The Wolf King’s Omega
By Midnight Sparkles
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The guards waited for her to speak, still shaken from what they had just seen. Lyra slowly stood, brushing the broken glass from her dress.
“No one must know about this,” she said. “Not the Alpha. Not anyone.”
One of the guards hesitated. “My lady, this was an attack. It’s our duty to report—”
“You will do as I say,” Lyra cut in. Her eyes met his, sharp and clear despite how pale she looked. “Fix the window before morning. No one must find out.”
The guards exchanged a quick look, then nodded.
“Yes, my lady.”
Lyra waited until they began cleaning before she slipped out of the room. Her bare feet were silent against the cold stone floor. The hall was empty.
Her heart was heavy. The voice’s words still echoed in her head.
He killed your family.
Every time she blinked, she saw it again, the fire, the screams, Kael’s eyes burning silver in the dark. But then she remembered his touch, the way he looked at her when no one was around, and that confusion grew until she could hardly breathe.
She pushed open the side door that led to the courtyard. The night air hit her face like ice. The moon was full and bright, washing the castle in silver light.
Lyra walked across the courtyard, not caring where she was going. She just needed to move. Her thoughts tangled too much when she stood still.
“Why him?” she whispered to the air. “Why did it have to be him?”
Her voice broke. She didn’t realize she was crying until she tasted salt on her lips.
Somewhere in the trees beyond the wall, an owl called out, then silence.
She stopped near the garden steps, gripping the railing as her knees weakened. Everything inside her felt wrong, her heart beating too fast, her chest tight, her head filled with guilt and longing that shouldn’t exist together.
Behind her, a soft sound, footsteps, slow and careful.
“Lyra?” a voice called gently.
She turned. Ronan stood in the shadows, his training cloak still on, his hair damp with sweat. He must have been out late again.
“Ronan,” she said quietly, quickly wiping her tears. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, stepping closer. His eyes softened when he saw her face. “You’ve been crying.”
“It’s nothing,” she said quickly. “Just… couldn’t sleep.”
He didn’t believe her, but he didn’t push. Instead, he took a deep breath and said, “If something’s wrong, you can tell me. You don’t have to hold it in.”
She gave a small, tired smile. “Thank you. But I can’t.”
Ronan’s jaw tensed slightly, like he wanted to argue but didn’t. “He doesn’t deserve to see you like this,” he muttered.
Lyra frowned. “Who?”
He met her eyes. “Kael. I see the way you look at him. The way he looks at you. And I see what it’s doing to you.”
Her heart skipped. “Ronan, don’t…”
“I’m not saying it to hurt you,” he interrupted softly. “But you’re changing because of him. And not in a good way.”
Lyra looked down, her hands gripping the railing again. “Maybe I already changed a long time ago.”
Ronan stepped closer, close enough that his warmth brushed against her cold skin. “If you ever need someone who actually sees you, I’m right here.”
She looked up at him. His eyes were kind, but there was something deeper there, something she didn’t want to see right now. Something that would only make things harder.
“I know,” she whispered.
He gave a faint nod, hesitated, then turned to leave.
“Ronan,” she called quietly.
He looked back.
“Thank you,” she said.
He nodded once, then walked away into the night, disappearing behind the stone arches.
Lyra stood there alone, staring up at the moon. The mark on her palm burned faintly, glowing under the moonlight like it was alive.
She covered it quickly, heart racing.
The bond was stirring again. And deep inside her, that voice whispered one last thing before fading into silence.
“Love him, and it will destroy you both.”
Lyra closed her eyes, a single tear slipping down her cheek.
She didn’t know if it was too late already.
***
Kael walked through the palace halls just after dawn, the sky outside painted in pale gray. He hadn’t slept much.
As he turned a corner near Lyra’s chambers, he spotted two guards carrying out broken glass in covered cloths.
He stopped. “What happened here?”
The guards froze, faces tightening.
“Alpha,” one stammered, bowing quickly. “Just… a small repair, my lord. Nothing serious.”
Kael’s eyes narrowed. “Broken glass?”
The younger guard swallowed. “A window, sir. It cracked during the night. We’re fixing it now.”
Kael glanced at the cloth again. The shards were too sharp, too uneven, like something had shattered violently. He could tell they were hiding something.
“Did Lady Lyra see it?” he asked.
The guards hesitated too long before answering. “Yes, my lord. She… instructed us to fix it before morning.”
Kael’s jaw tightened. “Where is she now?”
“In the garden, my lord.”
He didn’t wait another second.
The Garden
Lyra stood by the fountain, dressed in a soft cream gown. Her hair was loose, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion. She was staring into the water, lost in thought, when Kael’s voice came from behind her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She turned sharply, startled. “Kael?”
He walked closer. “The window in your room. Broken. Guards working before sunrise. What happened?”
Lyra looked down. “It was nothing. The wind…”
“Don’t lie to me.” His tone wasn’t angry, but firm enough to make her fall silent. “Something attacked, didn’t it?”
Lyra hesitated. “I told them not to worry you.”
“Worry me?” Kael’s brows drew together. “You were attacked in your room and you thought keeping it from me was a good idea?”
“I didn’t want to cause trouble,” she said quietly.
