3. Chapter 3
T he final blush of sunset faded into shadow as I passed through the long portrait gallery, its light retreating from the works of art lining the walls. I hadn’t realised it had grown so late. The war room had no windows and only one entrance, and the entire space was so heavily warded to prevent eavesdropping that the outside world was completely shut out.
Pausing by a crystalline window, I let the moonlight wash over me, time slipping by unnoticed until the deepening darkness pulled me out of my reflections. I straightened and continued to Alaric’s quarters.
‘Ari?’ I called, knocking on the door.
I should have come sooner, but part of me was afraid of what my own emotions might reveal. The embrace we’d shared in the forge earlier lingered in my thoughts, igniting questions I wasn’t ready to face.
Have I been blind all these years we’ve lived at the fortress? I questioned, trying to recall whether I had missed the quiet yearning Alaric’s gaze when he’d healed me or soothed my headaches in the past. Standing under the moon’s pale light, so reminiscent of Ari’s iridescent skin, I realised how much I had ignored the feelings his touch had awakened—curious and confusing as they were.
I heard cursing, and a soft scraping before the door creaked open a sliver. My jaw dropped at the sight of the dishevelled fae, his bloodshot eyes peering myopically through the gap.
‘Leave me alone, Orm,’ he rasped, his voice so rough I wondered if he’d been screaming all night. ‘Hrae. 1 Please. Just go.’
‘The fuck I am,’ I said, pushing the door open.
His lips quirked in a bitter semblance of humour that worried me as he stepped back. ‘Wine?’ he asked, shuffling towards the table before he winced, grasping its edge and stumbling mid-step. I’d moved before I knew it, grabbing his shoulders and steadying him as he clutched his chest.
‘For gods’ sake, talk to me! What’s going on? Are you hurt?’
My fear for him had made me snap, and I instantly regretted it, seeing how he flinched at the tone of my voice. From the corner of my eye, I saw the white bed linen covered with bloody glyphs before the hand patting mine distracted me.
‘The Lich King is relentless,’ Alaric admitted, his voice brittle. ‘The bastard keeps trying to worm his way into my mind, promising to keep Annika safe if I deliver her to him.’ He laughed sharply, the sound ending with a splatter of blood on my shirt. ‘Like I’d ever give him my Domina.’
‘You should have told me,’ I sighed.
‘What would it change?’ he asked, his shoulders slumping. ‘Only Annika could help, and she’s still out there, alone. Just let it go. Come on, have a drink with me. If I numb myself with enough wine, his voice sounds more like the ravings of a drunk mind.’
Instead of answering, I stepped closer, a memory of Annika’s words flickering in my mind. Sliding a hand beneath his shirt, I pressed my palm to his chest, over the faint glow of his marks. Ari froze, his eyes widening.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked, though he didn’t pull away.
‘Helping you. Or trying to, at least,’ I murmured. ‘It’s just a hunch, but I can’t let you go through this alone. Is it working? The piece of Ani’s soul inside me, is it enough?’
‘Of course, no . . . erm, yes?’ he said after a moment’s hesitation. ‘I can still hear him, but it doesn’t turn my insides into molten agony. Ha! I can ignore his damn voice.’ He barked a brief laugh before looking at me. ‘What made you think to try that?’
‘I remembered something Ani said and, well . . . I carry a shard of her soul. I figured it couldn’t hurt to try.’
Alaric stepped back and peeled off his shirt, his movements tentative. Standing before me in only a pair of dark spider-silk trousers, he trembled as he approached again. This time, there was no hesitation as I placed my hand over his heart once more. Relief softened his features, and his eyes drifted closed.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered, the words laden with an unfamiliar vulnerability. ‘I know this isn’t something you’d normally do. I—thank you.’
I stepped closer, my voice quiet but firm. ‘Ari, stop hiding your pain from me. If I can’t help, let me at least be here for you. How many times have you done the same for me? Even before Annika, we were close. Why should it be any different now? If anything, I feel . . .’ I trailed off, the words slipping away, unnamed.
I’d always felt at ease with Alaric, even more when Annika was with us. Her presence balanced the bond between us. But here, now, alone with him? It felt different—more intimate in a way that unsettled me. I couldn’t pretend this moment was only about her. Being alone with him made me question everything.
Could what we shared be more than brotherhood?
