Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
REIYANA
R eiya inhaled the crisp morning air, laced with the fading traces of woodsmoke and the damp scent of dew on canvas.
Around her, the caravan slowly stirred—pots clinking, the occasional bray of a mule, low voices drifting between tents.
The rhythm of her daily life was becoming familiar, grounding as she made her way to the well, bucket in hand.
Fetching water had become her task—a simple but steady ritual. Ru Rong needed it for tea, Su Lian for cooking breakfast. It tethered her to something practical, a reminder that she contributed; not as an Omega to be sheltered, but as someone useful.
She nearly reached the well when a hulking figure stepped into her path.
Jodhar.
His arms crossed lazily over his chest, that same mocking smirk tugging at his lips. A few of his mercenary friends lingered nearby, watching with thinly veiled amusement.
“Recovered from yesterday, have you?” Jodhar mused, his gaze flicking lazily over her. “Braver than you look, baby bird.”
Her jaw tightened at the moniker, but she kept her expression neutral. Baby bird . How very condescending it sounded, the way it stripped her of dignity, reducing her to something small, fragile, helpless.
Her grip tightened around the bucket, knuckles white as she met his gaze, chin lifting. “Will you step aside?”
Jodhar’s grin only widened. She shifted sideways, but he mirrored her, blocking the path with ease. His eyes gleamed, voice low and taunting.
“Bold little bird. Think you’re better than everyone?”
“Not everyone. Just Alphas who think harassing others is a good use of their time.”
Laughter rumbled from his companions. One let out a low whistle, clearly entertained. Her pulse quickened, but she held his gaze. “Now, if you’re finished, let me pass.”
Jodhar leaned in, his voice dropping to a gravelly rumble. “Careful, baby bird. Easy to go missing out here . . . especially an Omega who forgets her place.”
Anger flared beneath the surface, heart thudding against her ribs. Her hand twitched toward the blade hidden in her pocket. “Are you threatening me?”
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 jaw worked 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.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the earlier edge softened.
She forced herself to respond, but her answer came out sharper than intended.
“Yes.”
She pressed her lips together, then added, softer, “Thank you. But I can handle the rest.”
Frustration gnawed at her. The moment had slipped from her grasp before she could prove—to herself more than anyone—that she didn’t need an Alpha to stand her ground.
She risked a glance at him. His expression was calm again, almost gentle, as if the confrontation had been no more than a passing inconvenience.
To him, perhaps it wasn’t.
A Sunborn prince, born to command, accustomed to deference without ever needing to raise his voice.
While Omegas clawed and bled for freedom, Alphas had it handed to them from the moment they Awakened—especially Alphas like him .
The thought cut sharper than she liked, slicing through her gratitude. She drew a lungful of air, willing the resentment to cool.
It wasn’t Kaelen’s fault. He hadn’t chosen the life carved out for him any more than she had. And he hadn’t tried to crush her spirit—only to shield it.
Still, she wanted— needed —to be more than a precious thing to protect.
“I meant it,” she said again. “I’m grateful. But I would’ve preferred to handle it myself.”
Something flickered in his eyes—hurt, quickly masked. His jaw tightened, but he inclined his head, letting her words settle without argument.
They both looked up when Elder Tasim, along with Xian Jun and Alarik, approached. The caravan leader, a short, portly man with white beard, sighed, casting a wary glance after Jodhar.
“He can be . . . rough,” he murmured. “But he’s valuable to us. His team’s one of the best out here. I can’t afford to have them soured against the caravan.” He looked at her pleadingly. “Better to not provoke him.”
Reiya’s grip tightened on the bucket’s handle. “Elder Tasim, I wasn’t provoking anyone. I was simply trying to fetch water.”
The elder’s expression softened, but his response made her stomach tighten. “I don’t doubt that, girl. But Alphas like Jodhar . . .” He hesitated, rubbing his temple. “They don’t let things go. They demand respect, especially from Betas.”
“And I demand mine,” she countered. “Why is it always the rest of us who have to make space for them?”
Kaelen stepped forward. “Respect is a two-way path, Elder. If Jodhar refuses to grasp that, someone should remind him.”
Tasim rubbed his temple. “We’ve tried. It doesn’t end well.”
Alarik, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke. “There’s a difference between strength and control. If Jodhar is so valuable, then why does keeping him in line fall on everyone else?”
Tasim blinked at him, thrown by the remark.
Xian Jun joined in, voice quiet but firm. “Keeping a caravan safe isn’t just about numbers—it’s knowing when to stop a fire before it spreads.”
Alarik nodded. “You’re worried about Jodhar’s temper. But if he’s making people afraid now, how long before they stop trusting you to rein him in?”
Tasim hesitated. For the first time, his gaze flickered with uncertainty.
“I’ll speak with him,” he conceded at last, rubbing his forehead. “He needs to understand there are lines he can’t cross.”
Reiya felt her frustration easing. It wasn’t a full victory, but it was movement. And for that, she was grateful. For once, it seemed as though someone was willing to speak not only for her, but for everyone who might feel the weight of men like Jodhar pressing down on them.
Once Elder Tasim walked away, Xian Jun’s gaze settled on her. “You still want to fetch the supplies from the market this morning?”
She met his eyes, feeling the weight of his question, the chance he was giving her to stay and take on another chore.
“I’ll go,” she replied firmly. “I won’t let Jodhar keep me from doing what needs to be done.”
A slight nod acknowledged her resolve. “Take care. Some fights aren’t worth fighting in public. If there’s trouble, return to the wagon.”
“I’ll be quick. I’ll fetch water first, then head out after breakfast.”
His gaze lingered before he nodded and walked back toward the camp. Kaelen, however, stepped in front of her, blocking her path with a slight frown.
“You’re not going alone.”
She adjusted her grip on the bucket and exhaled. “It’s just the market.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “You’ve seen Jodhar and his men—charming lot. What if they follow you?”
She’d thought about it, about the way Jodhar’s eyes had lingered, the way his smirk had curled with unspoken threats. She wasn’t ignorant of the danger. But if she let herself hesitate—if she kept waiting for the right moment to feel safe—she’d never move.
If she didn’t take back some part of her agency now—when?
“I won’t be reckless. I just need to know I can do this on my own.”
Concern flickered across Kaelen’s face—a tangible worry that she’d drive herself too hard before admitting she needed help. Reiya could see it in the way his mouth tightened, the way he was already gearing up to argue.
“Let her,” Alarik said, stepping in before the words could leave his brother’s mouth. His voice was steady, certain. “People need to test their strength.”
He flicked a glance toward the distant mercenaries, his meaning clear. “And if it eases your mind, we’ll keep Jodhar busy. He won’t get within an arm’s length of the market.”
Kaelen rolled his shoulders, a restless shift, as if trying to shrug off tension he didn’t want her to see.
Finally, he exhaled. “Fine. But if something feels strange or suspicious, come back, or I’ll go in and look for you.”
She nodded. “Agreed.”
He didn’t look satisfied—she could see how hard it was for him to yield—but he stepped aside, tension still taut through his shoulders.
Reiya turned toward the well, lifting the bucket in her hand.
And though their footsteps didn’t follow, she knew their eyes would.