Page 31 of Her Fated Alpha Prince
By the time they re-entered the estate, Ariana’s skin was buzzing, her thoughts spiraling. The house was quiet—too quiet. Even the staff kept their eyes down, moving like ghosts through the corridors. She could feel it now, this undercurrent of tension humming beneath the silk and stone. They were being watched. Just like the note said.
As they passed the main corridor, a voice drifted toward them. Seryna. Laughing. Light and false.
Varos pulled her gently aside into an alcove. “No one can know we were out there. Not even him.”
“Him?” she asked, though her stomach already knew the answer.
“Kael,” Varos said. “He’s loyal to the crown first, always. If you want to survive this court, you must learn what not to say.”
Ariana nodded, pulse pounding in her ears. “And what about you? Where does your loyalty lie?”
He studied her for a long moment, then reached into his coat and pulled out a small object—an old, weathered pendant etched with the same markings from the pool. He placed it in her palm and closed her fingers around it.
“My loyalty lies with what you might become,” he said. “Don’t waste it.”
Then he was gone, disappearing down the hallway with that quiet grace only someone deeply dangerous could manage.
Ariana stayed there a moment longer, fingers curled tightly around the pendant. It felt warm, almost alive. Like a heartbeat.
She made her way back to her room, taking side passages and servant routes until she was behind the safety of her door. She bolted it shut, then pressed her back against the cool wood and sank to the floor.
Everything had changed. Again.
Her mother wasn’t just a memory or a hole in her past. She’d been part of this—whatever “this” was. And Ariana, whether she wanted to or not, was something more than human.
The pendant pulsed once in her hand, and she didn’t drop it. She held on.
When she finally climbed into bed, she didn’t sleep. She stared at the ceiling until her eyes ached. Until her breath slowed. Until the sky outside began to pale into the soft blue of morning.
A gentle knock came at the door.
Not Varos.
Not Kael.
Not now.
She rose, careful, silent. Opened it just a crack.
It was a servant girl, young, with wide eyes and trembling hands.
“There’s been an incident,” she whispered. “The High Commander’s chambers. They want you downstairs.”
Ariana’s gut clenched. “Is it Kael?”
The girl only nodded, face pale as chalk.
Ariana dressed fast, barely remembering to slip the pendant over her neck. She tucked it under her tunic, close to her skin, then ran.
Down the stairs. Through the halls. Past startled servants and guards in disarray.
Until she reached the threshold of Kael’s rooms—and stopped cold.
The door hung ajar. Inside, chaos.
Shattered glass. Blood. And no sign of him.
No Kael.
