Chapter 59
Chapter Fifty-Nine
REIYANA
I t lingered for two more days.
By the third morning, the all-consuming blaze dulled to embers, leaving her cocooned in a haze of bone-deep contentment. As the first slant of sunlight crept into the cave, she stirred, nestled between her Alphas.
Her skin tingled, exceedingly sensitive even now. Every shift, every brush of their bare bodies against hers, sent a soft hum of pleasure through her—but it was no longer the feverish, unrelenting hunger that had engulfed her before.
This was warmer. Slower. A closeness that went beyond instinct and need.
Kaelen’s arm curled around her waist, possessive even in sleep, his breath steady against her shoulder. Alarik’s palm rested over her hip, rough fingertips tracing absent patterns against her skin.
Reiya sighed, letting herself melt between them, stretching lazily as the last remnants of sleep ebbed away. Her body was spent, aching in the sweetest way. Even now, satisfaction lingered in her muscles, a whisper of memory woven through every touch, every press of skin against skin .
She arched subtly, rubbing against them, not out of need, but for the comfort of feeling them there. Hers.
A kiss landed at the curve of her neck, slow and lingering.
“Do you need us again, Ketra?” Alarik’s voice was a gravelly murmur, thick with indulgence. His teeth grazed lightly over her pulse, teasing.
Kaelen stirred as well, dragging his mouth from her collarbone to the hollow between her breasts. His teeth caught gently on her nipple, followed by the warmth of his tongue.
“We’re ready if you do,” he growled softly, pressing his groin against her hip, as if to prove a point.
Heat curled low in her belly at the invitation, but this time, the fire didn’t consume her, though it warmed her still. She tangled her fingers in Kaelen’s hair, tugging just enough to pull his gaze to hers.
“As tempting as that is,” she murmured, her voice hoarse. “I think . . . rest, for all of us, is the order of the day.”
She brushed her lips over Kaelen’s and turned to Alarik next, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple, a silent promise of more to come, later.
“I just want to feel you both near me right now. No rushing.”
Kaelen grinned, shifting back against the furs.
“I suppose we can let you recover.” But his hand slid down, resting low over her stomach, circling just below her navel.
The touch sent a different kind of heat through her—not of desire, but of possibility.
A child— theirs.
Reiya swallowed, a soft, startled ache pressing against her ribs. The thought had been distant before, lost in the haze of need, but now . . . now, it could be real. If a life had taken root within her, it had been forged in instinct, in devotion, in the unshakable certainty of their bond.
Alarik’s arms tightened around her from behind, his hand sliding beneath Kaelen’s, fingers spreading lightly over her abdomen. He didn’t say a word, but the way he held her spoke louder than words ever could .
He would love the child she bore, no matter whose blood ran through their veins.
His nose brushed the fresh mark on her shoulder, his lips following, sealing that silent vow.
Reiya’s throat tightened.
Her Heat had been overwhelming—primal, desperate, beyond reason. But this . . . this moment was different.
This was the after.
This was love.
She let her hands cover theirs, fingers twining together over her abdomen, and felt the bond settle deeper—not just through instinct, but through something unbreakable, something lasting.
E ventually, they had to return to Turasid Palace.
Before leaving the nest, they’d taken time to cleanse and dress, the sanctuary proving itself well-equipped for their needs.
A private bathing chamber had been carved into the rock, its basin filled with naturally warm water, allowing them to wash away the remnants of her Heat.
Fresh garments awaited them—soft, loose robes for comfort, a thoughtful provision that made the transition back to court life feel less jarring.
Still, as they approached the palace gates, Reiya felt the lingering ache in her limbs, a quiet echo of the nights spent in their arms. In front of the palace’s grand steps, Kaelen pulled Shahram to a smooth halt, his grip steady at her waist. She’d ridden sidesaddle the entire way—astride would’ve been unbearable after the thorough, unrelenting pleasure of her Heat.
He dismounted first, then reached up, bracing her carefully as she slid down, her dress spilling over the saddle. The moment her feet touched the ground, a new urgency settled in her limbs.
After days of separation, she was eager to see the Xians again.
But Captain Marzius stood at the base of the steps, his sharp gaze sweeping over them before softening slightly. Stiffly, and rather hurriedly, he bowed .
“Welcome home, Princess. Tazahrin. Prince Alarik.”
Kaelen inclined his head, one hand resting at the small of Reiya’s back. “Marzius.” Then, noticing the grim set of the captain’s mouth, he paused.
“Did something happen?”
