“Useful things, anchors,” Kaelendrin mused. “As a princess from a maritime kingdom, you’d know best.”
“They keep ships safe when the ocean is turbulent.”
He was silent for a moment. Then, his smile turned into a grin. “You know what else they do? Weigh ships down when they’re meant to sail away.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, fingers curling into fists at her sides. She wouldn’t be coy and pretend she didn’t understand his meaning.
“Yet sometimes,” she countered, voice cooling, “an anchor is the only thing keeping them from being swept away.”
His smile softened. “True enough. But the question remains—do you want your ships to stay tethered, or would you rather feel the wind in their sails?”
The words struck a chord she wasn’t ready to confront. Her chest tightened. She turned to Alarik, hoping for reprieve, but his dark eyes held the same unwavering focus, silent yet echoing his brother’s challenge.
She shook her head. “Not every journey requires unmooring. Sometimes, it’s safer to stay where the waters are calm.”
Kaelendrin tilted his head slightly, his smile fading into something almost contemplative. “Is safety what you want, Princess? That’s not what I sensed in you.”
Her fists tightened, her heart thudding unevenly. “What I want is to return to the ballroom. As you noted, I’ve left my family’s side long enough.”
She gathered her skirt and strode past them. Two steps. Three.
Kaelendrin’s voice rang out, low but clear, cutting through the quiet. “Do you love him?”
She froze.
A lump clogged her throat. The answer should’ve been easy.Of courseshe loved Castiel. He’d been her closest confidant, keeper of hersecrets, guardian of her heart. They’d been inseparable as children, unchanging in their youth.
It was supposed to stay that way, even after she Awakened as an Omega. That was loyalty. That was love. That wasthem.
She turned. “I love him,” she said, but the words sounded hollow even to her own ears.
Kaelendrin’s gaze lingered, as if waiting for something more. ”Have you considered what this choice means for you? Betas and Omegas live different lives—need different things. Castiel may be a good man, but can he truly fulfill you?”
Her spine straightened. She shot back, “Presumptuous of you to assume otherwise. He may be a Beta, but he’s been there for me in ways no one else has. What right have you?—”
Kaelendrin stepped closer, the space shrinking until his presence pressed against her like a tangible force. His voice dropped to a near whisper, each word brushing over her skin. “You walk like someone waging a quiet war, torn between duty and desire—for choice, freedom, and . . .more.
He let the last word linger, low and knowing. Heat curled low in her belly, sharp and unwelcome. Lantern light flickered between them, casting shadows across his face, but the intensity in his eyes remained constant, unrelenting.
“I’ve seen it, Princess.” His voice dipped lower, intimate, every syllable brushing against her skin like a caress. “That fire in your eyes. Castiel may feel safe, but safety isn’t fulfillment. It isn’t desire. It isn’t happiness—and it certainly isn’t pleasure. There are things he’ll never give you. Things you need. Things youcrave, whether you’ll admit it or not.”
The words dripped from his lips like molten wax down the side of a candle—hot, smooth, slow. Each one kissed a nerve she didn’t know she had. Her cheeks flamed as meaning coiled sharp and bright in her mind, as she conjured images she had no business imagining. And his scent—cedar and spice, dark and heady—wrapped around her, pulling her loose from reason, leaving her weightless and wanting.
He was a Sunborn—a tether in the storm of her emotions. Thiswasn’t real, not truly—just her Omega instincts responding to the force of him.
Reiya bristled, shoulders pulling back. “I suppose you presume you can fulfill those needs?”
He let her retreat, meeting her sharp gaze with a slow, deliberate smile. “I do not presume. Iknow.”
Before she could snap back, Alarik’s hand found his brother’s forearm—a subtle check. He leaned in, voice low, delivering a quiet warning. Whatever passed between them seemed to temper Kaelendrin’s edge. He sighed, raking a hand through his golden hair, the first crack in his composure.
“If it were up to me . . .” His voice softened, something unguarded slipping through. His gaze held hers. “I wouldn’t be your anchor. I’d be the wind at your back, watching you chase the horizon. I’d never hold you down.”
The words struck like a clap of thunder, leaving her balance teetering. For a moment, she forgot how to respond. His conviction slipped past her defences, too sincere to dismiss, too unsettling to believe outright.
“You speak as if you know me,” she said at last. “But you don’t.”
“No,” he agreed, quieter now. “Not yet. But I’d like to.”
