Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
KAELENDRIN
S ome time later, Kaelen closed the door behind him with a quiet click, exhaling as he leaned his weight against the solid wood. The tension in his shoulders eased—but only slightly.
Reiya’s symptoms had finally ebbed, leaving her boneless with exhaustion, her breathing deep and even in sleep. His brother stayed alert, watchful, guarding her the way a desert predator might guard its den—silent, unyielding.
Pushing off the door, he moved down the corridor, his boots muffled against the tiled floor. He scanned the shadows ahead, looking for a glimpse of the bathhouse proprietress.
He remembered the sharp glint of her dark eyes when he’d first stormed through the threshold. The proud, unbending line of her shoulders—the way she moved like a woman who owed nothing to anyone.
Solmaz.
A name that fit the quick, decisive woman with coffee-dark curls and a gaze sharp enough to strip a man bare.
There hadn’t been time for pleasantries earlier. His and Alarik’s focus had been singular—Reiya. Their priority had been easing her through the torment between need and agony, a torment that could twist into unbearable pain without an Alpha’s steady presence.
It had been years since his path last crossed with Solmaz. She was a figure from his past, but more than that, she was a rarity among Omegas—one who thrived in the shadows of power, weaving whispers into weapons.
She didn’t just know things. She found them, cultivated them, polished secrets the way a jeweller honed rare gems.
If anyone could untangle the threads of Reiya’s near-abduction—if anyone had caught the faintest trace of who was truly behind the bounty notice—it would be her.
Kaelen halted a passing bath attendant with a subtle lift of his hand. “Is your mistress available?”
The girl bowed and asked him to wait before slipping away. He exhaled and leaned casually against the cool stone wall beside a potted palm, tapping his boot against the rug-lined floor. He knew Solmaz’s world didn’t yield to force or impatience; it demanded timing and restraint.
The reminder made his jaw tighten.
Still, he waited.
Then, the woman emerged as if the ground itself bent to her will.
Languid but purposeful, her golden robes shimmered in the light filtering through the windows.
Her coffee-toned curls framed a face honed by wit and tempered by time.
Though past the first bloom of youth, she carried her age as an asset rather than a liability, her poise and wisdom turning what others might call a disadvantage into a weapon sharpened by experience.
Her gaze locked onto him immediately, her head tilting in a slow, feline gesture—appraising, amused.
“Imagine my surprise when my man fetched the Alphas Yara asked for,” she drawled, her voice rich and honeyed, but with an edge sharp enough to cut.
“It turned out to be you—the Ethereal Sovereign, Tazahrin Kaelendrin Asad. The maiden is surprisingly well-connected.” A slow, knowing smile curled her lips, her gaze glittering with intrigue. “But, of course, she’s not an ordinary maiden, is she? ”
Kaelen inclined his head, unable to hold back a smirk. “I doubt anything surprises you that much, Solmaz.” He folded his arms across his chest and stepped in front of her. “I’ve been waiting to see you again.”
She arched a perfectly shaped brow, her lips curving into a mocking smile.
“You? Waiting?” A purr of amusement laced her tone. “A Sunborn Alpha showing restraint? I never would’ve thought. Perhaps even the brightest flame can learn to smoulder.”
Her words teased, but there was precision in them, an intended chord struck.
Kaelen exhaled softly, smirk deepening. “High praise from someone who knows how to wield both fire and shadows. I’ve learned patience is a virtue, especially when dealing with someone as informed as you.”
Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly—the playful glint giving way to something sharper.
“Flattery, Prince? That’s not your usual weapon of choice. Which means you want something.”
Kaelen’s voice dropped lower. “I have questions. And I suspect you have answers.”
For a moment, her expression turned unreadable, her fingers brushing the silver bangles circling her wrist, the delicate clink of metal a quiet music in the otherwise hushed corridor.
“What kind of answers?” she asked, eyes narrowing.
Kaelen shook his head. “Not here. You have a study, don’t you? Somewhere private?”
She studied him for a long moment. Then, with a faint shrug, she turned on her heel.
“Follow me.”
She led him through an interior courtyard where gilded cages hung from carved beams, each alive with a riot of brightly coloured songbirds.
Their trilling wove through the soft trickle of a marble fountain, the cool air heavy with the scents of damp stone and blooming orchids—delicate, extravagant things he wouldn’t have thought capable of surviving the desert’s heat .
Beyond the courtyard, she guided him down a quiet hall, their steps muffled by thick woven carpets. At the end, she pushed open an ornately carved door and stepped aside in silent invitation.
