[House Vaelric Manor — Later]
The iron gates of House Vaelric slowly opened. Kael stepped through the courtyard, his black cloak swaying gently behind him. The manor stood as proudly as it always had. Knights trained on the eastern grounds.
Servants hurried through the corridors. Everything looked...normal. As though the empire had never lost its emperor and as though Kael himself had never become the Shadow King’s mate.
The grand entrance doors opened before he reached them. Waiting there...stood the elderly butler, edric.
The old man bowed deeply, one hand resting respectfully over his chest. "Welcome home, Young Master."
Kael gave a slight nod. "Where is Father?"
Edric straightened. "His Grace departed for the eastern warehouses shortly after noon."
Kael frowned slightly. "The warehouses?"
"Yes, Young Master, there was an urgent report concerning military supplies. His Grace deemed it necessary to inspect the matter personally."
Kael nodded thoughtfully. "I see."
Edric hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Your ceremonial attire has also been prepared for the coming-of-age ceremony of Lord Rovan Voss, the second son of House Voss. The invitations were delivered this morning."
Kael remained silent for a heartbeat before nodding once. "Very well."
Edric bowed again. "If there is anything else Your Lordship requires, please summon me." "Thank you, Edric."
Without another word...Kael walked toward the upper floor.
***
[Kael’s Chamber — Moments Later]
The chamber remained exactly as he had left it, silent and untouched. Folded neatly upon the bed rested the ceremonial robes prepared for House Voss’s banquet.
Black robes embroidered with crimson threads. Kael looked at them only briefly, then...he walked past them, straight toward the bathing chamber.
The door closed quietly behind him as warm steam drifted through the marble room. Without a word... Kael loosened the belt around his waist, and his cloak slipped onto the floor.
When the last piece of clothing fell away...his naked reflection appeared within the towering mirror.
Silence.
Kael slowly raised his eyes; the man staring back at him no longer resembled the proud Alpha who had entered Nhar’Zhul Veyth a year ago.
His shoulders...were covered with countless thin scars, some old and some fresh. Across his chest...faint crimson scratches crossed one another as though made by desperate fingers.
Near his heart...rested the black crescent mark, beautiful, silent, and unchanging. His body had become leaner, his face slightly paler, and even his eyes...carried a weariness that no amount of sleep had ever managed to erase.
Kael slowly reached toward the mark; his fingertips brushed against it gently and warmly.
His reflection stared back at him as his voice echoed softly within the empty chamber.
"It’s strange; we never shared a single night together." His thumb slowly traced the edge of the crescent. "We never spoke as mates, and yet...why can’t I erase you from my thoughts?"
Kael let out a tired sigh before running a hand through his damp black hair, and he stepped into the enormous marble bath.
SPLAAASH...
Warm water embraced his exhausted body for the first time that day...his muscles slowly relaxed, his breathing steadied, and his eyes closed.
Silence.
A single heartbeat passed, then another.
And then—
HOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL—!!!!
Kael’s eyes flew open; the howl was deafening, not one voice, but hundreds, maybe thousands. A chorus of grief.
The sound ripped through his skull like shattered glass; another howl answered. Longer and more broken, filled with unbearable despair.
HOOOOOOOWWWWWWWLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL—!!!!
Suddenly the bathroom disappeared. Darkness swallowed everything. Kael found himself standing upon blood-soaked earth.
The scent of death filled the air around him... Ashkarath wolves knelt beside tiny lifeless bodies, small pups, their fur still soft.
Tiny paws stained with blood, some mothers desperately nudged their children again and again and again. As though refusing to believe they would never wake.
One enormous black wolf lowered his head over three tiny bodies; his trembling nose gently brushed each pup, waiting, begging, and hoping, but...they never moved.
A heartbreaking howl tore from his throat.
HOOOOOOOWWWWWLLLLLLLLLLL—!!!!
Another Ashkarath mother collapsed over a shattered egg. Fragments of the shell lay scattered through the blood. Inside...the tiny body had never even been given the chance to breathe.
