“She doesn’t,” Alarik agreed calmly. “But there’s not much room in politics for kindness, Reiya.”
The injustice of it quickened her pulse, and the rising heat beneath her skin—restless and aching—was impossible to ignore. It prickled along her spine, coiling low in her belly, making it hard to breathe, even harder to stand still.
“It doesn’t make it right.”
His lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, it doesn’t. Unfortunately, politics is often not about what’s right, but about what works.”
Reiya held his gaze, her chest tight. “I hate these games.”
Alarik stepped closer, his touch featherlight as his fingertip traced along her jaw. His golden eyes softened, lips curving faintly. “That’s why Kaelen and I loveyou. You’re not like them.”
Reiya let out a soft exhale, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Maybe not, but I have to play them too, just enough to win.”
Alarik’s thumb brushed against her lip, his gaze lingering on her flushed cheeks. “And you will,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, the words carrying a quiet certainty that made her chest tighten.
She wrapped her arms around his waist. “With you and Kaelen, I feel like I already have.”
He bent to capture her lips in a tender kiss. When they parted, he tilted his head, studying her with a softness that couldn’t quite mask his astuteness. “If I ask you to seek your bed, will you be able to sleep, when you’re this restless?”
Reiya hesitated, her pulse quickening under his scrutiny. The word fit too well, wrapping around the buzzing tension beneath herskin.Restless. Yes, that was it, but there was also more—a nagging feeing of heat andwant, an echo of the torment she’d felt during her Kindling.
Her gaze faltered, drifting to the small expanse of skin visible over his collar, where his pulse beat steady and strong, a maddening contrast to the erratic thrum of her own.
“Come here,” he said softly, pulling her back into his embrace.
Reiya didn’t hesitate and leaned in. His firm embrace steadied her in a way nothing else had. Her cheek pressed against the warm breadth of his shoulder, and she released the air trapped in her lungs. The tension in her body ebbed slightly, replaced by the quiet comfort of his closeness.
They stood there, the silence between them broken only by the sound of their breathing. Slowly, he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze.
“Your Heat is getting closer. That contributes to the heightened feelings.”
Reiya rubbed her cheek lightly against his neck, seeking more contact, her voice soft. “I’ve stopped taking the suppressant.”
“Soon, proximity may no longer be enough. It’s natural. There’s nothing to fear.”
“I don’t fear it,” she said, her fingers rubbing across his chest. “Though sometimes it feels like it creeps up at the strangest times.”
Alarik’s lips twitched into a faint, knowing smile. “Then let me help you.” His hands slid slowly down her arms. “Care to burn off some of that excess energy?”
A flush bloomed low in her belly at the suggestion. Her voice was quieter when she asked, “What precisely did you have in mind?”
“Why don’t we train? Burn off some of that energy.”
Reiya leaned back, brow arching as her lips curved, this time with faint amusement. “Train?”
“Hand-to-hand combat,” he clarified. “You said you wanted to learn, back in Zohara. It’ll focus your mind.”
She huffed a chuckle. “Do you ever rest?”
“Rest is for those with nothing left to improve.”
“And here I thought perfection didn’t need improvement.
That drew a low bark of laughter from him. The sound eased something in her chest, her pulse settling, just slightly.
“You’ll regret offering,” she murmured.
His golden eyes glinted—amusement mingling with unmistakable challenge. “We’ll see. Come. Show me what you’ve got.”
