Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
REIYANA
S hivanar was unlike any horse she’d ever ridden—powerful yet impossibly smooth, every motion fluid as water. There was no hesitation in her gait, no fumbling for balance as they raced across the desert. Pure muscle and grace, she responded to the slightest shift of Reiya’s body with ease.
Shivanar wasn’t just carrying her; she was attuned to her.
The desert stretched before them, vast and unbroken beneath the moon’s glow.
The deep drum of hooves against sand was a song of pure exhilaration.
It reminded her of the sea, of the rolling waves back home—except here, there were no tides to pull her back, no shores to reach, only the open expanse and the winking stars above, stretching infinitely forward.
She glanced to her side where Kaelen and Alarik rode in stride with her. Their expressions were unreadable in the darkness, but she didn’t need to see clearly to know. They felt it too—the quiet certainty that their lives were no longer separate threads but woven together, strong and unbreakable.
They finally stopped and dismounted. Kaelen tethered their horses at the base of a towering rock formation while Alarik went in ahead, disappearing into a narrow crevice in the rocks, an entrance so hidden that anyone passing by wouldn’t know of its existence.
Together with Kaelen, she slipped into the shadows, the cavern swallowing them whole.
Then it opened into something she didn’t expect.
Stopping short, her breath caught.
It was a cave transformed into a sanctuary. Woven rugs lined the floor, their intricate patterns a riot of deep crimsons, indigos, and golds, softening the unyielding stone beneath. Cushions of varying sizes were scattered in abundance, their embroidery glinting under the warm glow of lanterns.
Overhead, sheer multicoloured fabrics cascaded from the ceiling, their delicate threads catching the lantern light in shifting hues of amber and rose.
Among them, ornaments of crescent moons, suns, and stars dangled.
They swayed gently, casting fleeting patterns of gold and silver against the cavern walls, imbuing the space with a sense of mystery—ethereal, dreamlike.
Beneath this billowing canopy, at the heart of this sanctuary, lay a bed piled high with furs, a haven of warmth and indulgence. Silken throws draped in cascading layers, forming an area that was not merely a bed, but a retreat—designed for comfort, for intimacy, for surrender.
A pulse of recognition shivered through her.
“A nest,” she whispered, stepping forward. Her fingertips brushed over the furs, sinking into them. Warmth bloomed low in her belly. She’d only ever heard of them—spaces Alphas prepared for their Omegas during Heat.
Soft, sheltered, instinct-driven. A haven. A claim.
She turned back to look at them. “You prepared this . . . for me?”
Kaelen came closer, his voice lower, more certain. “We didn’t know your name or when we’d find you. But now I know: it was you. It’s always been you.”
Alarik glanced over the space, then back to her. “If there’s anything you want different . . . just say the word. We’ll make it yours.”
“It’s perfect,” she breathed. “I wouldn’t change anything.”
She could already imagine it—how the furs would feel against her bare skin. Their warmth would surround her, consume her in ways she’d been thinking about more and more lately.
Her pulse quickened. She swallowed, the thrum of tension between them humming beneath her skin. When she looked at them—at the steadiness in Kaelen’s gaze, the stillness in Alarik’s frame—there was no pressure. No demand.
Just hope.
She slowly straightened. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”
Alarik reached for her, his fingers brushing her jaw, tilting her chin up. “Say it again.”
She met both their eyes—and let the truth fall freely from her lips.
“I want to be yours. Not someday. Tonight.”
Kaelen’s golden eyes darkened, something raw flickering across his expression.
He didn’t hesitate—didn’t even let her draw another breath before he cupped her face and kissed her.
His mouth pressing to hers with slow, deliberate reverence, as if memorizing the taste of her words, sealing them between them like a vow.
By the time he pulled away, her pulse was a wild drumbeat against his fingertips. He exhaled against her lips.
“Tonight,” he murmured, “we will show you what it means to be ours.”
Her skin flushed, heat curling low in her belly. She held on to their wrists and swallowed, gathering her nerve.
“How will we proceed?” Her cheeks burned, but she held their gazes. “Since it’s my first time, you wouldn’t both . . .” She faltered, the unspoken words thick in the charged air between them.
Kaelen’s mouth curved slightly, but beneath the teasing edge, she saw restraint, reverence, the way he tempered the instinct that must be roaring beneath his skin.
