🌖~ Moonlit Obsidian ~ 🌔 [with M-jow]

[mik3la]

Quote

“Come on,” he said gently. “It’s about an hour’s drive. You should pack a small bag with cloth, just in case.”

“Alright” he said taking a deep breath and sighing as he moved to his room and packed a few things in his bag, like shirts and pants and whatever one needed for when travelling and not long after he finished they were on the road to Asher’s pack.

 

 

The moment they arrived and the gates closed behind them, Kaito felt it. It pressed in from every direction, a low hum under his skin, like standing in the middle of a deep forest where something ancient was watched but didn't threaten. Wolves. Dozens of them. Maybe more. He couldn't see most of them, but he felt them, threads of awareness brushing against him as the car rolled forward.

His fingers curled slowly against his thigh and for a heartbeat, the old instinct flared. I don't belong here. Mage. Outsiders. Problem. Then the other presence inside him lifted his head.

(Easy.)

The wolf in him stirred with curious. Its awareness stretched outward, brushing the edges of the pack's collective presence like a cautious paw testing water.

(They are many.)

Kaito swallowed. Can you feel them?

A low, thoughtful hum answered him.

(Pack.)

Something warm and unfamiliar twisted in his chest at the sound of that word but didn’t move or said anything.

As they passed houses and lights and people, Kaito kept his gaze outward, taking everything in. Wolves walking openly. Laughing. Talking. Living. The air itself felt different—thicker, charged with scent and sound and something like belonging.

The deeper they drove in, the more Kaito felt their attention brushing past him in faint threads, curious and assessing. He kept his posture still, controlled, the way years of surviving among people had taught him.

Don't draw attention. Don't look like prey.

But as they passed houses and people, Kaito kept his gaze outward, taking everything in. Wolves walking openly. Laughing. Talking. Living. The air itself felt different, thicker, charged with scent and sound and something like belonging.

His wolf nudged him gently.

(They smell us.)
(And him.)

Asher.

Kaito glanced at him, at the steady line of his profile, the way he drove like this place already knew him down to the bone. Alpha. Home.

Mate.

The thought still made his stomach twist and he didn’t know how to understand the feeling.

When the pack house finally came into view, Kaito forgot to breathe.

It wasn't just big … it was alive . Not in the magical sense, but in the way old places held memory. The stone. The timber. The symbols worn smoothly by time and touch. This wasn't a fortress meant to keep people out. It was something that had grown, layer by layer, around those who lived inside it.

The car rolled to a stop at the base of the steps, and Kaito realized his breath had gone shallow. His heart wasn't racing but it wasn't calm either.

Before he could ground himself further, the front doors opened and a man stepped out, already smiling.

“Asher,” he called, warmth unmistakable in his voice. “Took  you long enough.”

He wasn't as tall as Asher, leaner, compact, but there was strength in the way he moved. Muscles earned through training rather than intimidation. His presence carried authority, but it wasn't heavy-handed.

This was Logan. Alpha brother.

Logan came down the steps without hesitation, clearly expecting Asher and clearly relieved to see him. He clapped a hand on Asher's shoulder in a quick, familiar gesture.

“Garret is inside and losing his mind,” he said with a grin. "We got something. A lead. You're gonna want to hear—" Then his gaze shifted and landed on Kaito.

The smile didn't disappear but it paused.

Kaito felt it instantly. The scent check.

Logan’s brows wrinkle slightly as a concern flickered through his expression.

Mage.

Kaito's stomach dropped.

Of course he smells it.

Logan straightened subtly, attention sharpening as he took a step closer—not hostile, but alert. His gaze flicked back to Asher, then returned to Kaito.

“Who … Asher, do you have anything to tell me? …” Logan started, clearly choosing his words.

Then he took a step closer and froze instantly as the air shifted. Logan’s eyes widened and frowned at the same time as confusion rolled off him in a controlled wave as he leaned in slightly, scenting again like he couldn't believe what he was registering.

“That's not possible,” Logan muttered under his breath blinking a few times then turning to Asher for some explanation.

Kaito lifted his chin before he could stop himself.

Logan's gaze snapped fully to his face now, recognition dawning almost.

“…You,” he said slowly. “You're the one from Noah's place.” The words landed like a blow. The memory surged, blood, magic, darkness, waking disoriented and terrified.

Logan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

“We found you unconscious,” he continued, eyes searching Kaito's face. "Mage signature all over the scene. We thought…." He stopped, shook his head. “We never caught this part.”

He looked back at Asher, confusing giving way to something more serious.

"Asher," Logan said quietly, "he smells like magic. And wolf. I've never—"

“I know,” Asher replied simply.

Logan stared at them both for a long second, then his posture shifted, not relaxing entirely.

“Well,” he said finally, voice careful not unkind, “that explains a hell of a lot” he sigh and then awkward silence fell upon them three for a few seconds.

It wasn't hostile but it was heavy, the kind of silence that carried a thousand unspoken calculations. He stayed still, shoulders squared, hands loose at his sides. Years of surviving as a mage had taught him how to stand when judgment hovered nearby.

Asher stood just half a step closer than before. A presence Kaito could feel like gravity at his back.

Logan’s gaze drifted from Kaito to Asher again, slower now. Studying. Measuring. The shock had faded, replaced by something sharper, responsibility.

Kaito could practically hear the thoughts turning behind Logan’s eyes.

Magic and wolf in one body.
A hybrid.
A walking complication.

Logan inhaled deeply, scenting again, not because he doubted his senses, but because he needed to understand them. His jaw tightened.

“This changes things,” Logan said quietly, more to Asher than to Kaito.

Kaito's stomach sank. He'd expected that.

Logan wasn't glaring at him. He wasn't angry. That somehow made it worse. This wasn't a personal reaction. It was a pack reaction

Kaito's wolf stirred, attentive.

(Alpha mind.)
(Protect pack.)

Logan’s gaze flicked briefly toward the pack house, toward the unseen wolves inside. Kaito followed the look instinctively, suddenly aware again of how many ears, how many instincts, were within those walls.

Some would accept this without question. Some wouldn't. Packs were built on tradition. On bloodlines. On instinct. Even the most progressive packs carried old scars, and mages were etched into werewolf history with fire and loss.

Kaito knew that history. He studied it ever since he discovered what he was and he lived in its shadow.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck slowly, a gesture that betrayed more unease than his steady posture. “You know how this will sound to some of them,” he said under his breath to Asher. "A mage walking into the pack house? With that scent?"

His eyes flicked back to Kaito cautiously.

“And if they caught the wolf part too…” He exhaled. "Some of the older wolves won't react well. Especially not Father." His tone softened, just slightly.

“I know you didn't bring him here without a reason, but still …” Logan said sighing again knowing what this might cause.

Kaito's breath caught.

Please let it be a good one, he thought, guilt curling in his chest. Please don't let this tear your pack apart.

He shifted his weight, finally speaking as the silence was becoming unbearable.

"If this causes problems," Kaito said quietly, eyes steady despite the knot in his stomach, "I can leave. I don't want to put your pack at risk." The words tasted bitter, but honest.

His wolf growled softly at the thought.

(No.)

Logan looked at him again, really looked this time. Not just the scent. Not the anomaly. The person.

“That,” he said slowly, “isn’t a decision you get to make alone.” Then he turned back to Asher, waiting. Waiting for his brother to explain why he'd brought a mage—no, a hybrid —into the heart of the pack ands why he should allow it.