Chapter 38 #2
That thought gnawed at her. If the queen’s crown was her goal, why seduce both brothers separately? Why not focus solely on Kaelen, the heir? Why risk everything by toying with Alarik at the same time?
She tucked the questions away. Perhaps, in the end, the past had been a mercy. What felt like betrayal had freed them from a union built on lies, rather than chaining them to it.
Then Alarik spoke, his voice low and thoughtful.
“I must confess,” he murmured, shifting his arm lower around her waist. His gaze searched hers.
“When we found you . . . I wasn’t sure if I could let myself love you fully.
Not because I didn’t feel it, but because I feared you might not be able to love us both. That I’d always be . . . second.”
She pulled away so she could stare into his eyes. “Why would you think that?”
A wry smile flickered at his lips. “Because I’ve spent my entire life in Kaelen’s shadow. I’ve accepted it, never resented it. He shines—always has. And people . . . They look past me to see him.” He hesitated, voice quieter now. “It never mattered. Until you.”
She inhaled sharply. She wanted to tell him she’d never seen him that way—but words alone wouldn’t erase a lifetime of standing in the background.
“I’ve seen the way Kaelen looks at you. The way you look at him. The ease between you. And I wondered . . . could I ever have that?” His hand found hers, pressing it over his heart. “Would I always be the one left in the dark?”
Her heart clenched painfully. She’d always seen Alarik as unwavering, the pillar of quiet strength. To hear his doubts laid bare made her want to wrap herself around him, shield him from the insecurities weighing him down .
She reached up, pressing a finger against his lips, silencing his next words before they could diminish him further.
“You are no less than Kaelen,” she whispered, voice trembling with conviction. “You both hold equal places in my heart. You’ve never been in his shadow, Alarik. Not to me.”
She held his gaze, willing him to see the truth.
“Where Kaelen burns bright and fierce, you are the steady light guiding me through the dark. Without you, there’d be no balance. I need you just as much as I need him.”
The tension in his shoulders eased, his expression softening in a way she’d never seen before. He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her lips.
“Kaelen calls you ‘Sáel.’ Brightheart. It suits you.” His voice was quiet, reverent. “But I want to call you ‘Ketra.’ Little Flame. The one that never goes out. The one that keeps me going.”
“Ketra,” she repeated, smiling. “I like it.”
They were close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his irises, the way his eyes flickered over her face, tracing her features with a quiet intensity that sent heat curling low in her stomach.
Neither moved. Neither pulled away.
His fingers flexed slightly against her side, the barest of touches. She felt the hesitation in him, the restraint, as though he was holding back.
Then, he bent his head, just slightly, just enough that their foreheads nearly brushed.
She swallowed hard, her pulse fluttering in her throat like a bird desperate to take flight.
The world narrowed to the space between them—just a touch, a heartbeat.
Slowly, she tilted her chin, closing the distance by degrees, until the tips of their noses brushed.
His breath mingled with hers, warm and unsteady, and her eyes searched his.
Something shifted in his gaze—darkening, softening—right before he exhaled, slow and quiet, like a thread loosening after being pulled too tight.
Then, at last, he kissed her.
It was slow, deliberate, as if he was memorizing the shape of her mouth, the way she fit against him. There was no urgency, no demand— only quiet devotion, a careful unravelling of something long restrained.
And when she responded, melting into him, she knew there would be no taking this back. His hands skimmed her waist, grounding her in the heat curling between them. Reiya’s fingers traced the sharp edge of his jaw, the rough stubble sparking something restless in her.
There was no rush, no need to prove or take—only the pull between them, steady and undeniable.
Kaelen had kissed her like fire—bright, consuming, leaving her breathless in its wake. But Alarik kissed like the tide, deep and relentless, as if drawing her in was inevitable. She sank into it, craving the quiet strength beneath his touch.
Instinct moved her before thought, her body fitting against his as she shifted onto his lap.
He groaned, a low rumble vibrating against her—a sound that sent heat pooling low in her belly.
His hands found her hips, firm and sure, guiding her against him.
The slow slide of his tongue teased, coaxing, deepening, until her pulse fluttered and her lungs strained for air in shallow, uneven pulls.
He was hard beneath her, the insistent press of him impossible to ignore.
She moved without thinking—closer, bolder, rocking against him.
Testing. Tasting. Wanting . Each motion stirred something untethered between them.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding on as if she could anchor herself in this sensation alone.
“Reiya,” he murmured, voice thick. He whispered her name like a vow, like a warning. Like he already knew—she would ruin him, and he would let her.
His grip tightened and he pulled slightly away. “Ketra, you’ll drive me mad.”
“Then let me.” She ran her hands down his chest, feeling the muscles tense beneath her touch. “Let me be the one who makes you feel everything .”
He caught her lips again, his fingers sinking into her flesh as he moved her against him, slow and deliberate.
Each roll of her hips sent heat spiralling through her, sharpening the ache with every passing second.
The world melted away, leaving only the two of them, lost in something fierce and tender, wild and consuming .
Her thoughts blurred as she rubbed herself on him, her body burning with a need she didn’t fully understand. But one word cut through the haze, raw and instinctive.
Alpha.
The urge to say it, to recognize him as the one igniting this fire inside her, grew stronger with every passing moment.
Her fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer, as if she could press the word into him without speaking it, as if he would understand—because maybe, just maybe, he already did.
