Reiya’s fingers tightened in his tunic. “And when you told him . . . what happened?”
He exhaled slowly. “The day their betrothal was announced, I told him everything. Kaelen confronted her. Annaïs wept before the court, claimed I was jealous. That I wanted to sabotage his happiness.” Hegave a soft, humourless laugh. “And the court believed her, of course. Why wouldn’t they? I was just the Tazahriv. The Lesser Prince. The bastard.”
Reiya’s chest tightened, fury flaring sharp and swift. “How could she?” she said, voice low. “To play you both like that—how could anyone be so cruel?”
The desert breeze tugged at her sleeves, but the chill didn’t touch the heat rising within. She too had trusted someone who spoke gently, promised loyalty, made her feel chosen—only to realize, too late, it had all been a mask. But even Castiel hadn’t split his affections between two people.
At least, not that she knew of.
He exhaled, fingers flexing against his knee. “I couldn’t bear it. The looks, the whispers . . . the way even those who knew the truth pretended they didn’t. So I left. Wandered the desert until I found Vey’tar Oasis and the Féraveli festival. I needed distance. I needed to become something more than the shadow she cast over me.”
“And Kaelen followed you.”
Alarik nodded, jaw tightening. “He saw through her lies. Through all of it. He left her and came after me.” His eyes flickered. “At the oasis, we made a vow—to stand by each other, no matter what. To never let anyone come between us again.”
And thus, the pact was born.
She leaned into him, her cheek brushing his shoulder, attuned to the steady cadence of his breath beneath the fabric.
She turned slightly, their faces now barely apart in the firelight. “What she did . . . it didn’t break you. It made you both stronger. Especially together.”
Something in him loosened then. The hard line of his shoulders softened, and a faint, almost reluctant smile ghosted across his lips.
“Together,” he agreed, as if the word held more truth now than it ever had.
Warmth settled between them, quiet but undeniable. She’d always seen him as unshakable—the one who bore burdens in silence, who met the world with unwavering control. But tonight, she sawhim. Not just his strength, but the man beneath it. The onewho’d made impossible choices, who’d sacrificed pride for loyalty, who’d been content in the background until love made him want more.
Her fingers curled lightly against his tunic, the fabric rough beneath her touch. Annaïs’s betrayal was more than a wound from his past—it had shaped both brothers, reforging their bond through fire.
How ironic, she thought, that if Annaïs had been honest, she might’ve truly won them both.
That thought gnawed at her. If the queen’s crown was her goal, why seduce both brothers separately? Why not focus solely on Kaelen, the heir? Why risk everything by toying with Alarik at the same time?
She tucked the questions away. Perhaps, in the end, the past had been a mercy. What felt like betrayal had freed them from a union built on lies, rather than chaining them to it.
Then Alarik spoke, his voice low and thoughtful. “I must confess,” he murmured, shifting his arm lower around her waist. His gaze searched hers. “When we found you . . . I wasn’t sure if I could let myself love you fully. Not because I didn’t feel it, but because I feared you might not be able to love us both. That I’d always be . . . second.”
She pulled away so she could stare into his eyes. “Why would you think that?”
A wry smile flickered at his lips. “Because I’ve spent my entire life in Kaelen’s shadow. I’ve accepted it, never resented it. He shines—always has. And people . . . They look past me to see him.” He hesitated, voice quieter now. “It never mattered. Until you.”
She inhaled sharply. She wanted to tell him she’d never seen him that way—but words alone wouldn’t erase a lifetime of standing in the background.
“I’ve seen the way Kaelen looks at you. The way you look at him. The ease between you. And I wondered . . . could I ever have that?” His hand found hers, pressing it over his heart. “Would I always be the one left in the dark?”
Her heart clenched painfully. She’d always seen Alarik as unwavering, the pillar of quiet strength. To hear his doubts laid bare made her want to wrap herself around him, shield him from the insecurities weighing him down.
She reached up, pressing a finger against his lips, silencing his next words before they could diminish him further.
“You are no less than Kaelen,” she whispered, voice trembling with conviction. “You both hold equal places in my heart. You’ve never been in his shadow, Alarik. Not to me.”
She held his gaze, willing him to see the truth.
“Where Kaelen burns bright and fierce, you are the steady light guiding me through the dark. Without you, there’d be no balance. I need you just as much as I need him.”
The tension in his shoulders eased, his expression softening in a way she’d never seen before. He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her lips.
“Kaelen calls you ‘Sáel.’ Brightheart. It suits you.” His voice was quiet, reverent. “But I want to call you‘Ketra.’Little Flame. The one that never goes out. The one that keeps me going.”