“No,” he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not tonight.” His voice dipped lower, rough with meaning, but the anticipation in it made her belly clench. “For that, we’ll wait for your Heat—make sure you’re ready.”
Then Alarik spoke, his voice even, but she heard the gravity in it. “Who do you want to be your first, Reiya? ”
She looked between them—Kaelen, golden-eyed and smouldering with restraint. Alarik, dark and steady, a grounding force in the fire between them. Her fingers curled into theirs. They were leaving this decision in her hands, a silent reassurance that her desires mattered just as much as theirs.
“How can I choose?” she whispered. “You’re both my Alphas—both of you complete me. Does it matter who takes me first?”
The words settled deep, solidifying what she had known all along—this was never about choosing between them, because she never could.
Silence stretched, thick and charged.
Then, Alarik turned to Kaelen. “You should be the one.” His voice was cautiously steady, matter-of-fact. “You’re the crown prince. By bloodline alone, it falls to you to claim her first.”
Kaelen’s fingers tensed slightly around hers, his golden gaze darkening. “That’s precisely why I shouldn’t—because I’m the crown prince.”
Alarik frowned. “Why?”
Kaelen exhaled. “Because the court will expect her first child to be mine. When her Heat comes and her body is ready to conceive, I’d gladly claim that place.” His voice softened as his gaze flickered between her and Alarik.
Reiya’s breath caught, and suddenly, she understood.
Kaelen would always come first in the eyes of the court and kingdom. His name would be the one etched into the histories, the father of the heir apparent, and one day, the Sunborn king who’d stand at her side. She would be his queen in the eyes of the world. That was inevitable.
But Alarik . . .
Alarik, who was born first but never crowned. Who stood in every shadow Kaelen cast. Who bore duty like armour but was never given the legacy to match.
Kaelen wouldn’t let this be another thing his brother was asked to surrender.
And neither would she.
She looked at Alarik, her hand reaching out for his, her decision settling like stone.
“I want you, Alarik,” she whispered .
He stilled.
For a heartbeat, he simply stared at her, as if he hadn’t fully understood.
Then—his eyes darkened with something deep and unfathomable before he leaned in, capturing her mouth in a kiss that sent heat spiralling through her.
It was consuming, a raw, unspoken answer to everything she’d just declared.
She sank into it, hands gripping his shoulders as he deepened the kiss, his touch branding her in ways more than skin-deep.
“If that pleases our Omega,” he murmured against her lips before kissing her again.
She melted against him, against them both, hands sliding into their hair, their arms—clutching, holding—as though she could tether herself to them, as though she could drown in this moment and never come up for air.
Then, Alarik released her and shifted.
Kaelen kissed her while Alarik’s fingers found the ties at her waist, unfastening them with slow, deliberate ease. The soft rustle of fabric filled the quiet, followed by the faint chime of beads as her tunic loosened.
Cool air kissed her bare shoulders as he eased the garment down her arms, his touch trailing in its wake. Soon, her silk trousers followed. He didn’t rush, just smoothed his hands over her skin, peeling the fabric layers away like she was something precious to be unwrapped.
She gasped against Kaelen’s lips when Alarik’s palm found her breast, his thumb brushing over the taut peak. A sharp, delicious pleasure spiked through her, and she arched into him, pressing closer.
He broke the kiss with a low chuckle, his lips trailing over her jaw, down the curve of her throat.
Then, Alarik’s mouth joined in. A shiver coursed through her as his lips pressed just beneath her ear, warm and lingering.
“You smell like desire,” he murmured, his voice thick. “Do you even realize how much?”
Reiya trembled, caught between the heat of them, between their touch, their mouths, their hands.
Alarik’s head dipped, his lips skimming over the swell of her neglected breast before closing around the peak, his tongue swirling, slow and deliberate. She whimpered when he pulled with his mouth, suckling, and she felt the pressure all the way down to her core.
They laid her down on the furs, bare beneath their gazes. Cool air kissed her skin, sending a shiver through her—not from cold, but from awareness. This was the first time she’d been truly exposed to them, nothing between them but breath and heat.
Golden strands spilled over the furs as she arched, her body seeking, chasing, helpless against the pleasure.
Their mouths returned to her breasts, slow and unrelenting, tongues working her, flicking against her nipples in a rhythm that sent heat curling through every inch of her.
A choked moan escaped her, and their grip on her hips tightened.