But him? His lies had been calculated.
Kaelendrin’s voice had lost its earlier bite. “You were scared. But fear doesn’t make you cruel.”
Alarik’s gaze darkened slightly. “And it doesn’t excuse what he did, either. Betas aren’t harmless just because they lack an Alpha’s strength.”
“I know that now,” she murmured.
His expression sharpened, studying her—not with scrutiny, but in assessment.
“Why did he orchestrate it?” he asked, his tone contemplative as though he was asking himself. “If it wasn’t for love, and it wasn’t for money . . . Why drag you into this?”
Her hands tightened on the edges of her shawl. “He never told me his true aim. Just kept saying it was bigger than me, than him, than even the kingdom. Like it was some grand plan I couldn’t understand.”
Alarik’s tone dropped to a cold edge. “Bigger than the kingdom.” He said it like a challenge, daring the truth to reveal itself. “What could he possibly want that demands not just you—but the whole kingdom—brought to its knees?”
He began to pace, a fist pressed to his lips. “If Castiel wanted wealth, influence, or even a twisted claim over you, he would’ve kept you for himself. There’s something else at play—something we don’t see yet.”
Kaelendrin’s brows furrowed. “If he’s talking about something bigger than the kingdom . . .” He paused, then exhaled sharply. “It sounds like he’s after something that could change the entirety of Issoirea, affectingallthe nine kingdoms.”
Reiya shuddered. Castiel’s cryptic words had felt distant before—just another manipulation, another vague promise in the dark. But,spoken aloud, with the Asadian princes weighing them, they carried a new gravity.
Had she been nothing more than a pawn in something far greater than she realized?
Alarik stopped and ran a knuckle across his jaw, as if turning over the pieces in his mind. “The dock workers told us his ship was headed for Bashkor. Did you know?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “No. He said we were going to Batteron, where a friend arranged a priest for the marriage rites.”
The words felt brittle, foolish as she said them. Memories of whispered promises crumbled under the weight of the truth.
Her brow furrowed. “Still . . . Bashkor makes no sense. It’s notorious for illegal Omega auctions—selling to the highest bidder. But Castiel was clear he didn’t care about wealth. Why take me there?”
Alarik’s gaze sharpened. “The dock workers could’ve been misled. Bashkor might’ve been a decoy to throw off anyone trailing him.” He paused. “Or a stop on the way to somewhere else.”
Kaelendrin folded his arms. “If that was his plan, he played it perfectly. The moment we heard his ship was bound for Bashkor, we went straight there. Had to see for ourselves.”
“And?”
“No trace of him. No sign of a sale.” He hesitated. “But there was a bounty. A high one. Someone—maybe even Castiel himself—wants you found.”
Her stomach dipped. “A bounty?” She lifted a hand to her temple. She had expected danger—she knew Castiel had deceived her—but the thought of him placing a price on her retrieval sent a cold, shuddering shock through her bones.
Because who else would’ve done it? Who else wanted her found?
She swallowed, bile rising in her throat. “That . . . explains so much.”
Alarik’s brow furrowed. “Explains what?”
She took a steadying breath. “Two nights ago, we stopped at Vhalis Thorn. I sent a Sparo to my family. The next morning, mercenaries showed up, claiming they planned to return me home. I would’v been caught, if not for Xian Jun.” She chewed on her lip. “At first, I thoughtit was just a strange coincidence. But . . . what if someone intercepted the message before it even reached the palace? The Sparo had a ring marking its home. They would’ve discovered where I sent it from.”
Alarik’s expression darkened. “Then don’t send another—not directly. We’ll pass it through our father in Asadia. He’ll get the message to your family safely, without tipping off anyone else.”
His brother nodded, expression softening slightly. “Father would make sure it’s secure. No one would intercept it—not if he’s involved.”
Reiya nodded, fingers curling into loose fists as relief trickled in. Her fingers drifted absently over her wrists, tracing the faint welts just beginning to heal. The skin itched as it mended, a restless reminder of what she’d endured. Across from her, Alarik’s gaze tracked her movement.
“How precisely did you escape?” His voice was low, careful.
The details blurred, but she pieced them together. “When I woke up, after he sedated me the second time—groggy, bound—I thought there had to be a way out. Then I saw the door to my cabin was open.” A pause. “I took the chance and threw myself into the ocean.”