‘Whatever it is, I’ll accept it,’ Ari said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. ‘I don’t want your pity, Orm. I am who I am. Somewhere along the way, I started feeling . . . something for you. I know you’ve noticed. You can’t hide the questions in your eyes when you look at me.’ He offered me a brief smile as he covered my hand with his. ‘But I won’t let it ruin what we have. Our friendship means too much to me.’
He exhaled sharply, lowering his head. ‘And I don’t want you to do anything just to please Annika. My feelings for you are for you alone, and if you never feel the same, that’s alright. Truly. I just needed you to know.’
Ari’s words hit me like a blow, raw and unguarded. He looked so lost as he stood before me, stripped of his usual sharp wit and aloofness, exposing a heart I never realised he’d kept hidden. It was a side of him I hadn’t seen before, and a strange emotion swelled in my chest—warm, curious, and terrifying all at once. My gaze lingered on him longer than it should have as a thousand questions swirled in my mind.
I’d grown up surrounded by the roughest and crudest soldiers in the kingdom, and even though relations between men were not only common but often encouraged as a way for warriors to bond, I’d felt no desire to join in.
So what is it about Alaric that stirs something within me, something no man has before? And why does this moment feel so different?
A crooked smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it, an instinctive reaction to the flutter of intrigue. But with the intrigue and burgeoning attraction came uncertainty. Could I untangle my feelings for him from those I had for Ani? And if I could, was I ready to face what that might mean for us? For me?
‘I don’t know . . .’ My voice came out hoarse, hesitant. ‘All I know is that I need you. Will you let me stay the night?’
He blinked, surprised, before quirking a brow. ‘I only have one bed,’ he said, a familiar mischievous glint breaking through his sombre expression.
‘Then let’s hope you don’t snore, or I’ll go sleep with Vahin,’ I shot back, surprised when he laughed.
‘I’m a fae of the noblest of houses,’ he replied, his grin faint but real. ‘We are above such things, unlike a certain brutish rider who snores louder than a forge fire.’
Just like that, the tension cracked—not enough to dissipate entirely, but enough to remind me of who we were. The change between the fae who had opened the door and the one who was now teasing me was astonishing.
This was Ari, the man I’d known and trusted for years. Recognising that made the uncertainty just a little easier to bear. Even more, it seemed as though my touch eased his torment, and there was no way in hell I would leave him alone to deal with that.
‘Still better than a drunk fae too stubborn to admit he’s suffering,’ I countered, gesturing to the bed. ‘Grab the wine; I’ll get the glasses. Tomorrow’s going to be a godsdamned awful day, and I need to discuss our next steps with you.’
I kept my hand pressed to his chest, unwilling to break the fragile connection that seemed to shield him from the Lich King’s assault. With Annika, her proximity seemed to be enough, but with only a small shard of her soul inside me, I was certain his pain would return the moment I broke contact.
Alaric nodded, and we sat on the bed with a bottle balanced precariously between us. I kicked off my boots and shrugged out of my shirt before stretching to lean against the pillow. Unfortunately, as soon as I stopped touching him, I saw the tension return to his face, the faint lines of pain creeping back in. That wouldn’t do.
I patted the pillows beside me while reaching for the wine. ‘Come on, come closer. Don’t just sit there like you have board shoved up your arse.’
Ari hesitated but eventually settled beside me, rescuing the wine glasses before I could knock them over. I placed my hand back on his chest, but the position felt awkward, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep like that. If it were Annika, she’d already have her head on my chest, climbing me like a bloody tree. The thought gave me an idea.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, come here,’ I said, laughing nervously as I slid my arm around his shoulders and tugged him closer. Ari gasped but didn’t resist, allowing me to shift him until he was half lying on me, his back to my chest. It felt oddly natural.
‘Orm, what . . .?’
I shrugged, my voice light. ‘It feels right. And I like to have both hands free.’
Ari huffed a laugh. ‘If you say so.’
We lay there, sipping wine, and for the first time in what felt like ages, the world seemed to quiet. His hair tickled my skin, and on impulse, I caught a strand, giving it a gentle tug. Alaric chuckled, pulling it from my fingers. I felt like a thief caught red-handed but seeing him smile again was worth it.
‘We’re going to commit treason tomorrow,’ I said to cover my embarrassment. ‘I thought we’d only be slipping in with the Dark Brotherhood, but Reynard wants to use this to start his rebellion.’