Inside, the air carried a faint trace of spiced incense, curling in the warm lantern glow. Shelves lined the walls—leather-bound tomes, lacquered boxes, delicate glass vials—an orderly accumulation of knowledge, secrets, and quiet influence.
The space was refined but unpretentious. Wealth that didn’t shout for attention because it didn’t have to. It suited her—understated, poised, enigmatic, powerful.
For an Omega with neither lineage nor noble name, Solmaz had carved out a place of consequence. The bathhouse wasn’t just a livelihood; it was a statement. A refusal to fade into the shadows.
Few Omegas were given the chance to thrive. Fewer still had the cunning to keep it.
“You’ve done well for yourself,” he remarked, a slow grin tugging at his lips. “Though I wonder what a certain desert lord thinks about you running a bathhouse instead of warming his bed. But”—he held up a hand in mock surrender—“I’ll keep my questions to myself.”
Solmaz’s smile sharpened. “Ah, subtleties. A lesson from your pursuit of a certain beautiful princess, perhaps?”
Kaelen’s amusement cooled; his grin faded.
How much of Reiya did she truly know?
“How is the princess?” she asked, as if reading his thoughts.
“Sleeping. My brother is guarding her.”
Solmaz’s gaze turned thoughtful. “The effects of Heat suppressants can be rough. I suspect her body is rejecting them. They can hold the symptoms at bay for a time, but eventually . . .” She let the words trail off, as if the answer were obvious.
Kaelen clenched his jaw, circling slowly. It didn’t surprise him she’d been taking suppressants. Travelling alone, with no trustworthy Alphas at her side, what other choice did she have?
Men like Jodhar lurked in every dark corner, making the alternative unthinkable. A slow, simmering anger burned in his gut. Like so many Omegas, she’d been forced to silence her instincts to survive.
“She was in pain,” he murmured .
“She would be in even more pain if it were true Heat,” Solmaz corrected gently. “This was only a warning.”
The thought slipped past his lips before he could stop it. “She shouldn’t have to take the suppressants anymore.”
Even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t that simple.
Solmaz studied him. “That’s her decision.”
His fingers flexed at his sides. “I know.”
But knowing didn’t make it less complicated.
He rubbed a hand over his face before levelling the woman with a steady look. “How much do you know about her?”
“Not much,” she said with a careless shrug. She gestured for him to sit in front of her desk, pouring a cup of tea with unhurried precision. The steam curled into the air, rich with saffron and chamomile.
“I know who she is,” she continued. “I know there’s a considerable sum offered for her return. The entire town is buzzing about the bounty.”
Kaelen’s jaw tightened, fingers curling into his palms.
His voice dropped into a low growl. “Do I need to worry about you turning her in too?”
Solmaz slowly settled into the chair behind her desk, flicking her bountiful curls over her shoulder as if she had all the time in the world. Every gesture was measured, as if she were indulging him.
“Do I look like someone who deals in such mercenary affairs, Prince?”
Kaelen exhaled, tipping his head in feigned consideration. “No,” he admitted. “But I do know you value order in your domain. And mercenaries—especially the desperate kind—tend to upset that balance.”
Solmaz took a sip of tea, her gaze hooded but sharp. “A few sellswords sniffing around hardly threatens the fabric of Zohara.”
Kaelen leaned forward, resting an arm on the desk. “A bounty of one hundred and fifty solaris does. That kind of coin doesn’t just attract opportunists—it calls the ones who don’t care how much blood they spill to earn it.”
His voice dipped lower. “And the kind who doesn’t respect the sanctity of a place like this. ”
A flicker of something passed through her eyes. Interest, perhaps, or amusement. With her, it was always difficult to tell.
“And you expect me to do what, precisely?” she mused, waving a delicate, ring-clad hand through the air.
“Command them to leave with a flick of my wrist? The Emir of Zohara wants this city to flourish, to rival Bashkor in trade and commerce. Chasing away lucrative transactions would hardly serve that purpose.”
Kaelen smirked knowingly. “Considering the Emir of Zohara pays you tribute for protection, I doubt this is beyond you.”
Solmaz stilled for the briefest moment, lashes lowering just enough to obscure her expression. The arrangement between her and the Emir wasn’t common knowledge, but he’d made it his business to understand the power structures of every city within a stone’s throw of Asadia.
“Careful, Prince Kaelendrin,” she murmured, her voice honeyed, rich, but limned with steel. “Knowing things one shouldn’t has a way of making one . . . vulnerable .”