Kaelen settled onto the ground beside her and leaned back against the wagon, hands resting loosely on his knees. The moonlight highlighted the sharp lines of his profile, but there was a softness in his gaze when he looked at her.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
Reiya blinked. “For what?”
“For this.” He gestured vaguely at the space between them. “For taking my mind off . . . everything. The fight. The questions. The Sunborn Alpha.” He shook his head, a faint smile playing at his lips. “Even just for a moment, it’s nice to feel like myself. Not what I am . . .”
For a moment, there was only the sound of the distant crowd.
She tilted her head, studying him. There was something raw in the way he spoke, a vulnerability he rarely let slip. He lifted a hand to push his hair back, the motion drawing his sleeve higher, revealing the faint shimmer of the tattoo etched into his forearm. The intricate sunburst caught the moonlight, its iridescence shifting like rippling water.
“I saw Alarik’s tattoo today,” she said carefully. “After our lesson, I asked him about it. He told me . . . about the trial.”
Kaelen turned fully to face her, the easy light in his expression dimming just a little. “Did he?”
She hesitated, but the small, unguarded flicker in his eyes urged her forward. “He told me he took the trial at ten,” she said gently. “And you were six.”
He exhaled, shoulders loosening slightly, as if her words had unlocked something deep within him. “It’s not a cherished memory for either of us.”
“Ten already seems so young,” she murmured, shaking her head. “But six—that’s . . .” The words tangled on her tongue, a knot of indignation and empathy she couldn’t swallow. “That’s far too much for someone so small.”
His lips curved into a faint, humourless smile. “My father thought so too. I Awakened the night before my sixth birthday. He wanted to wait a few years before putting me through the Sunborn Trial, but the kingdom didn’t share his views. Having an Alpha crown prince wasn’t enough. They wanted proof that Asadia’s golden age was on the horizon.”
His gaze drifted, something sharper flashing behind it. “In the end, it wasn’t really a choice. Not for him. Not for me. When the kingdom demands proof, someone pays the cost.”
“The costyouhad to bear,” she said fiercely. “Both you and Alarik, though his burden was different.”
The lines of his face softened at the mention of his brother, fierce love breaking through. “Alarik had his own trials. His mother made sure of that. But even at our worst, we leaned on each other. We had to—no one else understood.”
“It says a lot about you both. To be pitted against each other and still hold on to each other after. Not everyone would have.”
Kaelen’s lips twitched into something bittersweet. “It wasn’t always easy. There were plenty of times the kingdom was just waiting for us to tear each other apart.”
She frowned.Waiting for them to tear each other apart?What did he mean? He didn’t explain further, and she didn’t press him, not yet.
“But we didn’t. We chose to stand together instead. Still.” His gaze flicked down to the tattoo on his forearm, his fingers brushing absently over the shimmering ink. “The trial left its mark on us both. Alarik still despises tests and competitions. He can’t even talk about it sometimes.”
And no wonder, she thought. Trials like that left scars far deeper than those inked into skin—scars that shaped how a person saw themselves and the world.
How much of Kaelen’s confidence, his charm, had been shaped by necessity rather than choice? How many times had he smiled to reassure others while carrying burdens no one could see?
She lowered her eyes to her lap. She, too, had been shaped by expectations—by the constraints of her caste, her title, her instincts. But at least her struggles had been hidden, private. His had been paraded before the world, emblazoned on his skin like a prisoner’s brand, demanded of him before he even understood what was being asked.
Her voice softened. “And you? Is the tattoo a difficult subject for you too?”
He tilted his head back slightly, looking up at the stars and letting out a sigh. She watched his throat bobbing as he swallowed several times.
“It used to be. For years, I hated it. I thought the tattoo controlled me, defined me. People saw it and thought they knew everything about me. That I was stronger, faster, better. But it wasn’t the real me, only what they expected me to be.”
He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the intricate sunburst in its entirety. “It took years before I accepted being Sunborn as part of who I am.” He looked at her and smiled. “Then, I stopped fighting it. Instead, I decide what it means. What kind of Sunborn AlphaIwant to be.”
Her attention lingered on the shimmering ink, her hand brushing absently over the bruise on her neck. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It’s not,” he agreed, his voice quieter now. “Some days, it’s harder than others. But marks don’t own us. Not this one”—he tapped hisforearm—“and notthatone either.” His eyes drifted pointedly to her neck.
Reiya’s breath hitched as he gave the bite mark his full attention, a flush creeping up her skin that had nothing to do with warmth. Her hand cupped the bruise as if trying to erase it, but the touch only brought back the memory—sharp, raw, and unrelenting.
He shifted to face her. “Tell me, do you actually believe the nonsense Jodhar spewed about the bite mark?”
