Chapter 34 The One Who Destroys

He nodded once, slow and deliberate. “They sensed what Bloodmoon was preparing. That we would strike first—to stop them before their prophecy wrapped every pack in chains. My mother—” his breath faltered, “—she was the mind behind it. The strategist. Not my father. She saw every move before it happened, every weakness before it was used against us. Without her… Bloodmoon’s fangs were blunted.”

I stared at him, the weight of his words pressing against my chest. “You’re saying my pack killed her.”

His voice dropped, low and jagged. “Not just killed. Assassinated. Struck her down with an ancient Silverfang weapon—a blade steeped in curses, sharp enough to pierce any Alpha’s power. One strike. That’s all it took. They ended her before the war even began.”

My breath caught. The room tilted faintly, and for a heartbeat I could almost see it—Kael as a boy, standing in the ruins of Bloodmoon’s keep, his father’s fury rising while his mother’s body lay still. A child carved into something unrecognizable by loss and rage.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “That can’t be true. My parents—my people—they weren’t murderers. They weren’t—”

“Don’t lie to yourself, Elara.”

Kael’s voice thundered, though his eyes burned not with anger, but pain. “Silverfangs were cunning. They called it honor, but what they craved was power. And they wielded it without mercy.”

He took a slow step forward, his shadow merging with mine. “I lost my mother to them. The only softness I ever knew. And after that…” His lips curled into a bitter snarl. “…all I had left was my father’s brutality. Blood and war. That’s the world Silverfangs left me with.”

I pressed a trembling hand to the wall, my pulse racing. My chest ached with the collision of two truths—what I’d been taught, and what I was hearing now.

“Do you see, Elara?” Kael’s voice softened, the thunder fading into something raw. “This isn’t as simple as love or hate. Not as simple as me slaughtering your people. Blood was spilled long before that night. Blood that shaped me into the monster you see.”

For a moment, I swore I saw it—

Not the Alpha. Not the killer. But a boy, small and broken, standing beneath a sky burning red.

Silence stretched. His words sank deep, tangling with my thoughts.

And my mind drifted—back to the inn at Hidden Keep. To the pages of the Codex Nocturna. The blood oath of the three ancient packs. The prophecy of the Lone Wolf. The night of slaughter that birthed the curse now running through Kael’s veins.

Everything fit.

Kael hadn’t lied.

“Elara?” His voice broke through my haze, rough and uncertain. “You don’t have to believe me completely. But I have no reason left to hide the truth.”

I lifted my gaze slowly. His crimson eyes met mine—eyes I had once feared, now holding something unbearably human.

“Everything I read in the Codex…” I whispered. “It was all about that night. About the fall of Silverfangs. The blood that stained our ancestors’ vow. And your curse.”

Kael lowered his head slightly, as if bearing centuries of weight.

“I never wanted it,” he said softly. “The curse… it wasn’t just for me. It bound all of Bloodmoon. And I’ve lived ever since with a sin that wasn’t mine.”

“And your mother,” I murmured, my voice gentler than I meant it to be. “She was killed… by my pack.”

Kael’s gaze rose, quiet and raw. For the first time, the pain wasn’t hidden.

“Yes,” he said. “And from that night on, I lost every reason to believe in goodness.”

The fire by the cave wall crackled faintly, its glow flickering across Kael’s face—half shadow, half light.

I swallowed hard. “But maybe today,” I whispered, “is the first time I see who you really are, Kael.”

He looked at me for a long moment. “And who am I in your eyes, Elara?” he asked, his voice barely more than a breath.

I hesitated. “Not the monster they say you are. And not the one I thought you were, either.”

Kael’s gaze softened—danger and sorrow blending into something fragile. “Careful with your words,” he said bitterly. “A monster like me might start believing he’s worth saving.”

I didn’t flinch. “Maybe you are.”

The silence that followed was alive. The wind brushed through the curtains, the morning light turned gold across the wooden floor. The world beyond our breaths seemed distant—irrelevant.

Kael stood near the door, his shoulders tense, his eyes stormed with everything he couldn’t say.

“You shouldn’t say that,” he murmured. “You should hate me.”

“I do,” I said quietly.

That made him look at me.

“I’ve hated you for years. For what happened to my pack. For every night I spent wishing I could forget your name. For every scar your war left behind.”

Kael took a step closer. My heartbeat faltered.

“But?” he asked, voice low, almost a growl.

I swallowed. “But hate doesn’t change what’s here now.”

He stopped right before me, close enough for the warmth of him to seep into my skin. The air thickened. I could feel his Alpha aura wrapping around me—wild, suffocating, magnetic.

His gaze flicked briefly to my lips, then back to my eyes. “That hate,” he said softly, “keep it, Elara. You’ll need it to survive me.”

“I’ve lived with it long enough,” I whispered. “It’s already part of me.”

Kael’s jaw tensed. For a moment, I thought he would walk away. But instead, he reached out—his fingers brushed a loose strand of my hair aside. The touch was barely there, almost reverent. His hand trembled.

“You shouldn’t let me close,” he murmured.

“Then stop coming closer,” I breathed.

He froze. Something flickered in his eyes—half warning, half hunger. “You think I can?”

The silence between us pulsed, heavy and electric. Sunlight spilled over his shoulders, glinting on dark strands of hair. For a fleeting instant, he looked almost human.

But he wasn’t.

And still, part of me didn’t care.

Kael leaned forward, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Elara.”

“Neither do you,” I whispered.

The space between us vanished, a heartbeat away from ruin. I felt the pull—ancient, dangerous, undeniable. My heart twisted between the two wolves who defined my fate, the one who burned my world to ash, and the one who would always fight to protect it.

Kael’s voice broke through, rough and low. “If Dorian knew what you’re feeling right now…”

I stiffened. The sound of his name was like a slap of cold air.

Kael’s eyes darkened. “He’d try to save you from me. He always will.”

He stepped back slowly, the tension still crackling between us. But his gaze lingered—memorizing the light on my face, the tremor in my breath.

“Tell me you hate me,” he said, voice cracking, almost pleading.

“I already did.”

“Then say it again,” he whispered.

But I couldn’t.

Kael exhaled, low and broken, something wild flickering beneath his calm. Then he turned toward the door, the air still humming with everything left unspoken.

Before he left, he said without looking back, “One day, you’ll have to choose which wolf you trust. The one who destroys, or the one who saves.”

And then he was gone.

The door closed softly behind him, and I sat there—frozen in the silence that followed. The scent of pine and smoke still clung to the air.

My hands trembled. My heart was at war with itself.

Because for the first time since the fall of Silverfangs, I wasn’t sure which one Kael truly was.

The monster.

The savior.

Or something far more dangerous—the one I could love.