The Wolf King’s Omega
By Midnight Sparkles
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Elin woke early, before the sun rose. She dressed quietly so she wouldn’t wake the others and slipped out of the room. She already knew where Lyra would be.
Lyra stood alone in the storage room, sleeves rolled up, hair tied back. She was sorting jars of herbs and bags of grains like Ronan asked. The room smelled like dust and dried plants.
When she heard soft footsteps, Lyra looked up. Her eyes widened a little when she saw Elin.
“What are you doing here?”
Elin grinned. “Helping you. The elders are doing prayer this morning. Nobody noticed I left.”
Lyra blinked. “You could get in trouble.”
“Only if someone finds out,” Elin said proudly, lifting a basket onto the table.
Lyra didn’t smile often, but she did now. “You don’t have to help me.”
“I want to. Sorting grain all morning alone sounds boring.”
Lyra shook her head softly but didn’t argue. She handed Elin a stack of folded cloth bags.
“Then take these,” she said.
Elin began counting herbs and tying bags closed. She worked fast for someone so young. The room was quiet at first, then Elin started humming a tune.
Lyra glanced at her. “What song is that?”
“One I made up,” Elin said. “It’s terrible.”
“It is not terrible.”
Elin giggled. “Yes it is. You just don’t know music.”
Lyra rolled her eyes gently, and Elin laughed more.
Elin talked while they worked, nothing important at first. Small things. Her twin sister Alin. The noisy kitchen rooster. How she once tripped in front of a warrior and pretended she meant to kneel.
Lyra listened quietly, sometimes shaking her head, sometimes giving a soft “hmm” like she couldn’t believe some of the things Elin said.
At one point Elin whispered like sharing a secret, “You know, you look scary when you’re quiet.”
Lyra blinked. “Scary?”
“Yes,” Elin said seriously. “Like a sad ghost that might bite people.”
Lyra stared at her. Then, slowly, she let out a tiny laugh.
Elin gasped dramatically. “You laughed! I did it. I made the quiet maid laugh.”
Lyra shook her head again. “You are strange.”
“I know,” Elin said proudly. “It’s my best quality.”
They kept working like that, side by side. Counting jars. Folding cloth. Laughing softly here and there.
Lyra felt… less alone. Even if she didn’t say it.
Elin reached up to grab an old wooden box from the top shelf. “You are reading from www.mhiztaemy.com.ng” It was dark with dust and looked untouched for years. When she pulled it down, it slipped from her hands and hit the floor with a dull thud.
The lid cracked open.
Inside, folded in old cloth, lay a small silver crest. It had a royal wolf carved into it, head raised to the moon. The symbol shimmered even under dust.
Elin frowned. “What is that? It looks… important.”
Lyra stared at it. Her chest tightened for a second, though she didn’t know why. Something about it felt familiar, like a memory she couldn’t reach.
“I don’t know,” she said quietly.
Elin reached toward it, but Lyra gently put a hand over hers. “Do not touch it. This belongs to nobles. Or royalty.”
Elin pulled her hand back fast. “Why would it be hidden here?”
Before Lyra could answer, footsteps sounded in the doorway.
Ronan entered, carrying a parchment. He stopped when he saw the opened box on the floor and the crest inside. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t raise his voice.
“Where did that come from?” he asked.
Elin pointed at the shelf. “It fell when I pulled the box down.”
Ronan stepped closer, looked at the crest only for a moment, then carefully closed the lid. He lifted it and placed it higher, out of sight.
“Forget you saw it,” he said calmly. “It is not for servants to question.”
Elin nodded quickly. Lyra just lowered her gaze.
Ronan’s eyes flicked to the neatly sorted supplies, then back to the two girls. “Good work.”
Elin beamed, proud of herself. Lyra looked down again, unsure how to react.
Ronan’s voice softened just slightly. “Both of you.”
Before he could say more, hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. The door swung open and Alin appeared, face pale.
Her eyes widened when she saw Elin and Lyra together.
“Elin!” she hissed. “I told you…”
Her voice cut off when she noticed Ronan standing there. She dropped into a quick, shaky bow.
“S-sir, I didn’t know… I wasn’t…”
Ronan raised one eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”
Alin shook her head fast. “No. No problem. I… I came looking for my sister.”
Her voice trembled. She wouldn’t look at Lyra, only at the floor.
Ronan didn’t push it. “She is working. Let her finish.”
“Yes, sir,” Alin whispered.
Ronan turned to Lyra. “Continue. I will return later.”
Then he walked out.
As soon as he was gone, Alin grabbed Elin’s arm, whispering sharply, panic in her tone.
“What are you doing? You cannot be seen with her. People are talking. Do you want trouble?”
Elin pulled her arm away. “I don’t care.”
“You should,” Alin snapped, voice breaking a little.
Lyra stood silent, watching them. Alin’s fear wasn’t anger anymore, it was real worry.
“Elin, please,” Alin whispered. “Stop before it gets bad.”
Elin didn’t answer. She looked at Lyra instead.
Lyra didn’t speak either. She simply went back to folding cloth.
Elin hesitated, then stayed beside her anyway.
Alin stared at them for two seconds longer, eyes full of fear and frustration, then turned and walked out quickly.
Lyra and Elin worked in silence for a while after Alin left, and even Elin didn’t try to talk again. They folded sheets, stacked cloth and cleaned shelves.
Then the sound of light footsteps came down the hallway.
Both girls looked up at the same time.
Althea, the Queen Mother, walked past the open doorway. She wore deep blue silk, and her hair was pinned with silver. She always moved calmly, like she owned every room she stepped into.
She didn’t look inside first, she never did. Servants didn’t matter to her.
But something made her pause.
She stopped right at the door. Then, slowly, she turned her head.
Her gaze landed on Lyra.
She did not blink. She did not speak. She just stared.
Lyra froze, hands gripping the cloth in front of her. Her heart thudded hard.
Elin held her breath.
Althea’s eyes narrowed a little, searching Lyra’s face. For a moment, it felt like she was trying to remember something.
Lyra lowered her head, afraid to meet her gaze too long.
Althea’s fingers twitched at her side. Then she blinked once and straightened again.
“You. Raise your head,” she said coldly.
Lyra obeyed slowly. Their eyes met again.
Althea studied her one more second,
Then she simply turned away.
“Continue your work.”
She walked off without another word. Her steps faded down the hall, and silence filled the room again.
Elin let out a shaky breath. “She never stops for servants,” she whispered.
Lyra didn’t answer. She felt strange, heavy, unsettled, like something inside her had shifted just a little.
But she didn’t care anyways.
TBC
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