated, as if Kael didn't know that already. To him, It was with a relief that he would no longer be seeing Alaric until they both get back to their kingdom. He was about to go in when Alaric called out, “Kael”

Kael stopped and turned around “Yes, your highness?” He asked.

“I noticed you seemed to connect with Prince Aaron more than I’d expect.” He said, his face void of emotion. “I’ll appreciate it if you don’t get cozy with Royals from other kingdoms. This is for us, for Veridia.”

Kael gasped, not knowing what to say “I.. I don’t understand what you mean, your highness.” He managed to say.

“Just do not get cozy with foreign Royals, you’re just my assistant.” Alaric ended the conversation, leaving Kael outside alone.

Kael managed to find his way to his own tent and immediately slumped on his bed, tears threatening to fall once more. He let them fall, one by one, until he was sobbing uncontrollably. He hated this, he hated Alaric, he hated his life. He hated being a male Omega, he hated being rejected, he hated being Kael.

The next morning, Kael and Alaric started their journey back to Veridia. The journey was silent, filled with tension. When they got back, it was in the late hours of the night.

"See to it my chambers are prepared for the night." Alaric said curtly as they reached the palace gates.

Kael bowed stiffly. "As you wish, Your Highness."

He wanted to add, "Perhaps you'd like me to warm your bed too, Your Highness? Since I'm so readily available and clearly invisible." But he swallowed the words, the bitter taste of them familiar on his tongue.

He meticulously prepared Alaric's chambers, smoothing the velvet covers on the massive bed, stoking the fire, and ensuring the Prince's favorite calming tea was brewing. It was a thankless task, a constant reminder of the intimacy he was denied.

As he turned to leave, Alaric's voice stopped him.

"Kael."

He turned, his heart doing a nervous skip.

"The Princess… she was… amiable." Alaric said, his tone carefully neutral.

Amiable. The ultimate word of lukewarm politeness. Kael wanted to laugh. "She seemed so, Your Highness." he replied, keeping his voice even.

"Her bloodline is strong. Her kingdom is a valuable ally.” Alaric continued, his eyes fixed on some unseen point.

"Of course, Your Highness. Political stability is paramount." Kael replied neutrally. "Is there anything else you require?" he asked, eager to escape.

Alaric hesitated, his jaw tightening. "No. That will be all."

Kael bowed and slipped out of the room, the weight of unspoken words heavy on his shoulders.

Amiable. Strong bloodline. Valuable ally. Kael mocked inwardly. How utterly romantic. I'm sure the Moon Goddess is weeping with joy at such a profound connection.

Kael nodded, offering a shallow bow. He didn't bother with a "goodnight" or any other pleasantries. He simply turned and hurried towards the lower quarters, eager to escape the suffocating presence of the Prince.

He practically stumbled into his mother's small room, the familiar scent of lavender and dust doing little to soothe his frayed nerves. His mother was already asleep, her frail form curled under a thin blanket. Kael felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over him. He was so consumed by his own misery that he often forgot the burden his secret placed on his mother.

He undressed quickly, pulling on a worn nightshirt, and crawled into bed beside her. The mattress sagged under his weight, and the springs protested with a metallic groan. He laid there, staring at the ceiling, listening to his mother’s soft snores.

Sleep didn’t come easily. His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions – anger, sadness, resentment, and a sliver of hope that stubbornly refused to die. He replayed the events of the previous day, the way Alaric had looked at the omega princess, the way he had insisted Kael accompany them on their date, the prince's words to him and even the foreign Prince's unnerving words.

The foreign Prince... Aaron’s words echoed in his mind, stirring a strange mix of confusion and… was it acceptance? He had seen Kael, truly seen him, not as a Beta, not as a servant, but as an Omega. And he hadn’t been disgusted. He had been… fascinated.

Kael squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the thought. It was dangerous, foolish even, to dwell on such things. He was Alaric’s mate, whether the Prince wanted him or not. And he had a duty to his mother, a promise to protect her, even if it meant enduring a lifetime of heartbreak.

Finally, exhaustion claimed him, dragging him into a restless sleep filled with fragmented dreams of moonlit forests, piercing golden eyes, and the intoxicating scent of pine and rain.

He woke up with a jolt, a cold sweat clinging to his skin. The room was still dark, the only light filtering through the cracks in the shutters. He glanced at Elara, who was still sleeping soundly.

He slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb her, and padded towards the small window. He pushed it open, inhaling the cool night air. The moon hung high in the sky, a silver disc casting long shadows across the palace grounds.

He knew one thing for sure: this could not go on forever. Something had to break, or he would.