The difference unsettled her more than she could admit. It was steady in a way that made her ache, because it asked nothing—and because, for once, it felt terrifyingly real.
She glanced back at Kaelen. “Alarik mentioned you spoke to Solmaz.”
His mouth quirked, but she didn’t miss the tick in his jaw. “It’s a long conversation, and I doubt you’re in the mood to discuss politics right now.”
Reiya arched a brow. “I’d rather not be left in the dark about things concerning me.”
His lips twitched. “Then again, I’d expect nothing less.”
But instead of launching into whatever he’d learned, his expression softened, his gaze drifting over her face, assessing.
“But first, tell me, how are you feeling?”
The question caught her off guard. She hesitated, flexing her fingers against the sheets. “Better,” she said after a moment. “Tired, but . . . clearer.”
Kaelen nodded as if that was the answer he’d expected. “Good. You should rest more if you need it.”
She shook her head and nodded toward the window, where the sky had deepened into dusk. “It’s already this late. The Xians will worry about us.”
“We’ll return to the caravanserai soon.” He hesitated, then met hergaze. “Reiya, Solmaz mentioned you’ve been taking Heat suppression remedies.”
She nodded. “I purchased some at Vhalis Thorn before the caravan reached Zohara. It was soon after Jodhar recognized me as an Omega. I thought if I took it religiously, I could hide a little longer.”
He sat fully on the side of the bed.
“The workings of an Omega’s body remain one of the great mysteries of the nine kingdoms,” he said. “Physicians spend their entire lives trying to unravel it, yet no one truly understands why some Omegas Awaken as young as four, while others—like you—much later. Why some experience Heat several times a year, and others only once. Why suppression remedies work for some but fail for others.”
Alarik’s hand flexed briefly where it rested against her wrist. “Suppression remedies might work in a pinch, but eventually, as the body adjusts, they stop working. Also, just because they hide your Omega nature from others, they don’t spare you from the pain brought on by Heat symptoms.”
Her lips pressed together. She was afraid of that answer, but hearing it confirmed felt different—like a door closing on a belief she’d clung to for too long.
Kaelen studied her carefully before speaking again. “Rather than relying on suppression remedies, I want to suggest: rely on us.”
She blinked up at him.
“Like what happened earlier,” he said, his voice steady. “It does not always come down to lust. Oftentimes, what your body craves is simpler—the presence of an Alpha, a measure of closeness, enough to quiet the worst of it.”
His hand rose, and the back of his knuckles brushed lightly against her cheek, careful, reverent.
“Until the true Heat comes,” he murmured, voice dropping lower. “And with any luck, that’ll give us time until . . .”
He didn’t finish his words; he didn’t need to. He hoped one day, she wouldn’t simply endure their presence, their touch, their care, butchooseit. Not out of necessity, not because instinct demanded it, but because she wanted it.
Because she wantedthem—as husbands, as her bonded Alphas.
She swallowed. The bond. Before her Awakening, it had seemed like a miraculous phenomenon—something distant, almost fantastical. She hadn’t understood why anyone would want to be tied to another so irreversibly, so irrevocably.
Now, though . . .
Alarik’s thumb swept lightly over the inside of her wrist. “But the choice is yours.”
Reiya exhaled slowly, their presence around her a quiet promise. When they’d helped her through the worst of it earlier, she couldn’t deny: something within her had shifted.
She thought back to Kaelen’s words at the teahouse, the way he’d challenged her certainty that two Alphas meant twice the cage. She had resisted then, convinced that accepting anything from them would mean surrendering a part of herself. That to need them—even in something as instinctive as this—was to lose a battle she wasn’t ready to forfeit.
But lying here now, the weight of their support wrapped around her like a cocoon rather than a shackle, the prejudice unravelled.
“How long . . . does a Heat last?” she asked.