She cried, not with tears but with howls, as if begging those gods to answer. What did they deserve to witness this?
Endless heartbreaking howls.
One after another, the entire Ashkarath territory echoed with mourning. A mourning that had never ended and a mourning that Kael had heard...every single night for an entire year.
"No..." Kael whispered as the vision only became clearer. "Please..."
An old Ashkarath wolf silently gathered broken eggshells into his trembling paws; a young father carried the tiny corpse of his son across the battlefield; children called for parents who would never answer.
Parents searched desperately for children who would never return, for every cry, every howl, and every scream buried itself deeper into Kael’s soul.
HOOOOOOOWWWWWLLLLLLLLLLL—!!!!
The sound became unbearable.
"HAAA—!!"
Kael lurched violently inside the bathtub; water exploded over the marble floor.
"Huff...Huff...HAAAAA...!"
His entire body trembled uncontrollably; his face had turned deathly pale as he curled into himself within the bath. As though trying to escape voices that existed only inside his own mind.
His breathing became ragged, and his fingernails dug into his shoulders, harder and harder.
SCRRRTCH...
Fresh crimson lines appeared beneath his own nails; he didn’t even notice. The howls drowned out everything; they always did, every night for an entire year.
Every time he closed his eyes, every time exhaustion finally allowed him to rest...the Ashkarath mourned once more, and Kael was forced to witness their grief.
Again...and again, and again, until sleep itself became something he had learned to fear.
"Haaa...Huff...Haaa..."
Kael staggered to his feet inside the bath, his breathing uneven, his hands trembling uncontrollably. The warm water that had once soothed him now felt suffocating.
He couldn’t stay and he couldn’t breathe. He climbed out of the bathtub, nearly stumbling as water dripped from his exhausted body onto the cold marble floor.
His vision blurred, the room swayed, and his heartbeat pounded violently against his ribs. Then—
THUD!!
His knees gave out and his body crashed onto the marble floor. The impact echoed through the empty bathing chamber.
Yet he remained there, motionless, and water pooled beneath him. His damp black hair clung to his face as his chest rose and fell in frantic, uneven breaths.
"Huff...haaa..."
His entire body trembled from terror.
HOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWLLLLLLLLL—!!
The howl came again, louder and closer. A mother’s cry, raw, broken, and endless. The cries of children echoed through the chamber, only frightened and confused. Calling for parents who would never answer.
Kael squeezed his eyes shut until they hurt as the visions only became more vivid; he saw tiny paws stained with blood and broken eggs scattered across blackened earth.
Ashkarath mothers are desperately gathering shattered shells into their trembling arms...rocking them as though they still held living children.
The scent of blood became so overwhelming that Kael felt it filling his lungs; he couldn’t escape, no matter how many times he opened his eyes...the mourning remained. It had become part of him.
A curse, a punishment, or perhaps...a memory that refused to let its witness forget.
"HAAAAAA...!"
Kael’s breath hitched violently; his fingers dug into the marble floor so hard that several nails cracked, blood seeped beneath them, and his entire body curled inward as though he wished he could disappear.
"I...I wasn’t there...I didn’t kill them..."
The howls answered, louder and crueler. As if the dead themselves refused to hear excuses, tears finally escaped his tightly shut eyes; they simply slid silently across his face before disappearing onto the cold stone beneath him.
For an entire year...he had endured this alone because how could he explain...that every night...he died beside children who had never been given the chance to live?
His lips trembled; his voice shattered into a whisper.
"...Please..."
He no longer knew who he was speaking to: the spirits, or the Shadow King, or the endless darkness itself.
"Just...kill me..." His fingers slowly loosened against the bloodstained marble. "I beg you...please...just kill me already."
The chamber fell silent; only the sound of dripping water remained.
***
[House Vaelric Manor — Later That Night]
The moon had risen high above House Vaelric; the grand manor shimmered beneath silver light, its stone corridors quiet as servants prepared for the evening festivities at House Voss.
