CHAPTER 48 — The Kiss That Shouldn’t Happen

POV: Soraya

The oasis garden was the only place in the entire fortress where I could breathe. At least, that’s what I told myself when I slipped past the guards and ducked under the carved archway, desperate for silence. The air here always moved differently—cooler, softer, threaded with the scent of mint and desert blossoms. Moonlight shimmered across the shallow pools, turning the water into sheets of silver.

My tears ruined the peacefulness.

I wiped them quickly, angry at myself.

Zarek’s thoughts still echoed in the back of my mind like claws scraping stone. Mine. She will kneel. The stream had gone quiet since then, but the aftershock of it lingered inside me like a bruise.

I pressed both hands over my mouth to muffle the sob threatening to break loose.

That was when I felt it.

A presence.

Heavy. Quiet. Wild.

My breath caught before I even turned.

Raevan stood at the edge of the path, half-hidden in shadow. Moonlight caught on the lines of his jaw, on the frustration in his eyes, on the way his chest rose a little too fast—as if he had been searching, running, hunting for me.

“Soraya,” he said softly.

I stiffened. “Don’t. Not tonight.”

He didn’t listen.

He stepped forward, slow and careful, like I was a frightened animal ready to bolt. “Kaide told me you weren’t in your chambers. When I couldn’t find you in the training yard, or with Vienne, or anywhere near the barracks…” He exhaled sharply. “I worried.”

“You shouldn’t.” My voice cracked. “You shouldn’t worry about me.”

His eyes searched mine. “I always do.”

It hurt—how simply he said it.

I turned away, fingers curling at my sides. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Then don’t talk.” There was grit in his voice now, helpless anger. “Just look at me.”

“No.”

“Soraya—”

“No!”

It came out louder than I meant. The oasis walls caught the sound and threw it back at us. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to break again.

But Raevan stepped closer, the heat of him touching my skin even before his hands did.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was low, desperate. “Please.”

I swallowed painfully. “You. Everything. Everyone. This pack hates me, Raevan. The elders want me chained or exiled; your betrothed wants me dead; the wolves look at me like I’m some monster sent to destroy them.”

“You’re not—”

“I turned into a creature that even terrified me.”

My voice shook.

“And I heard him. Zarek. Inside my mind. He’s coming. He’s planning something, something horrible, and it’s all because of me.”

His jaw tightened. “It isn’t—”

“And you,” I whispered, voice cracking again. “You make everything worse.”

For a second, he looked like I’d stabbed him.

But he didn’t back away.

He moved closer.

“So you still feel it,” he murmured, barely a breath. “This thing between us.”

I backed up until my spine hit the cool stone wall. His shadow swallowed mine. His scent wrapped around me—desert storms, steel, pine-smoke. It had always been a weakness. A tether. A danger.

“Stop,” I said weakly. “Raevan, stop. You belong to—”

“No,” he whispered. “I belong to no one.”

His hand lifted—hesitant, trembling slightly—and brushed one of my tears with the edge of his thumb. A touch so gentle it splintered me.

“Why were you crying alone?” he asked.

The truth slipped out before I could stop it. “Because no one wants me here.”

“I do.”

Three words. Destroying, undoing.

His forehead dropped to mine. His breath mingled with mine. His hands braced on either side of the wall, caging me in but not touching me—not until I let him.

“Tell me to leave,” he whispered. “Say it, and I’ll go.”

I opened my mouth. No sound came out.

His eyes darkened—wolf rising—and before I could regain sense or breath or sanity, his lips brushed mine. Barely. A question. A plea.

I should’ve pushed him away. I should’ve screamed. I should’ve walked out of that garden and never looked back.

Instead, I broke.

I grabbed his collar, pulled him down, and kissed him hard enough that the oasis air itself seemed to shatter. His mouth answered with a hunger that melted through me like molten sand. His hands slid to my waist, drawing me closer until our bodies fit together with terrifying ease.

Nothing existed but his breath, his heat, the tremor in his fingers when they cupped my jaw. He kissed me like he had been drowning for weeks. I kissed him like I hated myself for wanting him.

Moonlight flickered across the water as his lips traced my cheek, my throat, back to my mouth again. My wolf howled for him—silent, primal, aching.

“Raevan,” I breathed against his lips.

He froze.

His chest heaved against mine. His eyes flickered, storm and guilt and need all tangled into one impossible expression.

Slowly, painfully, he pulled back.

The loss of his warmth almost hurt.

What had I done? What had we done?

His hands fell from my body as if burned. “We shouldn’t have—Soraya, I’m sorry, I—”

“No.” My voice trembled. “I’m the one who… who…”

Words failed me. Shame didn’t.

I stepped back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as if it would erase everything. “This was a mistake.”

He looked wrecked. “It didn’t feel like a mistake.”

“That’s the problem,” I snapped. “You have a fiancée, Raevan. A pack. A council. A throne. And I… I’m nothing but a war waiting to happen.”

His breath broke. “You are not nothing.”

“Don’t do this,” I whispered. “Don’t make me want something I can’t have.”

His jaw clenched, agony sharpening every line of his face. “Soraya, please—”

I pushed past him.

He didn’t try to stop me.

“Don’t follow me,” I said without turning.

But I felt his eyes on my back until I vanished from sight.

And every step away from him felt like tearing out pieces of myself one by one.