She turned just enough to see him at the edge of the crowd. His stance was deceptively relaxed, arms loose at his sides. But his gaze—dark, quiet, burning—was locked onto the mercenary with unwavering intent.
Jodhar didn’t release her. If anything, his grip tightened as he turned, his smirk widening. “And what will you do about it?”
Alarik didn’t move closer, he didn’t need to. He simply stood there, his presence stretching between them like a drawn bowstring, taut with quiet menace.
“She’s not yours to touch,” he said, his voice quieter now, but somehow more dangerous for it. “Let her go.”
The air in the caravanserai shifted as all eyes turned toward them. Jodhar wavered, just for a flicker of a second.
And Reiya knew, in that moment, the Alpha brute wouldn’t win.
His sneer deepened as he yanked her forward, grip tightening until a dull ache spread through her wrist. She bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to flinch, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
The energy around them crackled in an instant.
Alarik moved, swift and silent, his hand clamping around Jodhar’swrist with unyielding force. A sharp creak of bone filled the clearing, silencing the onlookers. Jodhar’s smirk faltered, his expression tightening as Alarik’s grip turned ironclad.
“Do not make the mistake of thinking I’d lose sleep over snapping a bone or two.” Alarik’s voice carried a lethal weight. His expression remained impassive, carved from stone, but those golden eyes shone with the chill of a blade just before it struck.
His fingers flexed, slow and merciless. Jodhar winced.
The air roared with tension, every breath held in anticipation. The onlookers shifted, waiting for the moment it would tip from warning to violence. Finally, with a muttered curse, Jodhar released her wrist and wrenched his hand free. She pulled hers back, kneading the sore muscles.
The mercenary stepped back but didn’t retreat. His smirk returned, forced and brittle, as if willing his bravado to remain intact.
“You’re aware I’ve marked her, aren’t you?” His voice carried over the crowd, loud enough to ensure everyone heard. He gestured toward her, his smirk widening. “Look at her neck.”
The weight of his words dropped into her stomach, but she refused to let them crush her. She squared her shoulders, her voice slicing clean through the murmurs.
“By force,” she said firmly. “You bit my neck without permission or invitation.”
Jodhar barked out a laugh, sharp and grating. His amusement was a mockery, a taunt wrapped in the shape of a grin. The crowd stirred uneasily, shifting, whispering. Somewhere among them, she spotted Xian Jun, his mouth flattened into an angry line, and Elder Tasim, wringing his hands but doing nothing.
Low and measured, Alarik’s voice was like a blade drawn but not yet swung. “Mark or not, a forced claim holds no weight.” His dark gaze pinned Jodhar in place. “Your actions are nothing but a coward’s attempt to assert dominance where it’s neither wanted nor deserved.” A beat of silence, thick with warning. “Touch her again, and you won’t live to see another day.”
Jodhar spat, a splatter of saliva landing near Alarik’s boots. “Youcall yourself an Alpha, but you don’t even understand the simplest truth.”
His gaze flicked back to Reiya, dark brows arching, vile smile widening. “The strong take, baby bird. The weak are prey for the powerful. But don’t worry—you’ll come to appreciate it. Evencraveit.”
Reiya’s stomach twisted, disgust coiling inside her. But beneath it, something fiercer burned. She lifted her chin, meeting his stare with steel in her spine.
“Strength isn’t defined by taking from others—something you’ll never understand.”
Jodhar chuckled, low and guttural, like he relished her disgust. “You can claw, spit, deny it all you want,” he murmured, stepping in close. “But I caught the truth in your scent. Thick. Heady. Dripping with need.”
He bent lower, voice dropping to a rasp meant only for her. “You were slick for me, little Omega. And no amount of shame will change that. Your body cried for it—louder than you ever did.”
Heat crawled up her spine, shame clawing its way into her throat like a living thing. His words were vile, twisted, but what cut deeper was the betrayal of her own body in that moment. The flicker of instinct she had no control over.
But that wasn’t real desire.
Not like what she’d felt with Kaelen and Alarik.
Not even close.
With the Asadian princes, there’d been no force, no cruelty. When she’d burned with fever and desperation, even if knowing she’d have no strength or will to refuse, they hadn’t taken. They had only given—steady hands, whispered reassurances, warmth surrounding her like a shield.
Comfort, not control.
