He shifted slightly, settling her into a more comfortable position. The tension in his shoulders eased as she rested her head against his chest. He adjusted the blanket around them, the soft rustle of fabric blending with the crackling fire.
“When we were children,” he began, “we used to take turns taming wild horses. It was a test of patience—to prove we weren’t their enemies, but their companions for life.”
A faint chuckle escaped him. “Kaelen always picked the most difficult ones—the ones no one could break. He took more falls than I could count, came back with bruises, cracked ribs—but he never gave up.”
Reiya listened, the tightness in her chest lightening a touch.
“Then, there was Shahram. A devil when we found him. A stallion born to the desert winds—wild, untamed, unwilling to bow. No one could get close without being thrown into the dirt. The stablemasters said he was a lost cause.”
A smile curled her lips. “Let me guess. Kaelen took that as a challenge.”
His chest rumbled beneath her ear as he chuckled. “He spent weeks outside Shahram’s pen, just sitting there. Talking to him, feedinghim by hand, letting the stallion set the pace. It drove our father mad. Said he was wasting time, told him to pick a more suitable horse.”
Her smile deepened, already knowing how this tale ended. “But he didn’t.”
“Of course not. He already chose—even if Shahram didn’t choose him yet.” Alarik exhaled, a fierce fondness in his voice. “The first time he tried to ride the horse, Shahram nearly trampled him. He spent a whole day in bed with a broken arm and a bruised ego before his Sunborn blood cured him.”
“That sounds like Kaelen.”
Alarik chuckled. “It does, doesn’t it?” His gaze softened. “Took months, but one day, Shahram let him on his back.” He turned to her, steady, certain. “That’s how I know he’ll survive this. He’ll continue fighting for what matters. He won’t give up now, not when we’ve only just begun.”
She swallowed hard. The image of Kaelen—bleeding, poisoned, but still pushing forward despite the fall, steadied the turmoil inside her.
He’d come back. He always did.
Alarik drew her closer, and she rested her face against his shoulder. In the quiet, his solid presence felt like something rare—honest and unguarded. The silence between them wasn’t heavy; it was steadying. For a while, neither of them moved. Just being beside him brought a calm she hadn’t realized she needed. His breathing was slow and even, and she let herself match it, one pull at a time.
Slowly, she lifted her head, the brush of her hair whispering against his jaw. Shadows had softened the sharpness of his features. His gaze met hers—open, searching—and for a moment, nothing else existed.
“Alarik,” she began, voice barely above a whisper. His eyes caught the firelight and made it amber, softening in silent encouragement. She rested her palm against his chest. “Earlier, when I danced with Kaelen, he mentioned an Omega you both loved.”
His body tensed, fingers faltering against her back, but he didn’t pull away.
She felt the hesitation ripple through him, and for a heartbeat, she feared he might shut her out again. But his warmth stayed, steady beneath her hands.
“Annaïs,” he said.
She kept her voice gentle. “Will you . . . tell me about her?”
For a moment, she thought he might refuse. His jaw tensed, and he shifted his gaze to the fire.
“She’s the High Chancellor’s daughter. Beautiful. Graceful. Charming. And I was foolish enough to think those things meant goodness.” His lips curved faintly—something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I would’ve done anything for her, and she knew it.”
Reiya stayed silent, waiting.
“When I asked her to be mine, she told me she’d already promised herself to someone else. Said she was fond of me, but she wanted more—a queen’s life, not the title of the Lesser Princess.”
He looked at her then, and there was nothing guarded in his gaze. “What I didn’t know was that she’d ensnared Kaelen, too—just as deliberately.”
She gasped. “Neither of you realized?”
Alarik shook his head. Yet, there was no bitterness she’d expected from someone betrayed. For once, he seemed . . . content with his past, as though finally, he was able to leave it behind. “She said she liked the secrecy—that it made things feel more real, more exciting. She asked me to keep our courtship quiet, said it was for our sake. I didn’t question it.”
He exhaled, the words heavy. “No doubt she told Kaelen something just as convincing. And like fools, we both believed her.”
Anger flared sharp and hot in Reiya’s chest. “Did you confront her?”
“I did. I gave her a choice—tell Kaelen the truth, or I would. She thought I wouldn’t dare. That I loved her too much to ruin her dream.” He looked away, his voice dropping low. “She never understood that I loved my brothertoo. I couldn’t let him walk blindly into a life built on lies.”
