Su Lian waved a hand, lips curving in the faintest smile. “No debts between family. Just keep an eye on him.”
Ru Rong huffed. “And don’t thank us yet. He still has to wake up.” But her eyes softened, betraying the quiet hope they all carried.
Reiya looked down at Kaelen. “He will,” she murmured. “He has to.”
Su Lian squeezed her shoulder gently before gathering Mei Mei,who had dozed off in the corner, small limbs curled tightly from the fear and fatigue of the night. The child stirred, rubbing at her eyes as she was carried from the wagon.
Alarik stepped inside fully, the door clicking shut behind him, and silence settled over the small space.
Before he could speak, Reiya moved.
She crossed the space between them in a heartbeat and wrapped her arms around him—tightly, as if her body could make sense of the fear her mind hadn’t yet processed. He stiffened beneath her hold, startled—but then she felt it: the slow, grounding exhale that loosened his frame, the tentative press of his palms against her back, then firmer. Steady.
She pressed her face into the curve of his shoulder, breathing in the scent of ash and sweat and something unmistakably him. The tension she’d worn like armour cracked. Her knees almost buckled from the relief of it.
He was warm. Solid. Alive.
“You’re safe,” she whispered. “You’resafe.”
And only then, with her face tucked against his collar and her fingers curled into his tunic, did she finally let the fear fall away. His fingers drifted through her hair, brushing out the tangles with a tenderness that made her pulse falter.
“You shouldn’t have worried about me,” he murmured, voice rough at the edges. “Kaelen needed you more.”
She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “How could I not worry?” Her hands remained against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath her palms. The emotions swirling in his golden gaze—relief, exhaustion—clogged her throat. “You were out there for so long. I thought . . .”
She shook her head, swallowing the rest.
“I’m here,” he murmured, steady despite the weight in his eyes. “I promised you, didn’t I?”
A tremulous smile flickered across her lips.
He turned toward the cot, his boots scuffing softly against the wooden floor. He crouched beside Kaelen, scanning his brother’s too-pale face, lingering on the faint glow of the Sunborn tattoo.
“How is he, truly?”
She hesitated, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face. “We purged as much venom as we could, but some has spread. He’s lost so much blood.” She glanced down at Kaelen, tone softening. “But I know he’ll make it. He’s strong.”
Alarik gave a faint nod, though his eyes never left Kaelen’s face. “Sandshrike venom kills within minutes. If Kaelen wasn’t a Sunborn Alpha . . .”
He trailed off, the unspoken truth settling between them.
She saw the tension in his jaw, the way his hands curled into fists against his thighs. His focus had turned inward, distant, as though he were trapped in a memory he didn’t want to revisit.
“I should’ve gone with him,” he murmured, his palm rubbing his forehead. “Protected him better. If I’d been there, I might’ve sensed Jodhar. I might’ve pushed him out of the way.”
She touched his arm. “He was shot because he protected me. What happened is more my fault than it is yours. If I hadn’t followed him, if I hadn’t distracted him?—”
“No.” His voice was firm, his eyes lifting to hers. “Protecting you is his pride. You can’t blame yourself for this.”
“Yet you blame yourself?” she asked, gentle but pointed. “You forgive me, but can’t do the same for yourself?”
Something in him shifted. Just for a moment, his composure cracked—subtle, but enough for her to see it. In the low flicker of lamplight, the mask he always wore slipped, revealing something raw beneath. Not just guilt. Not just weariness. It was a quiet kind of anguish, old and deeply buried.
“It’s not the first time he’s nearly died from an arrow,” he said, his voice low, almost hollow.
The words hit with a quiet force. Her breath caught. “What do you mean?”
He didn’t answer at first. Instead, he dragged a hand through his hair, the movement sharp, almost agitated. His eyes shifted to Kaelen—still and pale beneath the blankets—and softened in a way that tugged at her chest. It seemed easier for him to speak to hisunconscious brother than to her, the truth loosening only when it wasn’t met with watching eyes.