Chapter 44 #3
Her eyes met Alexander. He said, “Not yet, but I have my suspicions.”
She turned back to the others. “You suspect Castiel, but do you think the other Vaelmonts are involved?”
The prince’s smile was thin and sharp. “Politics is rarely tidy. One enemy often hides another.”
“There are four brothers,” Alarik said. “One showed up tonight, one presumed dead. The other two . . . who knows?”
Reiyana looked out toward the gardens. Her face, haloed in moonlight, was unreadable. “Castiel betrayed trust once. If Ambrose carries even half his brother’s charm, or cunning, we’d be foolish not to tread carefully.”
Her gaze found JingYi. “Especially we Omegas.”
JingYi glanced at Alexander. He didn’t speak, but his presence at her side steadied her. Something had shifted tonight. She could feel it—a thread pulled loose. Somewhere, a tapestry was beginning to fray.
Alarik broke the silence. “We should return. Too long an absence invites questions, and I’ve no interest in fielding them.”
He offered Reiyana his arm. Kaelendrin fell into step beside them.
Then, she was alone with Alexander. Moonlight glazed the balustrade, casting his profile in silver and shadow.
“Do you think it was Bertrand?” she asked. “The one who stole your letter?”
Alexander’s nod was slow. “If not him, his spy. He had access to the castle. He knew my routines. And he had a reason.”
JingYi’s mouth felt dry. “The real villain is never far. And never without a smile.”
“He needed to control the narrative. To keep me chasing shadows. Think about it—the mine collapsed, pulling me away. And while I was gone, a letter appeared. Perfect timing.”
“He counted on me feeling betrayed.”
“You were hurt. You left. I followed. That allowed him freedom to act while no one was watching. Imagine what he was hiding, if he resorted to such trouble.”
One by one, the pieces clicked, and JingYi’s pulse quickened. “He sensed your suspicion about the mismanagement of the purple crystals.”
Alexander nodded, a grim shadow settling over his expression. “I shouldn’t have shown my cards the day he brought Master Hevlan to Lornhelm.”
“Still, without you there, Bertrand has free rein,” she said.
“Which is why I must return.” Something painful flickered across his face. “The king gave me leave to investigate Bertrand privately. I should already be gone, but I couldn’t leave without you.”
When he met her gaze again, it was unguarded. “I’ve done you a great wrong. I’m not asking for forgiveness. You have every right to doubt me. To despise me.”
He stepped closer and took her hand. “Parandor needs me. And it also needs you.” His tongue darted to wet his lower lip. “I need you. Come back with me. We’ll raise it up together. We’ll fight Bertrand, rebuild House Wulfbane into something worthy.”
His voice gentled, though still roughened at the edges. “And the people of Lornhelm . . . they don’t deserve to be punished for my mistake.”
She looked at him then—truly looked at the smudges beneath his eyes, the stubble darkening his jaw, the lines etched deeper than they’d been before.
He looked worn thin, like a man who’d slept poorly in a week.
And when their eyes met, that impossible blue glinting under the moonlight, she knew: She believed him.
She believed he hadn’t meant to hurt her. He hadn’t meant for the letter to be delivered. But the part of her that had been abandoned repeatedly warned her to stay guarded. To fold her heart into something small and hidden, something no one could reach again.
If this were only about Alexander, she would’ve said no. Would have let the ache cool into distance. It seemed safer that way. Cleaner. Love had never come to her without sorrow trailing behind it.
But this wasn’t only about him.
“I will go with you,” she said.
For the first time today, light sparked in his eyes. Before he could speak, she quickly added, “Not to be your wife again. Not yet.”
Her voice was even, but it scraped her throat raw. “I’m going for the people of Lornhelm. And I am going because my brother, for reasons I cannot fathom, fought to put me there. If someone is fighting just as hard to remove me, I need to know why.”
His posture faltered, the hope in his expression dimming, but it didn’t disappear. “But you’ll still come?”
She nodded.
Gods, how she wished it were simpler. Standing beside him, the distance between their bodies felt fragile and dangerous. Her fingers itched to reach for him. Her body remembered the nights she’d been in the throes of her Heat.
And yet . . .
If her heart still beat traitorously at the thought of Alexander, that was hers to bear. Quietly. Cautiously. But her mind had a new purpose: to solve the riddle of ShunLi’s bargain and defend the ground he had, inexplicably, arranged for her.
“I’ll come,” she said again, softer this time. “For Lornhelm. And for the truth.”
His gaze searched her face as if memorizing something sacred. Then, with the gentlest ache in his voice: “Thank you.”
She turned away before he could see the shimmer in her eyes.