Page 9 of Her Fated Alpha Prince (Royal Dragons of Blackwater Islands #1)

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ARIANA

She didn’t sleep.

After Kael left, Ariana sat curled in the armchair by the window, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders like armor.

The moon had dipped low behind the trees, and still her pulse thudded unevenly, echoing the imprint of his mouth against hers.

Her skin tingled with it—like her body hadn’t gotten the message her mind had shouted: walk away.

She had. But gods, it had nearly broken something.

She stared out at the garden, the flowers still glowing faintly in the dark.

The blossoms looked otherworldly, too alive.

They didn’t sway in the wind; they listened to it.

And ever since the dream, she couldn’t look at them without feeling the strange ache in her chest—the same one that had started the moment Kael had spoken her name in that ruined chapel.

Everything was changing too fast. The world here didn’t just run on different rules. It seemed to rewrite hers with every breath she took.

Her fingers tightened around the porcelain cup of tea she hadn’t touched. Cold now. Forgotten.

It wasn’t just him. It wasn’t just the kiss.

Though that alone could have kept her spinning for hours—because she had kissed him back.

Because for all the ways he terrified her, she wanted more.

She craved the truth in his silence, the weight of his presence, even the way he made her feel like she was standing too close to the edge of something vast.

She got up, abandoning the blanket, and padded barefoot across the cool stone floor to the open archway. The night air wrapped around her, warm and fragrant. Something in it hummed with quiet anticipation.

The garden whispered.

Not in words. Not out loud. But something pulled her forward—just enough for her to follow the curve of the path to a cluster of flowering vines she hadn’t noticed before.

They shimmered faintly, leaves catching the moonlight like silver threads.

One bloom pulsed with light as she neared. Soft and steady. Like a heartbeat.

Ariana knelt beside it.

The petals shifted toward her, glowing brighter. She reached out, breath catching, and brushed the edge of a single petal.

The world tilted .

Images slammed into her. Not hers. Not from any dream she could recall. A vast temple beneath a red moon. Blood on the stone floor. A woman with silver eyes standing barefoot in a circle of flame, arms raised to the sky. And in the distance—screams. Not of pain. Of power.

Then darkness.

Ariana fell back onto the grass with a sharp gasp, her pulse a wild, galloping thing inside her chest.

“What the hell—”

“Careful,” said a voice, low and unfamiliar, but laced with something old.

She spun, breath caught in her throat.

A figure stepped from the shadow of the trees. Elder Varos.

He didn’t look surprised to see her.

Elder Varos moved with deliberate slowness, his hands visible, palms open at his sides. No threat, and yet Ariana’s entire body tensed like a string pulled taut.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, voice soft as rustling leaves. “But you shouldn’t touch the nightbloom vine. Not unprepared.”

Ariana pushed herself to her feet, trying to steady her breathing. “It showed me something.”

“I know.”

Her stomach twisted. “What was it?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied her face as though weighing what kind of truth she was ready for. The silence stretched, thick and buzzing, before he finally spoke.

“The vine is sacred. It only responds to bloodlines that carry the old fire.”

Ariana blinked. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he said, stepping closer, “you’re not here by accident. The jungle recognizes you because you belong to it. Whether you remember or not.”

She shook her head. “I don’t belong here. I’m just… I was just dragged here. I’m nobody.”

“You’re far from nobody,” he said gently. “And you weren’t dragged. You were brought.”

Ariana folded her arms over her chest, resisting the urge to back away. “By Kael?”

“No,” Varos said. “By fate. Or by something older still.”

She swallowed hard. “You left the note. The warning.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because Seryna watches everyone. But you most of all. And because I know what it’s like to wake up in a world that doesn’t make sense. Where the rules you lived by fall apart.”

She studied his face. There were lines at the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t seem old—not in the mortal way. There was something unyielding about him, like a statue carved from the jungle itself.

“You said the jungle recognizes me. Why?”

He hesitated.

“She wasn’t supposed to wake yet,” he murmured, mostly to himself. Then louder: “Because the last to bear the fire before you disappeared. She was born of two realms, and so are you.”

“I’m not—”

“You are. You’ve felt it already, haven’t you? The pull, the heat under your skin, the dreams.”

Ariana’s mouth was dry. “I thought I was going crazy.”

He looked at her with something close to compassion. “No, Ariana. You’re waking up.”

She stared past him to the glowing flowers. “What happens now?”

“That depends on you. The fire changes everything it touches. And once it starts… it does not stop.”

The word fire echoed inside her, not like sound but like a bell ringing in her chest.

“Kael knows something,” she said suddenly.

Varos nodded. “He knows more than he wants to.”

“Can I trust him?”

Another pause. “That’s the wrong question. You want to trust him. But you need to decide whether you’ll trust yourself .”

Ariana’s breath caught.

“Your instincts. Your power. Your past. All of it is rising. And soon, you won’t be able to hide it—even if you try.”

The wind stirred again, warm and alive, brushing against Ariana’s face like a breath. It carried the scent of the strange flowers—sweet, sharp, almost metallic. Her thoughts whirled.

“What do I do now?” she asked quietly.

Varos stepped back, his expression unreadable. “You listen. You feel. And you stay silent.”

She frowned. “Why silent?”

“Because they’re watching. And if they suspect how quickly you’re changing, they’ll act. Some will want to use you. Some will want to end you.” His gaze sharpened. “Neither will ask permission.”

Ariana swallowed hard, her fingers curling into the hem of her tunic.

“Why me?”

Varos only gave a small, sad smile. “The world has always bled through cracks. You are one of them.”

Then he turned and walked into the trees, vanishing into shadow like a trick of the light.

Ariana stood there, rooted, her breath coming too fast. The jungle didn’t feel hostile. It felt… awake. Waiting. As if it expected something from her she didn’t know how to give.

She turned back toward the villa. Her feet moved without thought, but the tension stayed with her, a thread of fire wound tight through her veins.

When she entered the room again, the air felt different. Charged.

She closed the archway doors, drew the curtain, and collapsed onto the bed. Not to sleep—sleep was gone—but to think . To try and pin her mind to something real. Concrete.

The note. The fire. The way the plants had turned to her.

And Kael. Always Kael.

She hated how much he haunted her thoughts. Hated that his presence in her mind wasn’t just about attraction—it was connected . Somehow, he was part of all this. Part of her waking up.

But he wasn’t telling her anything.

He’d warned her, called her dangerous, and then pulled back. Always just enough to keep her unsure. Always just enough to make her want .

She rolled over, staring at the high ceiling. “What the hell am I?” she whispered to the dark.

No answer came. But her body thrummed like a plucked string, the memory of the dream, the flowers, the voice echoing still.

Remember who you are.

She didn’t know who that was.

Not yet.

But something inside her stirred in response, ancient and hot and pulsing with promise.

Not fear. Not anymore.

Something bigger .

And for the first time since waking in this place, Ariana didn’t feel like a prisoner.

She felt like a fuse.

Waiting.

Ready.

Lit.