Page 16

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

The tension in the air is a tangible thing, thick and suffocating. Solan’s hands are clenched into fists at his sides, his golden eyes blazing as he glares at the Glowranth prince. His entire body is practically vibrating with suppressed fury. I can feel his emotions through our bond, the raw mix of protectiveness and rage like a wildfire threatening to consume him.

“Solan, calm down,” I murmur, though my voice is tight. I don’t know who I’m trying to reassure—him or myself.

“Calm?” His voice, low and dangerous, feels like a warning growl. “He thinks you’re his fated mate. You . ”

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us who think it’s bullshit,” I snap back, but my throat feels dry.

The Glowranth prince, tall and elegant in that unnervingly monstrous way, watches me with narrowed eyes. His skin, that deep, dark blue that gleams faintly in the dim light, practically pulses with a faint bioluminescent glow along the ridges of his arms. The effect is both hypnotic and infuriating.

“It’s not bullshit,” he says, his voice smooth and cool, conveying just the right amount of condescension to make me want to punch him. “You carry his blood.”

I glance down at my shirt, still stained from when we found the human man—the blood that I put there to rub the red stains off my hands. Realisation dawns, and a wave of awkward heat creeps up my neck.

“Wait, you think this blood is mine?” I bark out a laugh, the sound a little more frantic than I’d like. “Oh, mate, you’ve got it all wrong.”

The prince’s lips curl into a faint, disdainful smile. “Do I? You wield fire. You’re strong. Stronger than any other human I’ve seen. Only someone worthy of my bloodline could?—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I hold up a hand, cutting him off. “First of all, thanks for the compliment, Your Highness .” Sarcasm drips from my tone. “Second, this isn’t my blood. It’s from the guy we just found. Y’know, the unconscious, dehydrated bloke in his boxers.”

The prince’s sharp features tighten into an imperious glare, but before he can snap back, his bodyguard steps forwards.

The bodyguard is a beast of a Glowranth. Where the prince is lean and graceful, this one is towering and broad, his blue skin a shade darker, his glowing markings subtler, almost hidden in the shadow of his massive frame. His voice, when he speaks, is a low rumble in their native language.

I glance at Solan for a translation, but I don’t need to ask. His voice slips into my mind, warm and steady.

“He’s saying that it’s possible you’re telling the truth. The prince shouldn’t make rash assumptions.”

The prince snaps something back in Glowranthian, and for a moment, the two of them argue, their voices a mix of sharp and guttural tones.

“What’s he saying now?” I ask, casting a wary glance between them.

“He says it’s impossible for the human you found to be his fated,” Solan replies aloud, his voice tinged with irritation. “He’s basing that on….” Solan pauses, then lets out a scoffing laugh. “On your strength. He thinks you’re too strong to not be his fated.”

I gape at him. “Are you serious? What kind of logic is that?”

The bodyguard cuts through the prince’s tirade with a firm, measured response in English. “My prince,” he says, his voice deep but calm, “there is merit in his words. If the blood is not his, we must consider that the human he speaks of is the one you seek.”

I blink in surprise at the sudden switch to English. Solan arches a brow, clearly as taken aback as I am.

“Wait, you speak English?” I ask, though why I’m surprised, since the prince spoke English better than some Aussies I know, is beyond me.

The bodyguard inclines his head slightly. “I do. My name is Kael.”

“Well, Kael,” I say, pointing at him with a faint smirk, “you’re already my favourite Glowranth in this conversation.”

The prince bristles at that, his bioluminescent markings flaring slightly.

Solan, though still fuming, lets out a quiet snort at my attempt at humour. “Careful,” he says in my mind, his voice tinged with reluctant amusement. “You’re going to make him jealous.”

Kael steps forwards, his massive frame casting a shadow over the prince. “We must consider what is best for all involved,” he says firmly. “If the human you found truly carries your bond, then they are in danger. The queen will stop at nothing to claim them for her own purposes.”

The mention of the queen sends a ripple of unease through the group. Even the prince’s arrogance falters slightly, his expression tightening.

“Hold on,” I say, stepping closer, “didn’t you disappear? Everyone thought you’d been sucked into a merge. But you… you ran, didn’t you?”

The prince’s sharp gaze locks onto mine, and for the first time, there’s something other than haughtiness in his expression. There’s anger, yes, but also something raw.

“I left,” he admits, his voice low, “to find my fated. To find them before my mother did.”

The admission hangs heavy in the air, and for a moment, the tension shifts.

Kael nods, his glowing markings pulsing faintly. “We have been tracking them since the last rift,” he says. “Not the one from earlier today.”

I control my expression, aware that the last merge before today’s was the one I came through. It must mean more than one happened at the same time. I wonder if that’s happened before.

“We have always been a step behind.” His gaze flicks to my bloodstained shirt. “This is the first sign we’re close.”

