Kazeke's What?

"Your scent," Alpha Shadow murmured, his voice a low growl that vibrated against the nape of my neck, "it's like a siren call, Amina. Driving me to the brink of madness."

The memory of our earlier encounter flashed in my mind, the heat of it coiling within me. I could still feel the imprint of his touch, branding me with a desire I dared not fully acknowledge.

"Shadow," I whispered, caught betwee³n chastisement and the thrill of his accusation. His breath was hot on my skin, a stark contrast to the cooler air of the dining hall.

He chuckled—a sound that seemed to resonate through my very bones—before guiding me forward with a hand at the small of my back. The sea of wolves parted for their alpha, granting us passage to the heart of the feasting area.

As we approached the table, I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer abundance laid out before us. Roasted meats glistening with juices, mounds of steaming vegetables, and bowls of ripe fruit stood alongside freshly baked loaves of bread. It was a feast fit for royalty, and yet here it was, prepared for the pack.

"Watch them," Shadow said, his voice laced with pride.

I did. With each passing second, the room transformed into a whirlwind of activity. Wolves descended upon the food with a ferocity that bordered on reverence, powerful jaws tearing and rending, hands moving with a speed that blurred. It was a display of their primal nature, raw and unapologetic.

Within minutes, what could have fed a small city dwindled to nothing more than picked-clean bones and empty platters. The efficiency of their consumption was both fascinating and unnerving, a testament to their unity and strength as a pack—and a pointed reminder of the life I was stepping into.

The dining hall quivered with a sudden surge of jubilation, its walls barely containing the collective exhalation of relief and joy. A burst of cold air swept through as the doors flung open, ushering in the search party, their fur still dusted with frost. In their midst, like precious cargo, were the children—each one accounted for, each one miraculously unharmed.

"Safe! They're all safe!" The cheer rippled through the ranks, a tide of gratitude washing over every face turned toward the young ones now scrambling into the waiting embrace of their families.

My heart swelled at the sight, the fear that had clenched it so tightly unraveling with every tearful reunion. I felt Shadow's presence behind me, his warmth a silent reassurance. "They did well," he murmured, approval rich in his voice.

But amidst the laughter and tears, a solitary figure broke from the group, striding toward us with unmistakable pride. His chest was puffed out as if he carried more than just the triumph of the rescue.

"Alpha," he began, his eyes alight with a dangerous gleam. "We encountered one of the hunters on our way back. He won't be troubling anyone again."

My stomach dropped, the words snuffing out the spark of relief. Regret coiled within me, bitter and sharp. The hunter’s life, extinguished by necessity or vengeance—it mattered little to those who saw only threat and enemy. Yet, the weight of his death pressed upon me, a somber reminder that peace often bore steep costs.

Shadow's hand found mine, a subtle squeeze anchoring me amid the swirling emotions. “Every action we take is for the protection of our own,” he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “Remember that, Amina.”

I nodded, trying to swallow past the lump forming in my throat. As the pack celebrated around us, I couldn’t shake the unease that clung to my skin, an invisible shroud that no amount of joy could dispel.

The room erupted in a chorus of howls and cheers, a wave of elation washing over the pack as the news spread among them. The air vibrated with their collective delight; it was a palpable force that seemed to reverberate through the very walls of the dining hall. Fur bristled with excitement, eyes sparked with shared triumph, and for a moment, I could almost forget the shadow that loomed at the edges of my consciousness.

"Did you hear, Amina?" a voice boomed next to me, one of the older wolves whose name escaped me in the haze of my own thoughts. "We've rid ourselves of another threat! This calls for a celebration!" His grin was wide, revealing a row of gleaming teeth, and his eyes danced with the fervor of victory.

"Indeed," I managed to reply, my voice sounding distant to my own ears. The smile I mustered felt brittle on my lips, threatening to shatter with each pulse of my racing heart.

It was then that a name broke through the cacophony, drifting towards me like a death knell amidst the revelry. "Kazeke... It was Kazeke we took down." My breath hitched, the sound of the hunter's name slicing through me sharper than any claw.

I knew that name. I had whispered it under a cloak of secrecy, a desperate bid to protect what I held dear. But now, it was a specter that haunted me, a ghost conjured by my own unwitting betrayal. Panic coiled in my chest, a serpent squeezing tighter with each beat of my heart.

As the pack rejoiced around me, a cold sweat broke across my skin. They didn't understand. They couldn't know how deeply entangled my fate was with the man who now lay slain by their hands. Kazeke—whose presence I had revealed, whose threat I thought I had measured. But I was wrong, so terribly wrong. And the cost of that error was written in blood that now stained my conscience.

"Are you not pleased, Amina?" The elder wolf's brow furrowed, his jubilant demeanor faltering as he caught a glimpse of the turmoil etched on my face.

"Of course," I lied, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. "It's just... overwhelming."

"Understandable," he nodded sagely, mistaking my horror for awe. But I was alone in my dread, an island amidst a sea of festivity, grappling with the knowledge that I was the catalyst for a tragedy masquerading as triumph.

The pack's elation was a cacophony that vibrated through the walls, but within me, the chords of joy were severed, leaving only the hollow echo of guilt. I drifted from the table like a specter, my feet barely touching the ground as I sought refuge in the shadows of the hallway.

"Easy, Amina," Alpha Shadow's voice rumbled through the din, grounding me back to the moment. His large hands settled on my shoulders, and I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin even through the fabric of my dress. "You're pale. What is it?"

His concern was a balm, though it could not wash away the stain of responsibility I felt for Kazeke's death. "It's nothing," I murmured, attempting to pull away, but his grip was gentle yet unyielding.

"Look at me." The command was soft, threaded with an empathy that made me lift my eyes to meet his. In them, I saw not just the alpha, but the man—my mate—who had pledged to stand by my side in all things. "Whatever burdens you, you do not carry alone."

"I—" My voice broke, the words trapped by the lump in my throat. How could I confess that my fears had led to bloodshed? But there was no need. Shadow's gaze told me he already knew.

"Kazeke's fate was sealed by his own choices," he said firmly, his thumb brushing against the back of my hand in a soothing motion. "You did what you thought necessary to protect your pack, our family. Do not let his shadow darken your heart."

I nodded, not fully convinced but grateful for his attempt to console me. As much as I wanted to lean into his strength, I knew I needed to face this regret on my own terms, to find solace in solitude.