REIYANA
The market had begun to settle as the afternoon waned, the once-bustling energy thinning to a quieter hum. Reiya brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, stacking the last of the folded fabrics behind the stall. Su Lian had already left to help Ru Rong prepare supper, leaving her to tidy up before heading back.
Kaelen’s words at the teahouse still lingered. His voice pressed against her thoughts, unwelcome yet insistent.
She’d always seen Alphas as the ones holding the chains, the ones with the power to take, to command, to silence. Buthehad looked at her as if he understood—truly understood—what it meant to be defined before he even had a say.
A prickle of unease threaded through her. She didn’t like the way that made her feel—like she’d been holding onto something too tightly, like her convictions weren’t as solid as she’d believed.
Had she been fighting so hard to be free that she’d never questioned if she also put others in cages?
Reiya sighed and rolled her shoulders. The market air clung to her, thick with the scent of spice, dust, and sweat. The afternoon sun had begun its slow descent, bathing the marketplace in a golden haze. Sheresisted the urge to scrub at her skin as she finished her work for the day.
She looked up when Xian Jun arrived. He took a quick scan of the stall and nodded. “You did well today.”
She smiled. The braided bracelets had continued to draw much interest, selling well. There was always someone lingering over them, running their fingers over the soft woven threads, admiring the intricate knots and the way the colours blended together.
Wiping her hands on her skirt, she told Xian Jun, “I’ll quickly stop by the bathhouse before heading back.”
His eyes flicked over her. “Alone?”
She pointed at the bathhouse’s tiled-domed roof they could see from where they stood. “It’s close by, and I’ll return before supper, I promise.”
He pressed his lips together, clearly weighing whether to press further.
Reiya stared back, a smile on her lips she hoped could reassure him. “I know the risks, Xian Jun. I won’t take unnecessary chances. You can stand and watch me until I reach the doors, if you’d like.”
With a short nod, he relented. “Be quick, then.”
She slipped the coins she earned today into her pouch and gathered the unfinished bracelets, setting them aside for tomorrow. As she sorted through the pile, she found the three identical bracelets.
She’d worked on them during quiet moments earlier. Her fingers moved before she fully decided what to make, selecting strands from the pile—randomly at first, before settling on earthy ochre, deep forest greens, and bold cerulean blues. She didn’t question why she reached for them, why those colours felt right, why she had no trouble assigning them their meaning.
Kaelen, bright and bold as the open sky.
Alarik, steady and grounding as the deep woods.
And herself, woven between them, as if she’d been there from the start.
The threads had twisted together in perfect harmony, each pull of the cord tightening something within her chest. She wasn’t sure whyshe made them—why the intention had planted itself so firmly, why it felt so necessary.
When she’d finished, she studied the three matching bands, running her fingers over the knots. A small thing. A quiet thing. But a bond, nonetheless.
A tether between them.
Reiya exhaled slowly, securing the bracelets in her pouch. With a final nod to Xian Jun, she set off.
The bathhouse was just ahead, flickering lantern light spilling onto the worn stone path. She focused on that instead—on the promise of warmth, of solitude, of scrubbing away more than just dust.
Washing wasn’t just a luxury tonight; it was a necessity. It meant cleansing herself, rinsing some of her Omega scent. The herbalist’s suppression remedy would help, but the oils and lotions would offer an added layer of protection.
And, if she was being honest, it gave her a reason to delay returning to the caravanserai. To delay facing Kaelen again, his earnest golden eyes and the questions she wasn’t ready to answer.
Beyond the bathhouse gates, the lively hum of the market faded into stillness. The courtyard lay quiet, its mosaic tiles glinting under the lantern light. Most patrons were likely still at the market or preparing supper—a lull that worked in her favour.
The attendant was missing. In his place, a large glass jar sat by the entrance, flames flickering against the coins inside. A neatly written note instructed patrons to leave payment before entering. She dropped a few coins in, the soft clink echoing faintly. The simplicity of the system—this quiet trust between the bathhouse and people—brought a smile to her lips.
Reiya stepped into the empty corridor, pushing open the door to the Omega changing room—expecting silence.