But Castiel was watching, his awareness razor-sharp. If she made a misstep, if she faltered even a fraction too soon, he’d know.
Her fingers curled subtly at her side, forming the agreed-upon signal.
Hold. Wait.
Kaelen’s eyes flared, frustration clear in every rigid line of his body. Alarik, ever the steadier of the two, gave the faintest nod, though his jaw tightened.
Her heart ached at the sight of them—Kaelen’s desperation, Alarik’s quiet fury—but she couldn’t falter now.
Trust me.She willed the words to them, though her face remained vacant, even as her pulse thundered beneath her skin.
Just a little longer.
Chapter Fifty-Five
REIYANA
The chill of the night air pebbled her skin as Castiel led her out onto the terrace and onwards to the gardens. His grip was firm on her arm, guiding her toward the shadowy gate at the far end of the garden.
The wing-shaped pendant pressed against her palm, its edges biting into her skin like a silent plea to be released. She eased her fingers open, and the chain slipped free, falling without a sound to the cobblestones, where it caught the moon’s glimmer before coming to rest in a narrow crevice.
A subtle beacon, for when Kaelen and Alarik were searching for her.
Her breath steadied, her steps unbroken, even as her heart thundered in her chest. Castiel didn’t seem to notice. His attention stayed fixed ahead, his focus unnervingly serene. She allowed herself a brief glance downward, confirming the pendant’s position.
They’ll find it. They have to.
The next step was the braided bracelet. Her fingers brushed the cord, deftly unknotting the tie as she slowed her pace. Feigning a stumble, she bent slightly, her hand hovering just long enough to drop the bracelet on the stone paving the path.
“Careful, dove,” Castiel said, his voice low and taunting as he pulled her arm. “We wouldn’t want you to lose your balance.”
She straightened, keeping her expression vacant as she adjusted her dress. Her heart hammered, but she gave nothing away.
“Why? Worried you’d spoil the wares?”
His silence stretched for a beat too long, his smirk faltering just slightly before returning. “You’ll thank me one day, Reiya,” he said, his tone almost gentle.
Her jaw clenched, a surge of fury threatening to break through. “Keep telling yourself that,” she muttered under her breath, her steps falling into rhythm with his once more.
The gardens stretched out before them, a haunting stillness clinging to the air. The moonlight cast long, skeletal shadows across the manicured hedges and flower beds, their beauty now marred by the oppressive silence. The usual hum of palace life—the distant laughter of servants, the soft rustle of court ladies’ dresses as they strolled—was absent.
It felt wrong, hollow, as if the grounds themselves recoiled from what was unfolding.
Hassamir, draped in the regalia of an ancient Asadian king, stood by the gate, having evidently abandoned any pretence of subtleties with his choice of costume. Annaïs lingered just behind him, her crimson gown stark against the shadows.
Reiya’s pulse quickened, fury and disgust warring within her.
So it was true. They’d helped Castiel all along, and chosen their side.
Her gaze flicked to the gate ahead. It wasn’t manned, the guards conspicuously absent. Her stomach roiled. Hassamir’s reach extended farther than she’d feared. His subtle yet deliberate manipulation of the palace’s ground staff had left this path wide open, its loneliness a testament to his orchestration.
Her mind turned over the pieces of the puzzle she’d been gathering. The strained loyalties, the calculated movements, the strange alliance with Castiel—it all painted a picture she was beginning to see clearly.
Reiya’s gaze swept over them.
“I understand now,” she said, her voice cutting through the silence. “It has always been about the crown, hasn’t it? You’ve aligned yourselves with Castiel to secure your coup.”
Hassamir inclined his head slightly, as if she’d simply solved a riddle he never intended to hide. “And what of it, Princess? Surely, you of all people understand ambition.”
