Fearing the pact felt foolish now—after everything they’d endured,the idea of choosing one brother over the other wasn’t just impossible. It was unthinkable.
How could she choose between the sun and the moon, when both were essential to life? When both mattered—one fierce and brilliant, the other steady and constant?
She didn’t know when she had chosen themboth—only that she had.
And she would do so again and again.
Her hands trembled slightly as she reached out, threading her fingers through theirs. She felt the warmth of their palms, the strength of their hold—steady, grounding,hers.
“No more choosing,” she agreed softly, her voice steady despite the emotion swelling in her chest.
Kaelen exhaled, a slow, aching breath, his fingers tightening around hers.
She glanced at Alarik, whose eyes had shifted from Kaelen to her. His fingers curled around hers, his grip hesitant at first—like he was afraid of what it meant.
But then, he held on, squeezing harder.
When his gaze lifted, she saw it all: the man behind the walls, the strength built from shadow, the unwavering devotion he had carried in silence. And in that moment, she wondered how she’d ever mistaken this bond for a cage, when it had always been the thing ready to set her free.
Alarik’s lips parted, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, as though something had been unlocked within him, the faintest smile broke through—real, unburdened, warm.
“No more choosing,” he murmured, voice thick.
His smile deepened as his gaze lingered on her, and for the first time, she saw hope there—a fragile but growing light. It mirrored the one blooming in her own chest, a promise that this, whatever they were building, was stronger than the forces that had once held them apart.
They’d spent so long being afraid—of their instincts, of their pasts, of this thread pulling them together.
But there was no fear in this. Only certainty. Only them.
Together, they werewhole.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
REIYANA
They stayed and watched Kaelen until his breathing evened out, his body surrendering to slumber. The faint flicker of his Sunborn tattoo had steadied now, its glow subtle but reassuring.
Then, to let him rest undisturbed, they stepped outside. The chaos had faded, but it left something behind—a quiet unease. A few guards still patrolled the outskirts, their watchful eyes scanning the horizon.
Alarik knelt behind the family’s wagon, coaxing a small flame to life. The sparks caught, and soon a steady fire crackled between them, chasing away the night’s lingering chill. He gestured her to join him, and she sank onto the ground beside him, pulling a blanket tightly around her shoulders.
For a moment, they sat in silence, the only sounds the gentle pop of burning wood and the whisper of wind brushing over the dunes. Above them, the stars stretched vast and endless, scattered across the sky like a million tiny promises of peace.
“We’ll let Kaelen rest before we depart,” he said—voice even, but she caught the exhaustion in it. “Jodhar’s men were wounded. They’ll need time to recover. They went west, so we’ll go east,take the lesser-known paths. With enough distance and the cover of darkness, we might outrun them.”
She pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “How far is Asadia?”
“If we leave before dawn,” he replied, eyes fixed on the fire, “we’ll reach Mezerin’s gates by sunset.”
Her gaze flicked toward the wagon where Kaelen lay sleeping. “Can he make it?”
Alarik’s jaw tightened as he followed her gaze, then turned back to the fire. “If the journey stays uneventful, yes.” A muscle ticked in his cheek. “But if Jodhar and his men catch up to us. If they ambush us . . .”
His fists clenched, knuckles white against the firelight.
“I’ll get us home,” he vowed. “No matter what.”
A beat of silence stretched between them before he exhaled, lifting an arm in quiet invitation. She didn’t hesitate. Leaning into him, she pressed her side against his, drawn to his warmth.
