Page 24 of Her Fated Alpha Prince
Kael didn’t move as she closed the door.
He stood there in the dark, wondering if he’d just been given a warning—or a promise.
CHAPTER 9
_____
ARIANA
She didn’t sleep.
After Kael left, Ariana sat curled in the armchair by the window, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders like armor. The moon had dipped low behind the trees, and still her pulse thudded unevenly, echoing the imprint of his mouth against hers. Her skin tingled with it—like her body hadn’t gotten the message her mind had shouted: walk away.
She had. But gods, it had nearly broken something.
She stared out at the garden, the flowers still glowing faintly in the dark. The blossoms looked otherworldly, too alive. They didn’t sway in the wind; theylistenedto it. And ever since the dream, she couldn’t look at them without feeling the strange ache in her chest—the same one that had started the moment Kael had spoken her name in that ruined chapel.
Everything was changing too fast. The world here didn’t just run on different rules. It seemed to rewrite hers with every breath she took.
Her fingers tightened around the porcelain cup of tea she hadn’t touched. Cold now. Forgotten.
It wasn’t just him. It wasn’t just the kiss. Though that alone could have kept her spinning for hours—becauseshehad kissed him back. Because for all the ways he terrified her, she wanted more. She craved the truth in his silence, the weight of his presence, even the way he made her feel like she was standing too close to the edge of something vast.
She got up, abandoning the blanket, and padded barefoot across the cool stone floor to the open archway. The night air wrapped around her, warm and fragrant. Something in it hummed with quiet anticipation.
The garden whispered.
Not in words. Not out loud. But something pulled her forward—just enough for her to follow the curve of the path to a cluster of flowering vines she hadn’t noticed before. They shimmered faintly, leaves catching the moonlight like silver threads. One bloom pulsed with light as she neared. Soft and steady. Like a heartbeat.
Ariana knelt beside it.
The petals shifted toward her, glowing brighter. She reached out, breath catching, and brushed the edge of a single petal.
The worldtilted.
Images slammed into her. Not hers. Not from any dream she could recall. A vast temple beneath a red moon. Blood on the stone floor. A woman with silver eyes standing barefoot in a circle of flame, arms raised to the sky. And in the distance—screams. Not of pain. Of power.
Then darkness.
Ariana fell back onto the grass with a sharp gasp, her pulse a wild, galloping thing inside her chest.
“What the hell—”
“Careful,” said a voice, low and unfamiliar, but laced with something old.
She spun, breath caught in her throat.
A figure stepped from the shadow of the trees. Elder Varos.
He didn’t look surprised to see her.
Elder Varos moved with deliberate slowness, his hands visible, palms open at his sides. No threat, and yet Ariana’s entire body tensed like a string pulled taut.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, voice soft as rustling leaves. “But you shouldn’t touch the nightbloom vine. Not unprepared.”
Ariana pushed herself to her feet, trying to steady her breathing. “It showed me something.”
“I know.”
