The rain never stopped in the Veiled Vale, and tonight, it wept harder than Kael could remember. Lightning cracked through the distant peaks, casting flickering shadows across the crumbling sanctuary walls. Kael stood at the arched window, one hand pressed to his growing belly, the other clenched around a worn letter—a missive he never should have read.
Elias's forced bond with another fae prince. Sealed in blood.
A political move. A secret he had never shared.
Betrayal bloomed like poison in Kael's chest.
He remembered their nights, the way Elias would whisper his name like a promise into the crook of his neck. He remembered the silken words of devotion, the pulse beneath his lips, the feral possessiveness Elias had shown every time they came together in fire and sweat and need. But now, all of it felt like a lie.
Kael's breath hitched, and the storm outside answered his rage with a thunderous boom.
"You knew," he whispered to the silence, to the empty room that still smelled faintly of Elias's scent.
A creak behind him. Kael didn't flinch.
"I should've known you'd come," Kael said coldly, not turning.
Elias's voice was low. "Kael…"
"Don't," Kael snapped, turning to face him. His eyes glowed faintly—his bloodline reacting to the emotional turmoil. "How long were you going to hide it from me? Until the wedding? Or after I gave birth to a child born into your political mess?"
Elias stepped forward. Rain dripped from his cloak, but his crimson eyes never wavered. "It was made before I knew you. Before I knew what fate had truly chosen."
Kael laughed, bitter. "And yet, you still kissed me like I was your only truth."
Silence. Heavy. Painful.
"I broke that bond when I met you," Elias said softly. "And my father nearly killed me for it."
Kael looked down. The child stirred. Magic pulsed faintly through his womb.
"You expect me to trust you again?"
"I expect to earn it back."
Kael's fingers loosened on the letter, letting it fall.
Then Elias was in front of him, fire in his eyes, and without waiting, he crushed Kael against the stone wall, lips devouring his protest.
The kiss was war. A fight for forgiveness. A plea. A claim.
Kael didn't resist.
Because even broken, trust could still ache with longing.
Their bodies collided, heat searing through drenched fabric. Elias stripped Kael with practiced reverence, as if his penance lay in every touch. Kael's moans were sharp with anger, sweet with want. Every bite, every thrust, every fevered cry was a symphony of betrayal and love, of hurt and desperate lust.
By the time Elias whispered his name again, hoarse with need and remorse, Kael no longer knew if the tears on his cheeks were from rage or pleasure.
When they collapsed together on the rain-slicked stone, Elias buried his face in Kael's hair.
"I will never lie to you again."
"You already did," Kael whispered.
But he didn't push him away.
And somewhere inside him, the child stirred again—magic drawn to love.