I'm obsessed with Kael.
There's no pretty way to say it. No polished excuse that would make it sound better. I saw him once—just once—and I knew I was screwed. Some people call it love at first sight, others call it alpha instinct, some would write it off as lust. But none of those labels come close to what I felt in that moment. That sudden, soul-deep pull. It was like my world tilted, rearranged itself around him, and decided he was the axis now.
And he didn't even notice me.
He walked past me like I didn't exist. He didn't glance in my direction, didn't flinch or pause or react like something inside him had shifted the way it did for me. I was just another face in the crowd that night, one of many. But he—he—was the only person I could see.
He was with Cale. Laughing a little. Eyes sharp even when he smiled. His voice cut through the low thrum of music like a blade—precise, effortless. I remember how he rolled his eyes at something Cale said, lips twisting into this unimpressed little smirk that had no business being that attractive. He had that aura—the kind that didn't just draw attention but commanded it.
And I? I sat there like an idiot, drink untouched, eyes glued to every flicker of movement he made.
From that moment on, I was hooked.
I started going to that club regularly after that. I told myself it was for the atmosphere, for the music, the drinks, the vibe. Total bullshit. I don't even like clubs that much. I prefer quieter places—somewhere I can think, breathe, exist without a thousand people pressing in on all sides. But for Kael? I kept showing up.
I watched him.
From a distance.
Yeah, I know how that sounds. Call it stalking, call it creepy. I'm not proud of it. But I didn't know what else to do. I didn't have the guts to go up to him. The way he carried himself—confident, self-contained, like he didn't give a damn about the world's opinions—made me hesitate. He didn't seem to want anyone, let alone an alpha like me, in his orbit.
And maybe the worst part?
He seemed to like Cale.
He smiled around him, joked with him, let his guard down in a way he didn't with anyone else. And I hated how easily the jealousy crept in, how it sank its claws into my chest. I even started to wonder if they were a thing—Kael and Cale. Wouldn't have surprised me. Cale was the only one who ever got past those defenses.
Still, even if they weren't, I had no chance.
Because Kael—Kael hated alphas.
It wasn't subtle. He didn't just prefer not to deal with them. He actively rejected them, turned them away with a glare and a scoff, like they disgusted him. I'd seen him shoot down at least three in the span of one week. No hesitation. No games. Just cold, merciless dismissal.
I used to wonder why. What had happened to make him that way? I mean, I get it. Some alphas are complete bastards. Entitled, aggressive, manipulative. The kind of people who think the world owes them submission. I'd met enough of them to understand why someone like Kael would want nothing to do with us.
But still… it made approaching him feel impossible.
I never intended to step into his world. Not really. I was content to admire from afar, to build this quiet, pathetic obsession in my head. Until that night.
The night everything changed.
He was drunk. Not dangerously so, but enough to lose a bit of his edge. Enough to stumble a little. To lean into Cale a bit more than usual. Enough to become a target.
Two alphas noticed. The wrong kind.
They followed him toward the back hallway near the restrooms. I saw them. Watched the way they looked at him—predatory. Like they were circling prey. Something snapped inside me then. A primal, feral instinct surged up like wildfire in my chest.
I followed.
I told myself not to interfere. Told myself I had no right. But when I turned the corner and saw one of them gripping Kael's wrist, pushing him against the wall like he owned him?
That was it.
I didn't think. I didn't speak. I just moved.
They backed off the second they saw me. I don't know if it was my height, my build, or the sheer rage on my face—but they knew. I would've torn them apart if they didn't.
Kael barely spared me a glance.
He pulled his wrist free, muttered something under his breath, and walked away like nothing had happened. Like I was invisible. Like I hadn't just saved him from being assaulted.
I stood there, breathing hard, hands trembling with leftover fury.
And still… I went back to that club the next week.
And the next.
Until I saw him again—not at the club this time, but at a business party. Polished, professional, untouchable.
He was Cale's assistant.
Which honestly pissed me off. Assistant? As if someone like Kael could be summed up by a title that small. He moved through that room like he owned it. Every word he spoke was sharp, intelligent, measured. He wasn't there to charm or please—he was there to conquer.
And just my luck—I had to step in again.
Another group of drunk assholes are trying to corner him. I didn't hesitate this time either. Just placed myself between them and made it very clear what would happen if they didn't walk away.
Second time I saved him.
What did I get instead?
Attitude.
He glared at me. Told me he didn't need saving. Like I was some knight in shining armor trying to win points. Like I hadn't just kept someone's hands off of him again.
And yet—I didn't regret it.
Because even when he was scowling at me, even when he looked like he wanted to slap me for daring to interfere, I still wanted him.
Still wanted more.
It wasn't just obsession anymore.
It was something deeper. Rawer. Darker.
I didn't want to possess him like some trophy. I wanted to protect him. Learn every scar he hid, every piece of pain he refused to show the world. I wanted to be the arms he fell into when he finally couldn't hold it all in anymore.
But he wasn't ready for that.
Not yet.
So for now, I'll keep standing in the background. I'll save him when he won't ask. I'll fight off every bastard who looks at him the wrong way.
And maybe one day—just maybe—he'll look back.
And see me.
The day Kael walked into my office with Cale, I swear time stopped.
He looked… different. Not like the glittering, guarded version of himself I'd seen in clubs or parties. He was wearing a crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled just enough to reveal the faint ink curled along his forearm, jaw sharp with tension. His eyes swept the room, cold and cutting, like he was already preparing for war.