He stepped closer until he was right in front of her. “You are my trouble, Lyra. That’s the problem.”
Her eyes lifted to his.
“I can handle myself,” she said after a moment.
Kael shook his head slightly. “You shouldn’t have to.”
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She stiffened at his touch, not because she didn’t want it, but because it made her feel too much. The memories from last night rushed back, the voice, the fear, the guilt.
He noticed the faint tremor in her hand. “You’re shaking.”
“I didn’t sleep,” she whispered.
Kael’s expression softened. “Then rest. I’ll have guards stationed outside your door tonight.”
“I said it’s fine,” she protested, taking a step back.
“Lyra.” His tone turned low again. “You’re safe because I make sure you’re safe. That’s not something you can decide alone.”
Her jaw clenched. “You sound just like the man who destroyed my home.”
The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Silence followed, sharp and heavy.
Kael’s expression froze. He took a slow breath. “Lyra…”
“I didn’t mean…”
“Yes, you did,” he said quietly. “And you’re right. I can’t change what I did.”
She looked away, tears threatening but not falling. “Then why does it hurt that I don’t hate you anymore?”
Kael’s voice was low. “Because hate is easy. This isn’t.”
He reached for her hand again, but she pulled it back gently.
“I don’t know what to feel,” she admitted. “Every time I see you, I remember what you did. But when I look away, I miss you. It’s wrong.”
Kael swallowed hard. “It’s real.”
She shook her head. “It can’t be.”
Before either of them could speak again, a voice called from across the garden.
“Alpha!”
A soldier ran up, bowing. “There’s a messenger from the Northern Border. It’s urgent.”
Kael turned his head, jaw tight again. Duty always seemed to come between them. He looked back at Lyra.
“We’re not done,” he said quietly.
Lyra’s voice trembled. “We never are.”
He hesitated, then turned and walked off toward the palace.
Lyra stayed by the fountain, watching him leave. The wind stirred her hair. Her reflection in the water rippled.
And somewhere deep inside her mind, that voice whispered again.
“Love him, and you will destroy everything that’s left.”
Lyra’s hand closed into a fist over her mark. She didn’t know if she could stop anymore.
***
Kael strode through the palace corridors toward the council chamber, the messenger following close behind.
“Speak,” Kael ordered.
The young wolf bowed low. “Alpha, the Northern Border was breached at dawn. Scouts say a small group entered from the woods. They attacked one of our patrols and vanished into the trees.”
Kael’s face darkened. “Which pack?”
“We don’t know, my lord. No rogue. No scent trail strong enough to track.”
Kael stopped at the entrance to the council hall. “Send Ronan and ten of our best men. No one crosses our land unnoticed, I will join them later.”
“Yes, Alpha.” The messenger hurried away.
Kael pushed open the doors and stepped inside. His mother, and several elders were already seated. They looked up as he entered.
“More trouble?” Althea asked, her tone calm.
“Border breach,” Kael replied shortly. “It might be nothing, but I won’t risk it.”
Althea sighed softly. “You’ve had too many distractions lately. You can’t afford weakness, Kael.”
He met her gaze. “I know my duties, Mother.”
“I hope you remember them,” she said quietly. “Before your heart costs you your crown.”
Kael didn’t answer. He turned and left before anyone could say more.
Lyra’s Room
Lyra sat at her dressing table, staring into the mirror without really seeing herself. The morning light spilled across her face, but her reflection looked pale, distant.
The night’s memories kept replaying: the wolf, the attack, the voice. Her stomach tightened each time. She touched her arm and found faint marks where the creature’s claws had grazed her skin.
She should have told Kael.
She should have said something.
But that voice in her head… she didn’t want to believe it was real.
Lyra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re fine,” she whispered to herself. “It’s gone.”
Except it wasn’t.
The room seemed to shift slightly, the air thicker, colder.
“You told them nothing.”
Her eyes flew open. “No,” she whispered. “Not again.”
The voice was clearer this time, like it was standing right behind her.
“You protect him even now. After what he did.”
Lyra shook her head. “I’m not protecting him. I just…”
“You just what?” The voice dripped with scorn. “Love him?”
Her throat tightened. “I don’t…”
“You are weak,” it hissed. “You forget your mother’s scream. Your brother’s blood. You forget the flames. Do you want me to remind you?”
Her reflection in the mirror flickered, for a second, she didn’t see herself but a young girl, covered in soot, standing in the ashes of her pack’s home.
Lyra gasped and stumbled back, knocking over a candle.
“Stop it!” she cried.
The voice only laughed. “You cannot run from what you are. You are the blood of the fallen. You are vengeance.”
Lyra pressed her hands to her head. “Get out of my mind!”
The air grew heavy again, and her mark, the one glowing faintly under her skin, began to burn, hot enough to make her wince.
She fell to her knees, breathing hard. “Please,” she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Please stop.”
“You will stop when you remember your purpose,” the voice said. “The bond is a chain. Break it, or it will break you.”
Then silence.
Lyra stayed on the floor, trembling. Her breathing came in sharp, uneven gasps. Slowly, she raised her head toward the mirror again. Her reflection was normal, pale, frightened, but hers.
She whispered to herself, voice shaking, “I’m not vengeance.”
TBC
