Chapter 6 The Touch

NAYA

"What are you doing here?" My voice is softer than I intend.

His expression does not change. "They sent me to watch you," he says. "To tell them when you wake."

A lie.

The answer is too quick, too smooth. But I do not call him on it.

Instead, I wet my lips. "Where is my fa-" I stop, correcting myself. "Where is the Alpha?"

For the briefest moment, something flickers in his expression. Amusement? No, something sharper.

"He's still downstairs."

I exhale, pressing a hand to my forehead. My head feels as though it has been stuffed with cotton. Before I can speak again, the door creaks open.

A man in healer's robes strides in. He does not acknowledge me at first-his eyes find Kael, and recognition passes between them.

"She's awake," Kael says simply.

The healer nods. He turns to me then, expression unreadable. "Drink this," he orders, offering a small vial. "It will help."

I take it hesitantly. The liquid is bitter, curling around my tongue like burnt herbs, but warmth spreads through my limbs almost instantly.

"She will be weak for a little while," the healer tells Kael, as though I am not there. "If she faints again, send for me."

Kael's jaw tightens. "She shouldn't have to go back yet."

"I am fine," I say quickly.

Kael turns to me then, his gaze a weight against my skin. "Are you?"

I look away.

The healer sighs. "She must return soon. The ceremony cannot be delayed longer."

With that, he leaves. The silence he leaves behind feels heavier than before.

Kael watches me. "Do you want to go back?"

I shake my head. "No."

A muscle in his jaw ticks. "Then why are you doing this?" His voice is quieter this time, edged with something I cannot name. "Why did you agree to marry my father?"

I hesitate.

There are a hundred answers I could give him. The kingdom. The treaty. The duty etched into my bones since birth. But when I finally speak, the words are simpler than all of them.

"For peace."

His fingers curl into fists. "You don't have to do this," he says sharply. "You don't have to give your life away."

A wry smile tugs at my lips. "I don't have a choice."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

The air between us feels charged, a storm waiting to break. Then, softer, I say, "It is my duty as princess."

Kael scoffs, as if the word offends him. "I thought someone like you would understand," I add. "Considering you are heir."

His eyes darken. "I'm not heir," he says flatly.

I blink. "But-"

"My brother is." His voice is hard now, clipped. "And even if I was, I wouldn't waste my life bending to the will of dead men."

Something about the way he says it makes my throat tighten. Before I can respond, the door opens again. A maid enters, carrying a tray. Steam rises from the bowls-a simple meal, but rich with familiar spices.

"Eat," Kael orders.

I do, more because my body demands it than because I want to. The warmth of the food settles in my stomach, clearing some of the haze in my mind.

"I am ready to go back," I say once I finish.

Kael's expression tightens. "Stay a little longer."

"I cannot."

"You should."

I lift my chin. "No."

Something unreadable flickers in his gaze. I move to sit up-and instantly regret it. My vision sways, my body tilting. A strong hand catches me before I can fall back.

Heat.

His touch is firm, his fingers pressing into my waist, steadying me. A current rushes through me, deep and sharp, curling low in my stomach.

I am breathing too fast.

He does not move.

Neither do I.

For a moment, the world shrinks to this. The press of his fingers, the scent of him-smoke and steel and something I cannot name. My pulse betrays me, hammering against my ribs.

I clear my throat, jerking away.

The veil. I reach for it, hands fumbling. I cannot see his expression, but I feel his presence shift.

"Let me," he says.

He lifts the veil to my head, fumbling the clips into my braided hair, his fingers brushing the curve of my jaw.

I still.

There is something unbearably gentle in the way he fastens it, the way his fingers linger at my temple, as though committing my shape to memory. My breath catches.

He tilts my chin up, thumb ghosting over my cheek. "You are beautiful."

It is not flirtation. It is not even admiration. It is something raw, something almost reverent.

A lump rises in my throat. I should not feel guilty. I should not feel anything.

But I do.

My breath stutters, my vision blurring.

He frowns. "Why are you crying?"

I shake my head. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing."

I close my eyes. If I speak, my voice will crack.

Warm fingers brush away the tears before they can fall.

And then-

The door slams open.

I stiffen.

Alpha Drunei, my fake father, storms in, his presence swallowing the room whole. His gaze lands on me, hard and assessing.

"No more theatrics," he snaps. "You will do your duty."

I force my shoulders straight.

He holds out a hand.

I take it.

And let him lead me back into the darkness.