As tradition dictated, Solthar’s temple stood beside it—goddess and god, protectors of Omegas and Alphas, never more than a stone’s throw apart. A row of kiosks lined the path leading to the temples, offering flowers, woven charms, and small tokens of devotion meant to be set aflame at the altars.
Though it was late, a few vendors remained, their quiet presence lending an air of stillness rather than commerce, as if they too recognized the sanctity of this hour.
Kaelen stepped forward, exchanging a few murmured words with a vendor before returning with three small bouquets of moonflowers—Luneth’s beloved bloom.
Together, they ascended the stone steps, their footsteps hushed against the temple floor. Reiya approached the offering bowl at the altar, its polished bronze rim catching the candlelight. She knelt, placing her moonflowers inside as Kaelen and Alarik did the same. Shelit the dried herbs beneath the offerings, and the flowers curled in the rising flames, their fragrant smoke lifting into the air.
She watched the fire crackle, embers winking in the air.
Her relationship with Luneth had always been uncertain—more duty than devotion, especially in the six months after her Awakening. The goddess had felt distant then, silent in the face of her turmoil.
Yet, despite her doubts, the goddess had guided her when the path was unclear, protected her when she was alone. She’d never know whether surviving the ocean with her wrists bound was chance or fate—but it had brought herhere.
To this moment.
They all rose to their feet. Kaelen and Alarik watched as she reached into her cloak pocket. Her heart thudded an erratic rhythm as her fingers found the bracelets.
It was unusual—unseemly, even—for an Omega to be the one initiating the first gesture, the first vow. But in her heart, she knew this was the right thing to do.
Here, in this temple, with Luneth as her witness.
She withdrew the bracelets—woven from their threads: cerulean, forest green, and ochre—and turned to face them. At the end of each braid, a small flower had been carefully knotted into place, a reminder of the little blue flower Kaelen had picked for her the day they reunited.
“I made these for you,” she said quietly. “For us.”
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The firelight flickered between them, gilding their cheekbones, brightening the flecks of gold in their eyes. Kaelen’s expression shifted—something reverent softening the usual mischief. Alarik stood utterly still, as if afraid the moment might dissolve if he so much as shifted a finger.
Then Kaelen stepped forward, fingers brushing her palm.
“A stargazer,” he murmured at last, his voice low, almost like wonder.
“To remind us where we started. And what we’re still reaching for.”
She had worried, as she shaped the delicate threads, that the flower’s form might be lost—that the meaning might go unnoticed. But her Alphas understood immediately.
“For true north,” Alarik said, his eyes meeting hers. “And true love.”
She nodded, her throat tight. “One day, we’ll stand before the priest and priestess, before our families and our people, and declare what already exists between us. But I don’t need an audience to make this vow.”
She placed one bracelet in each of their palms, closing their fingers around the braided cord.
“I give you these not out of duty, not because it is expected, but because Ichooseyou. I love you—both of you—not as halves of a whole, but as the two who complete me, and each other.”
She took a deep breath. “This is my promise. Not of perfection, nor of ease, but the certainty of standing beside you as you’ve stood beside me. Of love and acceptance, now and forever.”
A charged stillness settled between them. Reverent. Certain. The weight of their stares pressed into her chest,the moment carving itself into her memory.
“One day, wewillbe married in front of the whole kingdom,” Kaelen agreed, his voice rough. He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against her knuckles. “But this is the moment you become our wife and Omega.”
He paused, his grip firming slightly. “And when your Heat arrives . . .”
He didn’t finish the words, but she understood.
Alarik held out his wrist. “Allow us the honour.”
With steady fingers, she fastened the knot, securing the braid against his skin, then turned to Kaelen, who extended his arm without hesitation.
Then, together, they tied hers in place, their hands brushing, lingering—sealing their vow in this quiet intimacy.