Slow...measured footsteps echoed down the staircase.
Kael descended in formal attire.
The black ceremonial robes of House Vaelric rested perfectly upon his shoulders, crimson embroidery tracing the edges like flowing blood. His sword hung neatly at his waist, his posture as straight as ever.
To anyone else, he looked every bit the perfect heir. Only those who knew him...would notice the truth. His complexion had grown noticeably paler. Dark shadows rested beneath his amber eyes.
Even standing upright seemed to demand effort, and every step carried the weight of sleepless nights.
As he reached the final stair—
"Leaving already?"
A familiar voice stopped him. Kael turned, and Grand Duke Lior stood near the entrance hall, still dressed in his court attire, as though he had only just returned from the Imperial Palace.
"...Father."
Lior slowly approached; his sharp amber eyes carefully studied his son. Then Lior quietly asked,
"Did you fail to sleep again?"
Kael forced a faint smile. "I am well, Father."
Lior’s expression did not change. "You’ve never been able to lie to me."
Silence.
Kael lowered his gaze, and Grand Duke Lior spoke again. "Are the visions becoming clearer?"
Kael remained quiet for several moments. When he finally answered... his voice was barely above a whisper. "Not clearer, more vivid. As though...I’m no longer watching them. I’m standing among them."
The entrance hall became deathly silent. Kael swallowed heavily.
"I can hear every howl. I can see every broken nest. Every shattered egg, the blood...it’s everywhere. I watch mothers searching for children they’ll never find, and I watch fathers burying pups who never opened their eyes."
His fingers slowly tightened.
"And now not every night, but every time I relax...they cry again."
Grand Duke Lior’s hand trembled almost imperceptibly; for one year...he had watched his son slowly disappear. He had summoned the finest physicians, the greatest spirit healers, and the high priests.
Even wandering shamans from beyond the empire had not been able to help. Lior reached into the sleeve of his cloak; he withdrew a small silk pouch.
"I found another remedy." His voice remained steady despite the desperation hidden beneath it. "The priests of the southern mountains claim these herbs calm cursed dreams; they may lessen the burden..."
Kael gently pushed the pouch back toward him. "Father."
His voice carried no frustration, only exhaustion.
"He cursed me. No herb, no medicine, and no spirit can erase the judgment of a deity." His amber eyes slowly met his father’s.
"So...please stop exhausting yourself."
Grand Duke Lior stood frozen, and Kael bowed respectfully. "I shall take my leave."
Without another word...he walked toward the enormous entrance doors. The servants immediately opened them, and cold night air swept into the manor. Kael disappeared into the darkness.
The doors slowly closed behind him, and silence remained. Edric, who had stood respectfully several steps away throughout the conversation, finally stepped forward.
The old butler bowed.
"Your Grace..."
Lior remained motionless. Edric hesitated before speaking. "If this continues, Lord Kael may not survive another year."
Silence.
Lior’s jaw slowly tightened as his hands slowly clench into fists.
"No. I refuse to bury my son. I have already lost my daughter and wife. I will not sacrifice my son."
Edric looked at him in surprise. "Your Grace..."
Lior slowly turned toward the window overlooking the distant northern mountains. Beyond them...hidden from every map...lay Nhar’Zhul Veyth.
His voice became cold and resolute. "If the Shadow King refuses to leave his forest...then I shall give him a reason."
Edric’s eyes widened. "My Grace...what exactly are you planning?"
A long silence followed.
Then Grand Duke Lior answered without turning around.
"The next lunar moon...the Deity of Darkness will have no choice but to acknowledge the bond he himself created. I will force him to stand before my son."
Silence.
No anger remained upon his face, only the unwavering determination...of a father who had decided to challenge even a god.
"No matter what price I must pay..." Lior’s voice echoed quietly through the hall. "Lytharion will accept Kael Vaelric as his rightful mate."
The night outside remained silent. As though even the moon...had paused to witness a mortal declaring war against a deity.