Shanae, who’s been quiet during the exchange, steps forwards. “So you want your human?” she asks, her tone sharp. “We can’t take him to the camp. It’s too dangerous.” She glances at her team.

“That’s not your decision to make,” the prince snaps, his arrogance back in full force.

“Actually,” Shanae retorts, crossing her arms, “it kind of is. See, I’m the one who’s responsible for keeping this group alive. And if you think I’m just going to hand over a Riftborn to you, you’ve got another think coming, Your Highness .”

I’m pretty sure she’s taking the piss with that emphasis, just like I did.

A faint smile tugs at my lips. Shanae’s got guts, I’ll give her that.

“What do you want, then? In exchange?” the prince demands, his bioluminescent markings flaring brightly.

The fuck? “What the actual fuck? You think you can bargain your way to get your hands on a human? Mate, you are responsible for a whole lot of bullshit surrounding Riftborn.”

He snaps his teeth at me, and Solan steps close, releasing a deep, threatening growl.

Kael intervenes. “What Prince Aelith is most concerned about is his fated’s health. Their well-being. He has no desire to use them or exchange them or even barter for them. He wants them safe and well and to have the opportunity to know them.”

The prince stiffens at Kael’s words, his lips pressing into a thin line, but he doesn’t refute them.

Honestly, I’m impressed as hell with Kael. It’s not every day you meet someone who can smooth over a Glowranth prince’s ego while also diffusing a tense standoff.

“You think he’s telling the truth?” I ask Solan through our bond, my thoughts dripping with scepticism.

“Glowranth, especially those of the royal guard, pride themselves on their integrity,” Solan replies, his mental tone even, but there’s a hint of tension beneath the surface.

I scoff aloud before responding through the bond. “Integrity? Really? Even though they’re responsible for kidnapping Riftborn and hand-delivering them to their queen? Doesn’t exactly scream ‘moral high ground’ to me.”

Solan’s golden gaze flicks to me, his jaw tightening slightly. “Their role is to serve their queen, their queendom. As such, they believe they are upholding their integrity by following orders. It’s deeply ingrained in their culture.”

“So kidnapping innocent people is just another day at the office for them?” My scathing tone filters easily into our bond. “Great. Love that for us.”

Kael’s deep voice pulls me back to the present. “The prince has no intention of harming anyone here,” he says, glancing pointedly at Solan before his gaze shifts to me. “And while I cannot speak for the queen’s actions, I can assure you that my prince’s motivations are his own.”

“And what are his motivations?” I ask sharply, my rifle still angled protectively in front of me.

Aelith’s gaze locks onto mine, sharp and unyielding. “I will not allow harm to come to them,” he says, his voice low but full of conviction. “Not to my fated.”

“Right,” I say, crossing my arms. “And what if your fated has no interest in you? What if they”—I use the pronoun deliberately, certain the prince doesn’t even know the gender of his fated—“don’t want to be here? What if?—”

“Enough.” Kael’s voice cuts through my tirade, not loudly but with enough authority to make me pause. He sighs, a sound that’s almost human in its exasperation. “Prince Aelith, perhaps now is not the time for declarations. If we are to gain their trust, we must first work together.”

The prince bristles but says nothing, his glowing markings dimming slightly as he visibly reins himself in.

Shanae steps forwards, her voice cutting through the tense silence like a blade. “Here’s the deal,” she says, her tone brisk but unyielding. “We’re taking you to our headquarters. You’ll wear blindfolds to ensure the location stays secure. Once there, you can speak to our leader directly. We’ll also check on the human we found, make sure they’re coherent and healthy, and get them up to speed on what’s going on, once they’re awake and well enough.”

Kael inclines his head, the glow along his skin dimming slightly as he considers the proposal. His gaze shifts briefly to Aelith, whose bioluminescence flares in protest.

“You expect me to trust you enough to blindfold me?” Aelith snaps, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Yes,” Shanae replies bluntly. “Because if you don’t, you’ll have to figure out another way to deal with getting to your fated and keeping them away from your mom. Good luck with that.”

Aelith’s jaw tightens, his teeth slightly bared, but Kael intervenes again, his calm and steady presence a stark contrast to the prince’s fiery arrogance.

“My prince,” Kael says in Glowranthian, which Solan continues to translate for me, the guard’s voice low and firm, “this is a reasonable compromise. We need their cooperation as much as they need ours. For your fated’s sake, let’s proceed.”

Aelith mutters something under his breath that sounds distinctly unflattering, but he finally relents with a sharp nod. “Fine. But if this is a trick?—”

“It’s not,” I cut in, tired of the back-and-forth. “We just want answers, the same as you.”

Kael’s gaze flickers to me, and there’s something almost like respect in his expression. “We’ll comply.”