And still—my first thought?
He's here.
In my space. In my world.
I didn't even hesitate. Didn't second-guess. Cale came with some pitch about supporting the Evren project, and I said yes before the words even fully left his mouth. I told myself it was business, that I believed in the cause, that it made sense politically.
Bullshit.
I would've signed my soul over in blood if Kael had been the one asking.
He's going to be the death of me. Truly.
But right now—right now—he's in my arms.
That sharp-tongued, fire-eyed omega I've been obsessed with for months is curled against me like the world has broken him. His body trembles, shoulders hitching with silent sobs he doesn't want to release, like he's holding onto the last shred of control with bleeding fingernails.
And I—I'm just standing here, frozen.
I didn't mean for this to happen.
I was teasing him, maybe pushing a little too much, hoping to crack that icy exterior. I never expected him to fall apart in my arms. Never expected this. Kael, who never lets anyone close, who never shows weakness, is crying—crying—into my chest like he can't hold it back anymore.
And I swear to god it's breaking me.
I don't know what to do.
All my strength, my power, my reputation… none of it means a damn thing right now. I can take down corporations, blackmail politicians, bend entire markets with a single phone call—but I can't fix this. I can't erase whatever pain is eating him alive from the inside out.
I don't even know why he's crying.
And that kills me the most.
So I do the only thing I can do—I wrap my jacket around him, shielding him like it's enough. Like it'll make him feel safe. Like it can protect him from whatever darkness he's battling in silence.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice barely audible against the weight of his silence. "I'm sorry I can't fix this. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I don't even know how."
His breathing is ragged. Shaky. Like each inhale costs him something.
Then slowly, carefully, he lifts his head and peels off my jacket.
"Thanks."
Just one word.
Soft. So soft I almost miss it.
But not cold.
Not distant.
And just like that—I'm fucking ruined.
That one word, that one crack in his steel-forged armor, undoes me completely. It shatters everything I thought I could control. Because in that single syllable, I hear it—what he doesn't say.
The exhaustion.
The loneliness.
The hollow ache of someone who's been strong for too long.
I wanted him before. Desired him in ways I've never felt for anyone. But now?
Now I need him.
All of him.
The pride. The fury. The sharp, unforgiving wit. The careful walls. The moments like this—raw and unguarded and real. I want the pieces no one else has ever seen. I want to be the one he turns to when the weight becomes too much.
"Do you wanna go home?" I ask, forcing my voice to stay level, steady. Like I'm not falling apart inside. Like I'm not screaming at the idea that he might say no.
He pauses.
Takes a long, careful breath. His fingers twitch at his sides, and I can see it—the war behind those beautiful, exhausted eyes. The one he fights every day. Between pride and desperation. Between trust and self-preservation.
I want to reach for him.
But I don't.
He has to come to me.
Because I know—Kael isn't just afraid of needing someone. He's terrified of being needed in return. Of being bound. Claimed. Owned.
But god, if he only knew—I don't want to own him.
I want to honor him.
I want to be the place he can fall apart and still be whole.
My fists curl at my sides, nails digging into my palms. Because I see it now. The cracks. The tremble. The haunted look that flashes in his eyes when he thinks no one is watching.
Who did this to you, Kael?
And even though I know he won't talk about it—even though I know better—I can't stop my thoughts from circling back to that name.
Vaelora.
When he said it earlier, his voice turned to ice. Like just saying it burned his tongue. Like the syllables were laced with poison.
Dorian fucking Vaelora.
That name is wrapped in blood and betrayal and pain. And Kael—Kael doesn't just hate Dorian.
He fears him.
Which is worse.
Kael, who walks into rooms full of powerful alphas without flinching. Kael, who can gut a man with words alone. He is afraid of Dorian.
And that?
That makes me see red.
My jaw locks so tight it aches. I grip the steering wheel like I'm trying to snap it in half, knuckles white and straining.
Dorian Vaelora.
I don't know what he was to Kael—an ex, a captor, a fucking monster in expensive clothing—but I know one thing:
He's done.
He doesn't know it yet, but his time is up.
Because?
Kael is mine.
He doesn't have to say it. Doesn't have to look at me that way or reach for my hand or whisper my name. I felt it when he let me hold him tonight. When he let my jacket rest around his shoulders like a shield.
He let me see him.
The truth. The vulnerability. The wound . He hides behind that perfect posture and carefully chosen silence.
And now that I've seen it?
I'll never let anyone touch him again.
Ever.
Not even in memory.
Not even in whispers.
I pull into my driveway and kill the engine. The night is quiet, the stars cruelly peaceful above me. Kael's asleep in the passenger seat now, head resting against the window, face soft and heartbreakingly beautiful in the low light.
I should let him rest.
Should carry him inside and tuck him into bed and leave him alone.
But instead, I pull out my phone.
I scroll to that name.
Dorian Vaelora.
I stare at it for a long moment.
My thumb hovers over the call button.
Not tonight.
But soon.
Very fucking soon.
Because if he so much as breathed wrong around Kael…
If he left even a fraction of the damage I suspect…
Then I'll make him wish he never bore that name. I'll tear down everything he built. I'll salt the ruins and light them on fire. I'll make sure every shadow he steps into carries my promise:
Touch what's mine, and I won't just end you—I'll erase every piece of your existence like you never dared breathe in my world.
Not for Kael's forgiveness.
Not for his gratitude.
Not even for his love.
Because this—this—was never about being loved back.
This is devotion.