Marzius gave a brisk nod. Reiya felt her pulse tighten at his heavy expression. Alarik stepped closer behind her.
“His Majesty waited to inform you until your return. The High Chancellor and Lady Anna?s were taken into custody following the masquerade. The king ordered them held under palace guard pending an inquiry.”
“And?” Alarik’s voice was flat, as though he could already guess the news.
A muscle ticked in the captain’s jaw. He had the look of a man upset with himself. “Sometime during the night, Hassamir vanished. No sign of forced escape. No witnesses. No disruption in the guard rotation. He simply . . . disappeared.”
Reiya’s heart dropped. “And Anna?s?”
“She’s still here. Confined first to her apartments, then moved to the underground cell after her father fled. She’s been questioned, but claimed she knew nothing.”
Kaelen swore. “Castiel Vaelmont—has he been questioned too?”
Marzius gave a grim nod. “He had even less to say. Kept his mouth sealed well enough.”
Reiya stared past the captain, her thoughts racing. Hassamir—always calculating—had slipped free before justice could catch him. But Anna?s . . .
“He left his daughter to answer for him,” she murmured.
Marzius said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes.
She turned away, frustration and seeds of anger brewing inside her chest. Hassamir might be gone, but the wreckage he left behind remained—and it reeked of something far more calculated than a simple flight from justice.
No signs of struggle. No broken routine. No witnesses.
Someone had helped him.
She didn’t know what unsettled her more: that Hassamir still had loyalists willing to risk everything for him, or that the palace itself might be compromised. Guards, staff—people she’d walked past, smiled at, trusted. Any one of them could’ve opened a door, looked the other way.
And Castiel. He might not have lifted his own finger to assist Hassamir’s escape, but his silence was certainly telling.
The conspiracy ran deeper than they feared. Each thread they pulled only revealed more knots.
She exhaled, hands curling at her sides, nails digging into her palms.
A quiet presence at her side pulled her from the spiral. Alarik’s fingers wound through hers—squeezing, anchoring. When she looked up, his tender smile met her like a balm.
Some of the tension in her chest eased.
He turned to the captain. “We’ll speak with the king shortly. In the meantime, where are the Xians being housed? The princess is eager to greet them.”
Marzius bowed. “They arrived safely two days ago. Lady Neda offered them the Ambassador’s Wing, but they declined. Said the lesser pavilion in the outer courtyard would suit them better.”
Reiya’s lips twitched. Of course they did.
“They’ve settled in well,” the captain added. “The girl, Mei Mei, has taken a particular liking to Princess Thalina. But she has asked for the Tazahrina twice a day since their arrival.”
As if summoned by name, a small figure broke free from the pavilion’s shadow, bare feet slapping against the stone as she sprinted over.
“Yara!”
Reiya crouched just in time, laughing softly as the child flung herself into her arms, small hands gripping her dress. For a moment, all her worries—Hassamir’s escape, the gnawing unease it left behind—faded beneath the sheer joy on Mei Mei’s face.
“There’s my brave girl.” She pressed a lingering kiss to the girl’s hair.
Kaelen chuckled beside her. “Seems someone missed you.”
Mei Mei’s grip tightened. “Níang said we shouldn’t bother you until you were rested, but I didn’t want to wait. ”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Reiya adjusted her hold, the child fitting easily against her side.
Her gaze lifted past Mei Mei to see Xian Jun, Su Lian, and Ru Rong approaching. Seeing them here, far from the caravan roads where they’d become her family, felt almost jarring.
Yet their presence was warm and familiar—like another home.
Xian Jun stood straight, expression carefully neutral, while Su Lian and Ru Rong looked more relaxed, their gazes warm, though a little uncertain. Ru Rong shifted her weight, hands on her hips, as if debating whether to bow or scold Mei Mei for running ahead.
“Mei Mei,” Su Lian whispered, stepping forward and gently tugging her sleeve. “I told you—call her ‘Princess’ or ‘Your Highness.’”
Mei Mei blinked up at Reiya, wide-eyed. “I always knew you were a princess.”
Reiya arched a brow. “And I’ve always known you have the best eyes in the family.”
The girl giggled, and warmth spread through her chest, leaving no room for formality.
Ru Rong stepped forward first, her weathered but gentle hands cupping Reiya’s face—a mother’s touch, familiar and knowing. She tilted Reiya’s chin up, scrutinizing her with quiet intensity.
“You’ve grown thinner,” she mused. “Don’t they feed you here in the palace?” She turned to Mei Mei. “Go and fetch some steamed buns for Yara.”