A few hours later, the moon hung high, casting a pale glow over the sleeping camp. The stars shimmered like scattered silver, the world hushed beneath their light.
And it was time to leave.
Reiya returned to the tent she shared with Mei Mei, gathering what little she owned—the three matching braided bracelets she’d been weaving, a skein of water, a small portion of dry graincakes.
Mei Mei lay curled on their thin mattress, her small face bathed in moonlight. The smudges of exhaustion beneath her eyes remained, but in sleep, her features softened, free—if only for a while—from fear.
Reiya knelt beside her, brushing her fingers through the child’s silky raven hair. Unclasping the limyerite crystal necklace from her own neck, she hesitated only briefly before placing it into Mei Mei’s open palm. Instinctively, the girl’s fingers curled around it, holding it close even in dreams.
“One day, we’ll meet again,” Reiya whispered. “And you’ll tell me all your grand adventures.”
Mei Mei stirred, a quiet sigh escaping her lips. Reiya lingered, memorizing every detail—the warmth of her presence, the quiet rise and fall of her breaths, the trust that had grown between them in the weeks they’d shared a bedroll.
After pressing a gentle kiss to the girl’s forehead, she rose and stepped into the waiting night.
Kaelen and Alarik waited for her just beyond the tent.
Kaelen, despite his injury, stood with a posture betraying none of the pain she knew he must bear inside.
The faint flicker of his Sunborn tattoo was barely visible in the starlight, its glow dimmed by exhaustion and the sandshrike venom.
Alarik stood beside him, arms crossed over his chest, eyes scanning their surroundings with a watchful intensity.
Together, they moved silently toward the horses, steps muffled by the soft sand.
Ember’s ears flicked as they approached, her dark eyes glinting in the dim light.
Reiya reached out, her fingers brushing against the coarse mane of the horse she’d come to trust on their journey, whispering a quiet farewell.
The animal nickered softly, a sound of familiarity and comfort.
As Reiya moved to secure her pack to Alarik’s horse, approaching footsteps startled them all. She turned sharply, heart racing, and found Xian Jun standing a few paces away.
His silhouette was etched against the pale light of the moon, his expression calm. For a long moment, none of them said a word. She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak.
Xian Jun’s perceptive gaze swept over them, his silence heavier than any words he could’ve spoken.
Reiya turned to face him. She hadn’t wanted to say goodbye—hadn’t been sure she could. But now, with him standing before them, the moment had arrived.
She parted her lips, searching for the right words.
But before she could speak, he exhaled—a quiet sigh that broke the stillness between them.
“I don’t know who you are, or why those men hunt you relentlessly.
” His sharp eyes lingered on her for a heartbeat before softening.
“I have my suspicions, but it doesn’t matter.
The roads brought you into our lives, and now they will take you away.
You’ve shared our fire, our paths, and our burdens. To us, you are family .”
Reiya’s chest tightened, her vision blurring as tears threatened to fall. His words were more than a farewell—they were proof that even in the harshest moments of her journey, she’d found kindness and belonging.
Xian Jun’s expression shifted slightly, a tenderness in his voice she’d only ever heard him use with Mei Mei. “You may leave, but you’ll always have a home here. If ever your path leads you back to us, we will welcome you.”
Kaelen stepped forward, his movements stiff as if to mask his pain. “Your hospitality has been a beacon of warmth in the midst of uncertainty, Xian Jun. May the sands of fortune always shift in your favour.”
Alarik inclined his head. “May Rōkuyu guide you and loved ones, and may we meet again under brighter skies.”
She stared at Xian Jun, searching for words, but none felt worthy. How could language convey the gratitude swelling in her chest, or the quiet ache of knowing she owed more than she could ever repay?
So instead, she bowed, lower than she’d ever had in her life. A tear slipped free, warm against her cheek before falling softly to the sand.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything. I will never forget your kindness.”
Xian Jun nodded gravely, his gaze flicking to the mare.
“Take Ember,” he said. “It’s the least I can offer.”
She gasped, shaking her head. “But horses are precious resources. I can’t possibly?—”
“ Borrow her, then,” Xian Jun interjected gently. “That way, you’ll have to visit us again. To return Ember.”
Reiya hesitated, then stepped closer, pulling a small pouch from her pack containing the coins she’d earned along the way. She pressed it into his hand, closing his fingers around it.
His mouth opened and she could almost hear the protest at the tip of his tongue.
But before he could refuse, she told him, “For Mei Mei.”
For a moment, the man remained still, fingers tightening around the pouch. Then, with a solemn nod, he tucked it into the folds of his clothing.
“Travel safely,” he said, his voice quieter now. “And may you find what you are searching for.”
As Xian Jun vanished into the shadows, Reiya lifted her gaze to the horizon. The stars burned bright above the vast desert, the cool breeze carrying the faint scent of the oasis—a memory she would keep, a reminder of the kindness she’d found here.
She rested a hand on Ember’s neck and glanced at Kaelen and Alarik. The path ahead wouldn’t be easy, but she had chosen it. Chosen them .
With a smile, she said, “Let’s go. The road is waiting.”
Kaelen let out a soft laugh. “Spoken like a true Talharen.”
Alarik’s lips twitched. “Then let’s not keep it waiting.”
With one last look at the oasis, Reiya swung into the saddle. It would remain with her, always—but her heart was already moving forward.
As Ember surged ahead, the brothers flanking her, Reiya knew: This wasn’t an ending.
It was their beginning.