Chapter 44 #2
A single white mare stood inside, her coat gleaming like spun moonlight. Unlike the others, she didn’t stir at their approach. She watched them, eyes calm and knowing, her long mane cascading in waves as she tilted her head.
Something tightened in Reiya’s chest—a pull, an instinctive need to touch, to comb her fingers through the mare’s mane.
Kaelen entered the stall, running a gentle hand down the mare’s neck. “Her name is Shivanar. ‘White Storm,’ in our tongue.”
She barely heard him. Drawn in, she stepped forward, reaching out with slow, measured movement. Shivanar remained perfectly still as her fingers slid through the silken strands.
“She’s beautiful.”
“She’s yours,” Alarik said.
Her head snapped up. “Mine?”
Kaelen’s smile softened. “Ember will return to the Xians, but Shivanar is yours forever. She’ll carry you through the desert winds and beyond—your companion alongside us, as we continue our adventures. Together.”
Exhaling, she pressed her forehead gently against Shivanar’s.
“Thank you,” she murmured, emotion thick in her throat. “Both of you.”
Alarik unlatched the stall. “Shall we take her out for a ride?”
“I’d love that.”
Kaelen chuckled, squeezing her arm. “But first, something warmer. The desert has a sharp bite at night.”
She stroked Shivanar’s mane one last time before returning to her room where she quickly changed into fitted satin pants and a long dark rose tunic with slits on either side for ease of movement. A full-length cloak completed her ensemble.
Before leaving, she sifted through her satchel—graincakes, waterskin, and other odd bits—until her fingers found the three matching bracelets she’d made during her days in Zohara. She slipped them into her pocket, warmth unfurling in her chest.
By the time she returned to the stables, the horses were ready. Stepping onto the stool beside Shivanar’s saddle, she glanced at the princes.
“Mind if we make a stop on the way?” she asked, adjusting her cloak as she settled into the saddle.
Kaelen arched a brow. “Somewhere specific?”
Reiya’s fingers brushed the bracelets in her pocket, a quiet smile forming.
“You’ll see.”
T he Temple of Luneth stood at the edge of the oasis, its carved sandstone walls bathed in the warm glow of oil lamps.
Their flickering flames cast shifting shadows across the water, the air perfumed with moonflowers and desert jasmine, laced with the faint smokiness of incense curling from bronze censers.
As tradition dictated, Solthar’s temple stood beside it—goddess and god, protectors of Omegas and Alphas, never more than a stone’s throw apart. A row of kiosks lined the path leading to the temples, offering flowers, woven charms, and small tokens of devotion meant to be set aflame at the altars.
Though it was late, a few vendors remained, their quiet presence lending an air of stillness rather than commerce, as if they too recognized the sanctity of this hour.
Kaelen stepped forward, exchanging a few murmured words with a vendor before returning with three small bouquets of moonflowers—Luneth’s beloved bloom.
Together, they ascended the stone steps, their footsteps hushed against the temple floor.
Reiya approached the offering bowl at the altar, its polished bronze rim catching the candlelight.
She knelt, placing her moonflowers inside as Kaelen and Alarik did the same.
She lit the dried herbs beneath the offerings, and the flowers curled in the rising flames, their fragrant smoke lifting into the air.
She watched the fire crackle, embers winking in the air.
Her relationship with Luneth had always been uncertain—more duty than devotion, especially in the six months after her Awakening. The goddess had felt distant then, silent in the face of her turmoil.
Yet, despite her doubts, the goddess had guided her when the path was unclear, protected her when she was alone. She’d never know whether surviving the ocean with her wrists bound was chance or fate—but it had brought her here .
To this moment.
They all rose to their feet. Kaelen and Alarik watched as she reached into her cloak pocket. Her heart thudded an erratic rhythm as her fingers found the bracelets.
It was unusual—unseemly, even—for an Omega to be the one initiating the first gesture, the first vow. But in her heart, she knew this was the right thing to do.
Here, in this temple, with Luneth as her witness.
She withdrew the bracelets—woven from their threads: cerulean, forest green, and ochre—and turned to face them. At the end of each braid, a small flower had been carefully knotted into place, a reminder of the little blue flower Kaelen had picked for her the day they reunited.
“I made these for you,” she said quietly. “For us.”
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The firelight flickered between them, gilding their cheekbones, brightening the flecks of gold in their eyes.
Kaelen’s expression shifted—something reverent softening the usual mischief.
Alarik stood utterly still, as if afraid the moment might dissolve if he so much as shifted a finger.
Then Kaelen stepped forward, fingers brushing her palm.
“A stargazer,” he murmured at last, his voice low, almost like wonder.
“To remind us where we started. And what we’re still reaching for.”
She had worried, as she shaped the delicate threads, that the flower’s form might be lost—that the meaning might go unnoticed. But her Alphas understood immediately .
“For true north,” Alarik said, his eyes meeting hers. “And true love.”
She nodded, her throat tight. “One day, we’ll stand before the priest and priestess, before our families and our people, and declare what already exists between us. But I don’t need an audience to make this vow.”
She placed one bracelet in each of their palms, closing their fingers around the braided cord.
“I give you these not out of duty, not because it is expected, but because I choose you. I love you—both of you—not as halves of a whole, but as the two who complete me, and each other.”
She took a deep breath. “This is my promise. Not of perfection, nor of ease, but the certainty of standing beside you as you’ve stood beside me. Of love and acceptance, now and forever.”
A charged stillness settled between them. Reverent. Certain. The weight of their stares pressed into her chest,the moment carving itself into her memory.
“One day, we will be married in front of the whole kingdom,” Kaelen agreed, his voice rough. He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against her knuckles. “But this is the moment you become our wife and Omega.”
He paused, his grip firming slightly. “And when your Heat arrives . . .”
He didn’t finish the words, but she understood.
Alarik held out his wrist. “Allow us the honour.”
With steady fingers, she fastened the knot, securing the braid against his skin, then turned to Kaelen, who extended his arm without hesitation.
Then, together, they tied hers in place, their hands brushing, lingering—sealing their vow in this quiet intimacy.
No priest, no witnesses.
The thought of marrying Castiel in secret had once perturbed her. It had felt like surrender. But this—this moment, with them—she felt no regret.
Only certainty. Only rightness.
Kaelen’s fingers brushed over the bracelet resting against her wrist, his smile slow and sure.
“I’ll love you with every breath, every day I’m fortunate enough to have you, Sáel.
And if the gods get jealous and steal me away—well, I’ll find my way back to you, across stars or shadows.
That, I swear. You’ll not be rid of me, in this world or the next. ”
Alarik’s grip around her hand tightened, anchoring.
“I’ve never been a man of easy words,” he murmured, his voice raw at the edges, “but understand this, Ketra—what I give you, I give wholly. My heart, my sword, my soul. Whatever I am, it stands with you—in light or shadow, in peace or ruin. You will never face this world alone.”
Warmth suffused her, a tremor blooming in her chest. She hadn’t known how deeply she’d hungered for those words—not until they settled over her, stitching together every frayed edge inside her. Heat pricked her eyes, fierce and aching.
Any weight she carried felt lighter, not because it had lessened—but because they were lifting it with her.
Then, Kaelen’s smile deepened, a familiar glint breaking the solemnity. “Now that you’ve given us your gift, it’s only fair we give you ours.”
Reiya arched a brow. “I thought Shivanar was the gift.”
His fingers laced with hers, warm and mischievous. “There’s something else,” he said, his grin sparking a flutter in her chest. “Come.”