REGRET AND UNCERTAINTY

Alaric stood at a distance, his regal boots sinking slightly into the damp earth of the palace gardens. The painful sobs coming from Kael sounded too close, resonating within him like a discordant note in a symphony. He watched the mother and son, Elara's frail form wrapped protectively around Kael, their shared grief a palpable entity.

His expression was unreadable, a mask of controlled composure attempting to hide the turmoil raging within. Yesterday's anger, the visceral rejection that had spewed from his lips, now felt like ash in his mouth. He had seen Kael, truly seen him now, not a Beta servant who is actually a male Omega, not as an inconvenience, but as… himself. Kael, a werewolf, and a son to a loving mother… His fated mate.

And now, watching him crumble, Alaric no longer felt like Kael had ruined his life. He felt like he had ruined Kael's. The boy had been surviving, carving out a meager existence, cloaked in Beta anonymity. He had been doing well, all until he, the Alpha Prince, had arrived and shattered the fragile peace Kael had so painstakingly built.

How bad is it? The question echoed in his mind, a mocking refrain. He, the embodiment of societal expectations, the Prince burdened with duty, was fated to a male Omega. An Omega forced to masquerade as a Beta. The irony posed like a cruel twist of fate, a cosmic joke played at his expense. Or was it?

He shoved the thought away. It wasn't about him. Not anymore. It was about the devastation he had wrought. The horror he had etched on Kael's face with his callous words.

“Never, ever, let me smell that scent near me again.”

The words reverberated, laced with the sharp sting of regret. He had spoken from a place of fear, of societal conditioning, of ingrained prejudice. He had reacted, not reasoned. And in doing so, he had wounded Kael deeply.

‘Am I the one with bad luck?’ He entertained the thought for a fleeting moment. Was he cursed? Doomed to a life of unhappiness? Perhaps. But his bad luck, as he called it, had bled onto Kael, dragging him down into the depths of despair.

He turned away, unable to bear witness to Kael's suffering any longer. The whole palace, in it's hugeness, felt like a small space, confining him within the suffocating expectations of his birthright. He needed to escape, to find solace in the wildness, to confront the beast within.

He strode towards the bordering woods, the weight of his crown feeling heavier than ever. The forest welcomed him with its hushed whispers and earthy scent, offering a semblance of anonymity. He pushed deeper, shedding his princely garments as he went, until he stood almost naked beneath the ancient trees.

The transformation was swift, a primal surge of energy coursing through his veins. Bones shifted, muscles rearranged, and fur sprouted across his skin. The prince was gone, replaced by the magnificent wolf, his true self.

He bolted into the darkness, a grey blur against the moonlit forest floor. He ran until his lungs burned, until the physical exertion dulled the sharp edges of his guilt and regret.

Reaching a secluded clearing, he stopped beneath the silvery gaze of the full moon. He tilted his head back, the moonlight illuminating his powerful frame, and unleashed a mournful howl. A cry of anguish, a plea for understanding, a lament for a fate he couldn't comprehend.

The sound echoed through the silent woods, carrying the weight of his burden, the pain of his realization. He wasn't howling at the moon goddess for a way out, but for the strength to face what lay ahead. To confront the prejudice within himself and the kingdom he was destined to rule.

He remained there for hours, a solitary figure wrestling with his conscience. The cold seeped into his bones, but it was nothing compared to the chill that had settled in his heart.

Finally, as the first rays of dawn painted the sky, he shifted back to his human form, the transformation leaving him drained and vulnerable. He looked down at his hands, the same hands that had held power, that had signed decrees, that had, yesterday, dismissed Kael with such cruel finality.

He clenched them into fists. Internally practicing how to make up for cruelty towards Kael.

He dressed, the princely garments feeling unfamiliar, almost foreign. He had to find Kael. He had to apologize, truly apologize, for the pain he had inflicted. He needed to understand.

He returned to the palace, his steps heavy with purpose. He bypassed the usual throng of servants and courtiers, heading directly towards the lower quarters. He knew Kael would likely be avoiding him, but he wouldn't be deterred.

He found Elara tending to a small herb garden outside their modest room. She looked up, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and defiance.

"Your Highness," she bowed, her voice trembling slightly.

"Elara," he replied, inclining his head respectfully. "I need to speak with Kael."

Elara hesitated. "He's… not feeling well. He's resting."

"I understand. But it's important. Please."

Elara searched his face, as if trying to discern his intentions. Finally, she sighed. "He's inside. But be gentle with him, Your Highness. He's already broken."

Alaric's heart clenched. He stepped inside the small, sparsely furnished room. Kael was lying on a thin mattress, his back to the door. He looked smaller, more fragile than ever.

He approached cautiously, his footsteps barely audible. He knelt beside the bed, his gaze fixed on Kael's sleeping form.

"Kael?" he whispered.

Kael flinched, his body tensing. He slowly rolled over, his eyes widening in alarm when he saw Kaelen. He quickly scrambled to sit up, pulling the thin blanket around himself as if to shield himself from the prince's presence.

"Your Highness," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. "What… what are you doing here?"

Kaelen reached out, then hesitated, pulling his hand back. "I came to apologize," he said, his voice raw with sincerity. "For what I said yesterday. It was… unforgivable."

Kael stared at him, his eyes filled with disbelief. "Apologize? You're the Prince. You don't need to apologize to me."

"But I do. I was wrong, Kael. So wrong. I let fear and prejudice cloud my judgment. You don't deserve the way I treated you."

Tears welled in Kael's eyes. "It doesn't matter," he whispered, turning away. "It's not like anything can change. You're the Prince. I'm just a servant."

Kaelen reached out again, this time taking Kael's hand in his. Kael flinched, but didn't pull away.

"That's not true, Kael. Everything can change. I want it to change. I… I want to understand."