Page 33 of Her Fated Alpha Prince
“And you’re a coward.”
The silence that followed was heavy. Then came a quiet laugh, sharp as a broken bone.
“You always were your father’s son.”
A flare of heat surged through Kael’s chest, but he bit it back. Fury would not help him here.
The footsteps receded. Chains clinked in the dark.
Then the door hissed closed again.
Alone, Kael let his head fall back against the stone.
And for the first time in years, he wasn’t sure whose side he was on.
The silence after the voice left was thick, pulsing with too many unsaid things. Kael sat still in the dark, fighting the urge to test the chains again. There was no give. Whoever had orchestrated this knew what they were doing. They wanted him helpless. Disoriented. Alone.
But he wasn’t entirely alone, was he?
Ariana.
The memory of her came unbidden. Not just the warmth of her touch or the quick fire in her eyes—but the moment in the garden, when the flowers had bent toward her like worship. When the very air had hummed with something bigger than either of them. And he’d felt it. Not fear. Not even magic, exactly.
Recognition.
Ariana wasn’t just new. She was old. Older than the court, older than the bloodlines they clung to like shields. She was something the realm had forgotten, or buried.
And that made her dangerous.
But it also made her necessary.
Kael’s fingers twitched, numb from the cuffs. He had to get out of here. He couldn’t help her shackled in the dark while others decided who she was. What she was.
He heard it then—a faint scuff. Not a guard. Lighter. Hesitant.
The door creaked open, just enough for a sliver of pale light to carve into the black. A shadow slipped through, hooded and small. Quick steps. A key in the lock.
Kael tensed.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said.
A girl pulled back her hood, revealing wide brown eyes and a braid nearly to her waist. She looked about fifteen. Maybe sixteen. Not a soldier. Not even a page.
“You’re Kael,” she whispered. “Right?”
He stared at her. “Who are you?”
“Liora,” she said quickly. “I clean linens. But my brother’s a scribe. He left this.” She pulled a folded piece of parchment from her cloak. “I wasn’t supposed to come. But I read it. I think you need to see.”
Kael took the note with shaking hands and opened it. The handwriting was familiar—tight and efficient. Varos.
She is awakening faster than expected. We’ve already drawn the Eye’s attention.
They won’t let her live if she’s unbound.
Get out. Get her out.
– V
