POV: Soraya
The dunes opened before us like an ocean of gold, rolling endlessly beneath the morning sun. Ashra’s stone towers rose in the distance—familiar, intimidating, heavy with memories I didn’t want and ones I wished I never lost. My heart thudded against my ribs as we approached the gates, but Kaide’s calm presence beside me steadied the trembling in my hands.
“You don’t have to force yourself,” Kaide murmured as our horses slowed to a halt. “If this becomes too much, we leave. Zehrael will follow your lead, not the other way around.”
“I’m not afraid,” I said.
It was a lie.
But I had become good at lies lately.
The gates opened with loud groaning metal, and Ashra warriors stepped aside. Their eyes widened as they recognized me—some shocked, some uncertain, some even showing hints of respect.
And then Vienne burst forward.
“Soraya!”
I barely had a moment to breathe before she wrapped her arms around me, shaking with relief.
“You look—spirits above—you look alive,” she breathed.
“Last I checked,” I managed. “Though a few arrows tried to change that.”
She swatted my arm gently and then pulled me in again, refusing to let go until Tazir came forward, clearing his throat.
“Let her breathe, Vienne,” he said.
Vienne didn’t release me but shifted to glare at Tazir. “I’ll breathe when she breathes. And she wasn’t breathing for a full year.”
I laughed softly despite the knot in my chest. Tazir approached and bowed his head respectfully—something he had never done before.
“Zehrael Luna,” he said.
I sighed. “Don’t you start.”
He smiled faintly. “Very well. Soraya.”
Kaide squeezed my shoulder. “We’re here for a purpose. Let’s find Raevan.”
Vienne’s expression tightened. “He knows already. Someone informed him the moment you crossed the dunes. He’s in the high hall.”
Tazir added, “Be careful. He hasn’t been himself lately. Too many storms in one man.”
A shadow tightened around my ribs. I nodded.
“Then let’s get this over with.”
We walked through Ashra’s winding hallways, where every stone and torch whispered memories. Memories of fear. Anger. Hope.
Raevan.
The high hall came into view. Two guards stepped aside silently. And then—He turned.
For a heartbeat, there was no sound. No movement. Nothing but Raevan standing in the center of the chamber, eyes widening as if he had seen a ghost… again.
“...Soraya.”
His voice fractured, raw and unguarded.
I lifted my chin. “Raevan.”
Kaide stepped closer to me, a quiet wall of support. I felt his presence; Raevan noticed too, because his eyes flicked to Kaide with a flash of something dangerous. Possessive. Old.
“Why are you here?” Raevan asked, breath uneven.
“For war,” I said bluntly.
His jaw clenched. “Zehrael already made its stance clear.”
“Yes,” I replied. “But Zehrael can’t fight alone.”
A heavy silence fell.
Raevan shook his head slowly. “You know what you’re asking.”
“I do.”
“And you know what the answer could cost.”
“I do.”
He stepped one pace closer. The air shifted, thickened, sparked. My pulse jumped, but I kept my expression neutral.
“Why me?” he asked quietly. “Why Ashra? You could have gone to any other pack.”
“Because I trust Ashra,” I said. “And because you’re the only one strong enough to face Saren’s armies.”
He stared at me as if he couldn’t decide whether to be furious or relieved.
“You trust Ashra?” he whispered. “After everything you said? After everything that happened?”
I didn’t look away. “I trust you.”
That broke something in him. His shoulders dropped, just a fraction, but the change was unmistakable.
Kaide shifted beside me, watching Raevan carefully.
Vienne exhaled behind us, whispering, “Goddess…”
Raevan swallowed hard. “Soraya… I can’t give you a quick answer.”
“You don’t have time for slow ones,” I said. “Zehrael needs allies. If we fall, Saren will take everything. Including Ashra. You know Zarek won’t stop until the whole desert kneels.”
Raevan’s thumbs brushed the edges of his cloak. A sign of turmoil.
He stepped closer again, eyes fixed on mine.
“Tell me the real reason,” he said softly. “The one you didn’t say. You came to me personally— not an envoy, not Baltimus’s messengers.”
I stiffened.
Behind me, Kaide’s breath hitched. Vienne shot him a warning glance.
Raevan’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Say it.”
I swallowed. “I came because I trust you more than anyone else.”
Something like pain flickered in his gaze.
“Don’t say that,” he said quietly. “Not when I can’t—”
“I’m not here for us,” I cut in sharply.
His breath stilled.
“I’m here for Zehrael,” I continued. “For Baltimus. For the wolves who believe in me. For the ones who died.”
The ones who were dying without reason.
I steadied my breathing.
“I need Ashra’s support. Otherwise, bloodshed will swallow the desert.”
Raevan stared at me for a long time. Too long. The tension pulled the air tight and painful.
Finally, he spoke.
“I should say no.”
My heart dropped.
But then he stepped forward and stopped only inches away.
“But I can’t.”
I froze.
“Not to you,” he whispered. “Not when you look at me like that. Not when you stand here asking me for the one thing you think I can give.”
His eyes darkened—deep, stormy, overwhelming.
“Ashra will support Zehrael,” he said finally.
A breath escaped my chest. Relief, sharp and trembling.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
His jaw flexed. “Don’t thank me yet.”
Kaide stepped forward, offering Raevan a formal nod. “Ashra and Zehrael stand together.”
Raevan didn’t look at him. His eyes never left mine.
“Whatever comes next,” he said quietly, “don’t face it alone. Even if you try.”
“I’m not alone,” I said. “I have Zehrael. I have my pack.”
“And you have me,” he said.
My breath tangled.
Vienne murmured behind me, “Oh spirits…”
I turned away abruptly, refusing to let him see how his words shook me.
“This alliance is political,” I said coldly. “Nothing else.”
Raevan didn’t argue. He didn’t need to. The storm in his eyes said everything.
Kaide placed a steady hand on my back.
“Let’s go,” he said gently.
We walked out of the hall, leaving Raevan standing alone.
But I felt it—his gaze following me the whole way out, burning through my spine, leaving marks I didn’t want.
Marks I thought I buried a year ago.
Marks that suddenly felt alive again.