Jodhar’s smirk twisted. He jerked his chin toward his men, voice low and oily. “I’ve kept my mouth shut so far. But if they knew what you are . . .”
Reiya stiffened, blood thundering in her ears.
“An unclaimed little Omega,” he murmured. “Walking around all sweet and helpless.”
He leaned closer—too close. His breath hit her cheek, foul and hot. “It’s been months since any of ’em caught a whiff of something worth rutting after.”
A pause. A grin that made her stomach turn.
“Maybe we see how long you last before you’re begging.”
Disgust churned in her gut, fury and fear tangling as she fought to steady herself.
She opened her mouth to speak, but another voice cut through the air, sharp and lazy all at once.
“The lady clearly doesn’t welcome your attention, Jodhar.”
Reiya turned, heart lurching.
A few paces away stood the golden-haired prince, the glint of amusement in his voice at odds with the warning underneath. Beyond him, she glimpsed Alarik, standing with Xian Jun and Elder Tasim, their postures taut.
The prince drawled, “Why don’t you save it for someone who actually wants it?”
Jodhar turned, bristling. “Do I know you?”
The response was easy, almost bored. “No. But I know you.” A slight tilt of the head. “Your reputation, tarnished as it is, precedes you.”
Her eyes darted between the two men—both Alphas, yet worlds apart. Where Jodhar barked orders to dominate, Kaelen spoke with conviction, not noise. His confidence filled the clearing like sunlight breaking through clouds. He wore authority without needing to brandish it, a natural command that made even Jodhar’s men shift uneasily.
Sunborn.
Even now, standing there with a casual slant to his shoulders, he radiated a power impossible to ignore—steady, certain, undeniable. For a heartbeat, Jodhar’s sneer faltered. The shift in the air was almost visible, the undercurrent of the crowd pulling back, watching, weighing.
Still, Jodhar pressed forward.
“You might want to watch yourself, stranger. Not everyone here takes kindly to newcomers who don’t know their place.”
Kaelen’s expression didn’t so much as flicker. His voice stayed quiet—almost casual—but there was steel beneath it.
“And not everyone here takes kindly to bullies who pester others for sport. I’d say we’re even.”
A flicker of satisfaction stirred in Reiya as Jodhar’s face tightened, the jab hitting its mark. The laughter from his companions had died away, replaced by wary glances.
Kaelen wasn’t loud—he didn’t need to be. The quiet weight in his tone was far more unnerving than Jodhar’s bluster.
Jodhar growled, “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”
Kaelen arched a brow. “I know I am. You, on the other hand—still figuring that out?”
A tense silence stretched between them, the air heavy. Jodhar’s jawworked furiously, but it was clear who had the advantage now. Kaelen’s stance, easy yet unyielding, made the bigger Alpha look smaller by comparison.
“Watch yourself, golden mutt,” Jodhar spat, flashing a look of promised retribution. He gestured sharply to his men. “Be grateful I don’t have time this morning to wipe the dirt with you.”
Kaelen watched them retreat, relaxed but unmovable. Then, just loud enough for Reiya to hear, he murmured, “Funny. I was about to say the same to you.”
Reiya watched as Jodhar and his group slink away, but something in the way his gaze lingered on her—a threat veiled behind retreat—left a hollow unease curling in her chest.
Even as Kaelen turned, his stance easing, she couldn’t shake the sense that this wasn’t over.