“Good,” Shanae says briskly, clearly done with the posturing. “Let’s move. The route’s going to be complicated, so keep up.”

The journey back is a tense one. We’re all aware we’ve not found the rift’s location or anyone who came through it. There’s no doubt that we all agree that this new development is more important, though.

Shanae leads us through a deliberately convoluted path, weaving through dense, thorny underbrush and terrain that shifts unpredictably. At one point, we cross a shallow stream, the cool water a brief respite from the oppressive heat of the forest.

Jamie clings to Calythra’s side, his small face pinched with fear but resolute. I catch his gaze and try to smile reassuringly, but the ball of dread in my gut only tightens. How much more can he endure? How much longer before this world breaks him—or worse?

Through our bond, Solan’s voice cuts through my spiralling thoughts. “You’re worrying again.”

“Of course I’m worrying,” I reply, glancing back at Jamie as he stumbles slightly, Calythra steadying him with a gentle hand. “He’s been through hell. I don’t know what kind of life he’s going to have here—or if we’ll ever get him home.”

Solan’s golden eyes meet mine briefly, filled with quiet determination. “He’s strong. And he has you. That’s more than most in this world.”

The thought warms me slightly, but the ball of dread doesn’t entirely dissipate.

Once we reach a particularly dense grove, Shanae orders the prince and Kael to be blindfolded. Kael complies without protest, his calm acceptance once again impressive. Aelith, on the other hand, snarls in irritation but ultimately allows it.

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” he mutters as the blindfold is tied around his glowing face.

“Not nearly as much as you think,” I reply dryly, though I don’t bother hiding my smirk, given that the prince can’t see it.

Jamie stays close, his small hand brushing mine occasionally as we move. I squeeze his fingers briefly in reassurance, but my mind is spinning. Aelith’s arrogance aside, the idea of having the queen’s son—even one who’s apparently on the run from her—on the same side could change everything for the rebellion.

Through our bond, I reach out to Solan again. “Do you think this could work? Having him on our side?”

Solan doesn’t respond immediately, his thoughts cautious. “It’s possible. If he’s willing to stand against his mother, he could be the leverage we need to end the kidnapping and forced servitude of Riftborns.”

The term “servitude” stings, but it’s an undeniable truth. If there’s a chance to change that….

“And if he’s not willing?” I ask.

Solan’s mental voice turns sharp. “Then we’ll find another way. But for now, we focus on getting him—and us—safely to headquarters.”

The sun dips low as we finally approach the hidden rebel base, the dense forest opening into a concealed entrance carved into the side of a cliff. The air is cooler here, the shadows longer.

As we remove the prince’s and Kael’s blindfolds, Aelith glares at me, his bioluminescence flaring faintly. “Is this where you plan to keep me prisoner?” he sneers.

“Relax,” I say with a sigh, not even sure why he’s speaking to me since I’m not in charge of this shitshow. “No one’s keeping anyone prisoner. We’re just trying to figure out what the hell’s going on—and make sure your fated is okay.”

At the mention of his fated, Aelith’s expression tightens, but he doesn’t respond.

We enter the converted bowling alley. The air inside is cool and damp, the faint smell of mildew lingering beneath the metallic tang of supplies and machinery. It’s an odd mix of comfort and chaos, but it’s safer than anything out in the wilds.

The human we found isn’t in the main area. I excuse myself from the group, unable to shake the thought of him lying unconscious. If he’s awake, he’ll need to see another human—someone familiar, or at least not a… well, a monster.

I find him in one of the side rooms, a small infirmary lit by soft, flickering lanterns. He’s still unconscious, his pale face slack against the pillow beneath him. My years as a firefighter have taught me enough first aid to do a basic check, and what I find makes my stomach churn. He’s malnourished, his skin drawn tight over his cheekbones, and his cracked lips scream dehydration.

“Is he stable?” I ask, my voice low to avoid disturbing the quiet.

A creature is working at his side, attaching a drip with deft movements of clawed hands. The creature is squat and hunched with mottled green skin and a trio of beady black eyes. It looks up at me briefly, emitting a low series of clicks.

To my surprise, Solan’s voice echoes in my mind. “She says the human will recover. The drip contains nutrients and rehydration fluids. Someone called Sonny, another human, has been tasked to look out for him.”

I blink at the new information. There are more humans here? My heart picks up a little. I nod at the mottled-skin creature who’s clearly taking good care of the unconscious man. “Thanks.”

She inclines her head slightly, then returns to her work, her focus impeccable.

I leave the infirmary and return to the main area, where Aelith stands, his arms folded, in front of Varek. The leader is leaning casually against the counter of what was once the bowling alley’s snack bar, but his sharp eyes are locked onto the prince like those of a predator sizing up its prey.

