There’d been desiretoo, coiling low in her belly, a deep, instinctive thrill—the undeniable response of an Omega drawn to an Alpha’s attempt to stake a claim.
A cold realization settled over her, heavy and inescapable. The Omega wasn’t some foreign thing she could suppress, something separate from herself that she could abandon. It lived beneath her skin, raw and restless, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
She had left everything behind, foolish enough to believe that distance could sever its hold—that choosing a Beta over an Alpha would strip it of its power.
The truth was clear now, more than ever.
She could run, she could deny, and she could drown herself in her delusion.
But nothing could change what she was.
Chapter Eighteen
REIYANA
Eventually, Reiya came to a stop, shoulders trembling, every shallow draw of air unspooling a knot of dread inside her.
Sweat trickled down her nape, and the pull toward the Xians’ wagon—its dark, familiar refuge—pressed hard against her. She could disappear there, shut the world out, but . . .
Hadn’t that been her path until now? Avoiding truths, sidestepping fear instead of facing it head-on? The wagon was a comfort, yes, but she hadn’t come all this way to hide, to shrink back into the shadows, even with the threat of Jodhar and others like him.
If she hid, what of the small agency she’d fought to carve out on this journey? Her place with the Xians? The promise she’d made to Xian Jun?
The purpose she’d found with the merchant family wasn’t grand, but it was hers—something she’d built with quiet steps along the way. She wouldn’t let Jodhar take that from her. Not someone like him, who prowled without respect, who saw boundaries as nothing more than lines to be crossed.
She drew a deep breath, willing her heartbeats to slow, letting the air settle her nerves. The market’s hum wrapped around her—spices,fresh bread, leather, and wool weaving into the rhythm of her steps. Voices blended—laughter, bartering, hurried feet over warm stone.
Where once she had resisted, she nowsurrendered—letting the pulse of the market guide her steps.
She pulled the crumpled list from her pocket: wool thread, saffron, goat’s milk soap. From what she’d observed, the market was divided by trade. The Xians’ stall, with its eclectic offerings of belts, pouches, and herbs, was likely near the centre. Judging by the pungent scent of spices around her, she’d drifted near the spice traders.
It was a good start.
Following the heady pull of cloves and cardamom, she threaded through narrow aisles, eyes flicking to the chalked stall numbers as Xian Jun had advised. Alphas passed now and then—faint sparks at the edges of her awareness. She shifted instinctively, keeping to the sidelines, watching without drawing notice. The caution came naturally, part of her now, but she kept moving, anchored in the market’s warmth.
The saffron stall appeared ahead, bright strands glowing inside glass jars. Relief steadied her as she gathered what she needed and moved on. Wool threads and goat soap remained, but the next section felt unfamiliar.
She paused, scanning the stalls, then asked for directions—only to once again meet indifferent shrugs and hurried steps.
Still, she pressed on, undeterred by dismissive glances. She stepped toward another vendor, bracing for another brushoff, when a woman’s voice, speaking in fluent Isseric, rose above the market’s din.
“Looking for the wool stalls?”
Reiya turned and found herself facing a striking woman. Gold hoops glinted in her ears, catching the afternoon light. She stood with effortless ease, as though she belonged to every inch of the bustling market. Sun-warmed curls framed high cheekbones and sharp angles, her crimson and gold robes magnificent against her brown skin.
Dark eyes met hers, steady and sure—welcoming, yet unshaken, as though the world held no sway over her. There was a quiet certainty in the way she moved, a fluid grace, unbound, unapologetic.Free.
Something in that freedom made Reiya pause. For a moment, she forgot herself—forgot the stall, the market, everything.
She blinked, pulling the pieces back together.
Wool.She was here for wool.
“Yes, I am,” she said, forcing the words past the tangle in her throat.
The woman’s gaze lingered, a flicker of recognition in her eyes—as if she knew more than she let on. A smile then graced her lips and she gestured toward a line of stalls to the east.
“Follow that row until you see the red awning. You should find what you need there.”
