No priest, no witnesses.
The thought of marrying Castiel in secret had once perturbed her. It had felt like surrender. But this—this moment, with them—she felt no regret.
Only certainty. Only rightness.
Kaelen’s fingers brushed over the bracelet resting against her wrist,his smile slow and sure. “I’ll love you with every breath, every day I’m fortunate enough to have you, Sáel. And if the gods get jealous and steal me away—well, I’ll find my way back to you, across stars or shadows. That, I swear. You’ll not be rid of me, in this world or the next.”
Alarik’s grip around her hand tightened, anchoring. “I’ve never been a man of easy words,” he murmured, his voice raw at the edges, “but understand this, Ketra—what I give you, I give wholly. My heart, my sword, my soul. Whatever I am, it stands with you—in light or shadow, in peace or ruin. You will never face this world alone.”
Warmth suffused her, a tremor blooming in her chest. She hadn’t known how deeply she’d hungered for those words—not until they settled over her, stitching together every frayed edge inside her. Heat pricked her eyes, fierce and aching.
Any weight she carried felt lighter, not because it had lessened—but because they were lifting itwithher.
Then, Kaelen’s smile deepened, a familiar glint breaking the solemnity. “Now that you’ve given us your gift, it’s only fair we give you ours.”
Reiya arched a brow. “I thought Shivanar was the gift.”
His fingers laced with hers, warm and mischievous. “There’s something else,” he said, his grin sparking a flutter in her chest. “Come.”
Chapter Forty-Five
REIYANA
Shivanar was unlike any horse she’d ever ridden—powerful yet impossibly smooth, every motion fluid as water. There was no hesitation in her gait, no fumbling for balance as they raced across the desert. Pure muscle and grace, she responded to the slightest shift of Reiya’s body with ease.
Shivanar wasn’t just carrying her; she wasattunedto her.
The desert stretched before them, vast and unbroken beneath the moon’s glow. The deep drum of hooves against sand was a song of pure exhilaration. It reminded her of the sea, of the rolling waves back home—except here, there were no tides to pull her back, no shores to reach, only the open expanse and the winking stars above, stretching infinitely forward.
She glanced to her side where Kaelen and Alarik rode in stride with her. Their expressions were unreadable in the darkness, but she didn’t need to see clearly to know. They felt it too—the quiet certainty that their lives were no longer separate threads but woven together, strong and unbreakable.
They finally stopped and dismounted. Kaelen tethered their horses at the base of a towering rock formation while Alarik went in ahead,disappearing into a narrow crevice in the rocks, an entrance so hidden that anyone passing by wouldn’t know of its existence.
Together with Kaelen, she slipped into the shadows, the cavern swallowing them whole.
Then it opened into something she didn’t expect.
Stopping short, her breath caught.
It was a cave transformed into a sanctuary. Woven rugs lined the floor, their intricate patterns a riot of deep crimsons, indigos, and golds, softening the unyielding stone beneath. Cushions of varying sizes were scattered in abundance, their embroidery glinting under the warm glow of lanterns.
Overhead, sheer multicoloured fabrics cascaded from the ceiling, their delicate threads catching the lantern light in shifting hues of amber and rose. Among them, ornaments of crescent moons, suns, and stars dangled. They swayed gently, casting fleeting patterns of gold and silver against the cavern walls, imbuing the space with a sense of mystery—ethereal, dreamlike.
Beneath this billowing canopy, at the heart of this sanctuary, lay a bed piled high with furs, a haven of warmth and indulgence. Silken throws draped in cascading layers, forming an area that was not merely a bed, but a retreat—designed for comfort, for intimacy, for surrender.
A pulse of recognition shivered through her.
“A nest,” she whispered, stepping forward. Her fingertips brushed over the furs, sinking into them. Warmth bloomed low in her belly. She’d only ever heard of them—spaces Alphas prepared for their Omegas during Heat.
Soft, sheltered, instinct-driven. A haven. A claim.
She turned back to look at them. “You prepared this . . . for me?”
Kaelen came closer, his voice lower, more certain. “We didn’t know your name or when we’d find you. But now I know: it was you. It’s always been you.”
Alarik glanced over the space, then back to her. “If there’s anything you want different . . . just say the word. We’ll make it yours.”
“It’s perfect,” she breathed. “I wouldn’t change anything.”