Ari’s head shot up, his golden eyes sharp with alarm. ‘So, what’s the plan? Because if we attack openly, won’t they just slit Ani’s throat? If we’re going to rebel, let me go in before dawn. I’ll take a few assassins with me and find her before you and your brother storm the front gates.’
He sat up straighter, hands curling into fists. ‘Hrae! The pain made me forget—Valaram is planning something. I found out he’s requested an audience with the king, and tomorrow morning the Crown Office is issuing an edict calling for the heads of all noble families to attend.’
‘Valaram?’ I repeated, leaning forward. ‘As in the dark fae ambassador Valaram?’
Alaric had managed to surprise me. I knew he had access to Truso’s underground, but getting information from the dark fae embassy was the achievement of a spymaster, especially since their mages closely monitored the place.
‘Yes, and I don’t like it. Making a move now could end badly—’ He paused, muttering under his breath, before nodding and looking me in the eye. ‘No, you’re right. We don’t have a choice. Even the common folk whisper that the king is no longer capable of ruling. We need to control the situation before fear makes people grab their pitchforks and torches. You wouldn’t believe the gossip I’ve heard—some have even mentioned seeing the Moroi.’
‘The Moroi?’ My brows furrowed. ‘Here? That can’t be right.’
‘Maybe,’ Ari murmured, placing my hand on his chest. ‘But the Lich King’s magic is becoming more intrusive, almost like a compulsion, like he’s running out of time. After tomorrow . . .’ He exhaled heavily. ‘Orm, I have a bad feeling. War is coming, and we don’t even know who will stand with us.’
I rubbed my temples, the weight of it all pressing down. ‘Then we take control before it spirals. Send some of your assassins to join Reynard’s guards. We’ve requested an audience with the king, so gaining entry won’t be an issue. I’ll leave it to you to disperse them throughout the palace, but I want someone at the gates ready to open them for the rest of our men when the fighting starts. Find Ani, lead her to the courtyard, and don’t look back. Vahin will be overhead, ready to extract you both.’
Alaric frowned. ‘You expect me to convince Annika to leave you behind? She’ll never—’
‘Lie if you must. Drag her if you have to. Do whatever it takes, but I want her far away from Ihrain and the chancellor.’ My voice cracked despite my effort to keep it steady. ‘If she refuses, guard her with your life. We can’t risk her getting caught in the chaos.’
‘You know I will.’ He reached for my shoulder, his grip firm. ‘But be reasonable, Orm. Even without her magic, Ani’s a fighter. She can hold her own.’
‘She shouldn’t have to!’ The words tore out of me before I could stop them. Shame and anger swirled as I admitted the truth I’d buried deep. ‘If she had her magic, whoever took her would be ash by now. I failed her, Ari. I failed as her mate, as a commander. And it won’t happen again.’
The silence that followed was heavy, my confession hanging in the air like a storm cloud. Alaric squeezed my shoulder, his voice steady and unyielding. ‘No more of that, Orm. Guilt won’t bring her back. Tomorrow, we’ll fix this. Tonight, you need rest. Both of us do.’
He shifted, laying his head on my chest, his breath warm against my skin. I stared at him, this man who, despite the darkness tormenting him, always found the words to dispel mine. When I didn’t respond, his body tensed, and he started to pull away.
Instinct overruled reason. I caught his chin, tilting his face towards mine. His golden eyes widened, filled with a hesitant understanding that made my chest ache. Slowly, I bent down and pressed my lips to his. The kiss was soft, tentative—a question I hadn’t meant to ask but couldn’t stop myself from voicing. Ari gasped, his mouth parting in surprise, and I deepened it, savouring the warmth, the trust, the tender fragility of the moment.
I expected confusion. Maybe regret. Certainly guilt. But instead, something new and unexpected bloomed inside me—a connection as delicate as it was undeniable. My tongue grazed over his small fangs, and I recalled the blood bond he had performed with Annika. Maybe one day we would be ready to have our own , I thought.
When I finally broke the kiss, I let my hand linger on his cheek, my thumb brushing against his skin. ‘Good night, my friend,’ I whispered, the words laced with more meaning than I intended.
‘Good night, my lord,’ he murmured, his voice thick with raw emotion.
I closed my eyes, willing the flood of desire away, knowing if I didn’t, I would use his beautiful mouth in an entirely different way.
And I feared he wouldn’t object.
1. Fuck.