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Arc 1 – Omegaverse: The Hunter and the Omega Prince
Day 9 – The Capital Envoys Arrive
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Morning in the Cabin
The snow had softened overnight, leaving the forest draped in a pale golden light.
Inside, the cabin smelled faintly of cedar and simmering broth. Kyle sat at the small table, wrapped in an oversized cream wool sweater that reached halfway down his thighs. His hair, freshly washed, had been brushed into loose, silken waves — strands falling into his eyes every time he leaned forward to sip from his steaming cup.
His cheeks were flushed from lingering fever, making his pale skin look even more delicate.
"You're not eating enough," Aldric chided, setting down a plate of soft bread.
"I am," Kyle mumbled around the rim of his cup, though his bite-sized nibbles said otherwise.
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The Wolf's Watch
Outside, the wolf sat at the tree line — its massive frame blending with the shadows of the pines.
Every twitch of Kyle's fingers, every flutter of his lashes, drew its attention.
When Kyle tilted his head back to laugh softly at something Torren said, the wolf's ears pricked forward.
Its tail flicked once, slow, deliberate.
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Hoofbeats on Snow
The sound came faint at first — rhythmic, metallic — growing louder until even Kyle stopped mid-sip.
Torren was already at the window, eyes narrowing. "Riders. Eight of them. Crest of the capital."
Kyle tilted his head, curious. "Crest?"
Eira glanced up from the hearth, voice level. "They're here for you."
The cup in Kyle's hands wobbled. "Me?"
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The Envoys Enter
When the door opened, a gust of cold air swept in along with the capital envoys. They wore deep navy cloaks lined with white fur, boots polished to mirror shine. Snow clung to their shoulders in glittering specks.
At the front was Lord Soren — tall, silver-haired, eyes as sharp as drawn steel. Behind him trailed two knights in gleaming armor, three attendants burdened with travel satchels, and a medic in a green-trimmed cloak.
"Kyle of House Darvent," Soren intoned. "His Majesty commands your return to the capital."
Kyle blinked, confusion clouding his gaze. "Uh… I'm… warm here."
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The Wolf's Interruption
Before anyone could reply, a low, guttural sound rolled from outside.
The wolf had moved closer, its shadow stretching across the snow like a dark tide. Golden eyes fixed on Soren, unblinking.
One of the knights reached for his weapon, but Aldric's hand shot out in warning. "Don't," he said. "You'll start something you can't end."
The wolf's lips curled slightly — not quite a snarl, but enough to make the air in the cabin heavy.
Kyle gripped the edge of his sweater. His voice was soft, but trembled. "It doesn't like them…"
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Political Threads
Soren's gaze flicked to Kyle, then to the wolf.
"That creature's fixation is unnatural," he said. "You cannot remain in its territory."
Eira stepped between them. "He's still recovering."
"And I'm not ready to leave yet," Kyle added quickly, voice carrying a faint childish stubbornness.
Soren's jaw tightened. "The longer you stay, the harder it will be to untangle you from… whatever this is."
The wolf's tail gave a single, deliberate sweep in the snow. Its message was clear: There will be no untangling.
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Evening Unease
That night, the cabin felt too full — strangers' voices mixing with the familiar creak of the wood and the soft crackle of the fire.
Kyle retreated to his bed early, curling beneath the thick blankets, clutching a pillow to his chest.
From the corner of the room, the wolf's golden gaze glimmered faintly through the frost-covered window.
Kyle buried his face into the pillow, his mind caught between an odd sense of safety and a deeper, growing fear.
It's still watching.
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