Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
REIYANA
“ H ello again.”
The woman’s voice threaded through the steam, each unhurried step echoing faintly against the stone.
Candlelight flickered across her face, catching the warmth in her eyes—steady, knowing—as if finding Reiya here was no coincidence at all.
Fingers slipping beneath the water, Reiya felt tension coil tight in her shoulders, as if the pool’s warmth might somehow shield her.
“I thought you might choose this side,” the woman said. “It crossed my mind earlier that you might be an Omega.”
Reiya lifted her brows. “What gave me away?”
The woman’s lips curved in a faint smile, one shoulder lifting in a slow, fluid shrug as she discarded her towel and descended into the pool.
“Nothing obvious. But we recognize our own, don’t we?”
Those dark curls spilled over her shoulder when she tilted her head. “Even when we don’t mean to.”
A ripple stirred the water as Reiya shifted, studying her more closely. There was no judgment in her words—only understanding, as if this moment had always been waiting for them.
And perhaps, she realized, she had known too .
The woman’s presence in the market had lingered with her for reasons she hadn’t fully grasped. A quiet, inexplicable pull—like recognizing a song she didn’t remember learning.
Now, it felt less like coincidence and more like inevitability—two threads pulled by the same unseen hand, crossing paths in places neither had planned.
“Thank you . . . for helping me earlier,” Reiya said, dipping her head slightly. “I didn’t have the chance to say it before.”
The woman waved a dismissive hand, settling comfortably into the water. “Think nothing of it. The market’s a maze if you don’t know the way.” She studied Reiya with a curiosity that felt more warm than prying. “It’s your first time here?”
Reiya nodded, offering a small smile. “Yes. First day in Zohara.”
“Yet you wandered alone, without a guide. How brave.”
“I’m travelling with a merchant family in a caravan. I help them out with errands.”
“If that’s so, you’re clearly up to the challenge.” She smiled. “I’m Solmaz, by the way.”
“I’m Yara,” Reiya replied with a nod. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She caught Solmaz’s gaze flicking to the bruise on her neck, but the woman kept her thoughts to herself. She only watched—her expression steady, her silence heavier than words.
After a moment, Solmaz moved closer, settling in beside her. “Zohara’s a place of contrasts,” she murmured. “Sometimes it welcomes you; sometimes it challenges you in ways you don’t expect.”
Reiya nodded, the weight of her own recent challenges settling more comfortably in the presence of this stranger. “I suppose I’ve been learning that.”
Solmaz let the silence stretch before she picked up a comb resting by the bath’s edge, lifting it in a gentle question. “Would you like help with your hair?”
Reiya hesitated, then dipped her head in quiet consent.
The comb’s teeth slid through her damp hair in slow, steady strokes, each pass smoothing more than just tangles. There was comfort in the simplicity of it, in the gentle rhythm that seemed to pull her thoughts back into place.
She hadn’t spoken of Jodhar’s bite, hadn’t let the weight of it slip past her lips. But Solmaz’s touch, so patient and unassuming, pressed gently at the edges of that silence.
Reiya’s fingers brushed the faint bruise, the touch sending a raw ripple through her chest. The memory clung to her skin, unwelcome, sharp. It wasn’t easy—giving shape to the vulnerability stirring beneath the surface. But . . . maybe Solmaz could offer the clarity she craved.
She kept her voice low, barely louder than the lapping of the water.
“Have you ever felt like your body doesn’t listen to you?” she whispered. “Like it reacts in ways you don’t choose?”
Solmaz’s hand stilled in her hair, the brush hovering midair. She didn’t answer right away—only let the question settle.
Reiya pressed her knees tighter to her chest, the words scraping loose before she could gather them properly.
“An Alpha tried to… make me submit.”
Her throat tightened, but she forced the rest out. “And I felt something I didn’t want to feel. As if my instincts betrayed me.”
A moment of stillness passed before Solmaz’s hands rested lightly on her shoulder, warm and grounding.
“That struggle between mind and instinct,” she said quietly, “is something every Omega comes to know. Sometimes our bodies respond, even when our hearts refuse. But that doesn’t change who you are.”
The brush moved again through Reiya’s hair—slow, soothing, giving her space to breathe.
When Solmaz spoke again, her voice had softened, almost a secret meant only for the water and steam around them.
“People think instincts define us. But they don’t. They’re just a part—a thread, not the whole tapestry. You are more than a reaction. You have choice. You have will . And no Alpha can take that from you.”
