Cracks In The Crown

Morning came slow.

Caelum hadn’t slept. His skin was hot, flushed. Every layer of clothing felt wrong. Tight. Irritating.

His stomach ached. No—throbbed.

He stood shirtless in front of the mirror, pale fingers tracing over the skin just below his navel. There was no mark. No wound. No second gland.

Yet the memory of Aric’s touch lingered like a brand. His core had responded to it. Deep. Primal. Willing.

No. This can’t be happening. I’m a king. An Alpha.

He splashed cold water on his face, but it didn’t help. His scent had changed—richer, sharper. His staff had begun avoiding eye contact. His court whispered when they thought he wasn’t listening.

And when he stepped into the council chamber, they stared.

⸻

Scene: The Royal Council

“I said,” Caelum growled, “We will not provoke the Northern clans until we know if they’ve broken the border treaty.”

The council was silent.

Advisor Ren, older and blind in one eye, cleared his throat. “Majesty… forgive me, but your scent—”

“Say another word about it and you’ll be eating through a straw,” Caelum snapped.

Everyone fell silent.

Then—soft, poised—Lys stepped forward from her seat beside the high priest.

“Perhaps a brief recess would ease the tension,” she said smoothly, hands folded in her sleeves. “The people are… concerned.”

Caelum’s jaw clenched. “Concerned about what?”

“They say you pace at night. That your scent is in flux. That… you grow restless.”

“And what do you say?” he asked, meeting her eyes.

Lys offered the faintest smile. “That evolution always begins with discomfort.”

Caelum stared her down. She didn’t flinch.

What do you know, Oracle? And why won’t you say it out loud?

⸻

Scene: Aric’s POV – A Watchful Flame

Aric sat atop the palace’s highest parapet, legs dangling over the edge, cleaning his blade.

He hadn’t slept either.

The moment he’d touched Caelum last night, he’d felt it: the shift.

Not just in scent or temperature. In frequency.

Caelum’s body was humming with new possibility. A dormant code awakening.

It was always there, Aric thought. Buried. Locked. Waiting.

He looked down at the ring of guards in the training yard below.

They didn’t trust him. They shouldn’t.

He wasn’t just a soldier. Not anymore.

Behind him, soft footsteps.

He didn’t turn. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I go where the winds carry me,” Lys said, stepping into view.

They sat in silence for a while.

Then, Lys spoke. “You touched the king.”

“You already knew that.”

“I felt it.”

Aric turned now, slowly. “You’re not just an Oracle.”

“And you’re not just a guard.”

The silence returned, thicker this time.

Then Lys said something that chilled even Aric’s blood:

“I was there the last time it happened. The first time.”

“It ended in fire.”

⸻

Scene: Later that Night – Caelum Alone

Caelum’s skin burned. His clothes were on the floor. He pressed his forehead to the cool marble wall of the royal bath, panting.

Every breath dragged heat through his body. His thighs trembled. His chest rose and fell like a beast caged. The warmth in his lower belly was unbearable now.

What is happening to me…

The door creaked.

He looked up, snarling. “Out!”

But it wasn’t a servant.

It was Aric.

And for the first time… he looked shaken.

“Your scent called me.”

“I didn’t call anyone.”

“You did. Subconsciously. Enigmas hear things others don’t.”

Caelum’s hands curled into fists.

“Leave.”

“No,” Aric said. “You’re past the early phase. If you fight this any longer, your body will go into shock.”