Aelith refuses to speak, his entire demeanour a fortress of stubborn silence. But as soon as he sees me, his glowing eyes snap to mine, and his rigid posture softens, just slightly.

“They’re unconscious,” I report, loud enough for everyone to hear, and still holding back the guy’s gender (assuming they identify as male, that is). “But they’re stable for now. Malnourished and dehydrated, but one of the medics is taking care of them. They’ll pull through.”

For a moment, Aelith doesn’t move. Then his shoulders drop a fraction, and the tension in his jaw eases. His relief is palpable even if he’d probably rather die than admit it outright.

Kael, standing a few steps behind him, catches my eye and gives a small nod of approval.

Varek raises a brow, his expression caught somewhere between curiosity and amusement. “So, royal brat, ready to talk now? Or do I need to get more humans to give you updates?”

Aelith bristles at the nickname, but he doesn’t rise to the bait. “I’m here to ensure my fated’s safety,” he says, his voice clipped. “If that means answering your questions, so be it.”

His words surprise me, but even more surprising is the faint flicker of vulnerability beneath the arrogance. Maybe—just maybe—having him on board could actually work.

Later that night, after the initial chaos has settled, Solan and I sit outside, not too far away from the bowling alley, the quiet hum of the forest surrounding us. Jamie is safely asleep, and for the first time in hours, I feel like I can breathe.

Solan sits close, his presence grounding. His hand brushes mine, and I feel the steady warmth of his emotions through our bond—love, protectiveness, a quiet determination to see this through.

“You’re thinking too much again,” he says, a teasing edge to his mental voice.

“Can you blame me? This is all….” I gesture vaguely, letting the bond carry my tangled thoughts. “A lot.” And that includes meeting Sonny, the Aussie who found himself here so long ago that it itches my brain.

Solan chuckles, the sound deep and rich. “It’s a lot. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

I turn to him, the weight of everything we’ve been through settling heavily on my shoulders. “You really believe that?”

He cups my face gently, his golden eyes locking onto mine. “I do. Because no matter what happens, we have each other. And that’s enough for me.”

The sincerity in his voice steals my breath, and for a moment, the chaos of the day fades away. His hand on my face feels grounding, anchoring me in the present when everything else seems to be spinning out of control.

“Okay,” I say softly, leaning into his touch. “Together.”

Solan’s lips twitch, his expression softening but still carrying that signature intensity. “If it bleeds, we can kill it.” The Arnie quote is delivered with a dramatic edge, his accent adding an unintentionally charming flourish.

I blink, caught completely off-guard. “Seriously? You’re quoting Predator at me right now?”

He grins, unapologetic. “It felt appropriate. Besides, you like when I reference Earth movies. Admit it.”

A laugh bubbles out of me, easing some of the tension coiled in my chest. “I don’t know whether to kiss you or smack you.”

“Both are acceptable,” he replies smoothly, his golden eyes sparking with mischief. His hand trails down my face to brush my jaw, his touch igniting a shiver. “Though I’d prefer the first option.”

“You’re unbelievable,” I mutter, shaking my head, though a small smile pulls at my lips.

“Unbelievably yours,” he counters, the playful tone giving way to something deeper, more serious.

And damn it if that doesn’t make my chest tighten.

Before I can reply, his expression shifts again, his gaze dipping lower as if cataloguing every inch of me. “An orgasm might help with the tension,” he says, his voice low and teasing.

“Bold of you to assume I’ve got the energy for that,” I shoot back, though the heat creeping up my neck betrays me.

“True,” he muses, his mental voice brushing against my mind like a caress. “But maybe later, when we’ve survived this madness. I can think of plenty of ways to … relax you.”

His words send a delicious pulse of anticipation down my spine, and my mind betrays me with a flash of imagery: his body beneath mine, the faint glow of his horn lighting our skin as I ri?—

Nope. Not now. I slam the mental door on that thought so fast, it could’ve singed me. “File that under ‘things to revisit when we’re not on a queen’s hit list.’”

His chuckle echoes warmly in my mind. “Filed. But for the record, you’d look stunning.”

“Shut up,” I say, though the warmth spreading in my chest makes it hard to sound annoyed.

Calythra’s voice cuts through the moment like a whip, coming through the doorway of the building we’re staying in tonight. “If you two are done flirting, some of us are trying to sleep before tomorrow’s shitshow begins.”

I stifle a groan, clambering to my feet and adjusting my jeans. “Right. Sleep.”

Solan’s smirk is pure mischief as he stands and leans in close, his voice a private murmur meant for my ears alone. “But remember, after this is over, I’ll be back. ”

I groan audibly this time, unable to help the laugh that bubbles out of me. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m yours,” he counters simply, his eyes glinting with a promise that warms me to my core.

As we head inside, his hand brushes mine briefly, a touch meant to steady us both. Whatever happens next, I know one thing for sure: We’ll face it together.