Reiya’s fingers curled into tighter fists, the steadying pressure of Solmaz’s words anchoring her to herself.
“It’s hard to remember that… when they try to overpower you.”
Solmaz exhaled, the sound low and worn with understanding .
“It is a test,” she agreed. “One you never asked for. But here’s the truth, little one—only you decide what those moments mean. No Alpha, no fear, no instinct can touch the part of you that knows who you are.”
Her words unfurled inside Reiya like a slow, stubborn flame—small, but refusing to be extinguished.
Here, in this quiet place, it was easier to believe autonomy still belonged to her, no matter the pull of instinct or the demands others would place upon her.
“It does seem unfair,” Solmaz mused, her voice turning thoughtful, “that an Omega, at her most vulnerable, should be so easily swayed by an Alpha’s influence. That’s why it matters—who you spend your Heat with. Trust is everything.”
Reiya lowered her gaze, voice barely a whisper.
“It’s only been six months since I presented. I haven’t had my first Heat yet. At least… I don’t think I have?—”
Solmaz chuckled, indulgent and knowing.
“Oh, child. Trust me. When the Heat comes, you’ll know.”
The comb stilled in her hands. Solmaz set it aside and shifted, frolicking around the pool for a moment before settling. Her gaze flicked to the faint bruise along Reiya’s neck, a shadow passing through her eyes.
“Now,” she said, voice lighter but threaded with real curiosity, “tell me—why does a beautiful Omega like you travel with merchants and caravans, and not with a strong, handsome Alpha at your side?”
The question hung between them—teasing, but kind.
“Some time ago, I eloped with a Beta man,” she admitted. “But things . . . didn’t turn out as I’d hoped. I left him, found my way to the merchant family, and . . . well, here I am.”
Solmaz clucked her tongue in gentle reproach.
“A union with a Beta would never have satisfied you. There’s a hunger inside you, whether you want to name it or not—and only an Alpha can meet it.
Had you stayed, you’d have spent your days suppressing yourself, denying what you are.
You would have withered, piece by piece, while he grew bitter and restless beside you.
That’s no life, child—not for him, and certainly not for you. ”
Reiya pressed her lips together against the ache rising in her chest.
When she’d made that choice—choosing Castiel, choosing flight—she hadn’t understood what it would truly cost.
She’d imagined a life unchanged: a quiet existence, side by side, untouched by the tides shifting inside her.
It had never crossed her mind that loving him would mean silencing a part of herself—or how that silence would’ve slowly, inevitably unravelled them both.
A sharp, hollow ache twisted deeper.
Had Castiel seen it even then?
Had he understood, long before she did, that their bond had been born from fear, not love?
She had clung to him as an escape.
And he . . . He had used her for purposes still veiled in shadows.
“I was . . .” Reiya hesitated. “I was afraid of being with an Alpha. So many stories taught me Omegas were meant to serve, to submit. I was raised to believe our purpose is to pleasure and breed with them, to fulfill our destiny through obedience, especially during Heat.”
She swallowed. “Alphas take, and Omegas submit,” she said quietly. “Isn’t that . . . the way of things?”
“Is that what your mother taught you?”
Reiya let out a small, humourless laugh, looking away. “My mother is a Beta. She tried to prepare me, but how could she teach what she never lived?”
“You didn’t grow up with any Omegas? No one to tell you there’s another way?”
“There aren’t many where I come from,” she murmured, keeping her voice light. But inside, the words tasted heavier. Not many—and none allowed near enough to offer their wisdom.
Even before her Awakening, no one had thought she’d need to know. Why teach a princess how to carry a burden no one thought she’d bear?
Solmaz exhaled. “Then you were left with the same stories many Omegas are told—half-truths shaped to fit an Alpha’s world.” She shook her head. “You’re not the only one who’s been taught that we exist only to serve. ”
She clasped Reiya’s shoulders. “Being an Omega doesn’t mean being powerless.
There’s strength in it—if you learn to claim it.
Alphas may have brute force, but we are far rarer.
In every thousand men, twenty are Alphas.
In a thousand women, only one is an Omega.
That scarcity alone gives us influence.”
Reiya carefully considered her words. She’d never thought of her Omega status as a source of power—only as a role she had no choice but to begrudgingly accept.
To her, being an Omega had always meant weakness, a curse binding her to the will of Alphas. But Solmaz painted a different picture: one where being an Omega wasn’t a limitation, but an advantage.