POV: Raevan
The desert night was too quiet.
The moon glowed like a blade above us, its cold light slicing across dune after dune as my horse tore through the sand. Kaide rode beside me, narrowed eyes scanning the horizon, his jaw clenched in a way that told me he felt the same thing I did—Soraya was close.
Her presence pulsed like a second heartbeat in my skull.
“She’s alive,” Kaide said quietly, as if afraid naming it would break the fragile thread connecting us.
“She’s alive,” I repeated, voice harsh. “And bleeding power into the dunes. I can feel it.”
Not magic exactly. Not telepathy. Something primal—an instinct that hummed beneath my ribs. Every time she breathed, something in me shifted.
We crested another dune—and I saw them.
A cluster of exhausted figures trudging through the sand: six Ashra scouts, burned by sun and bruised by chains. And in the center of them—Soraya.
Her hair tangled with sand, her skin cut by sharp stone, her steps unsteady. But her eyes—silver-blue, glowing faintly under the moon.
My heart nearly failed.
“Soraya,” I breathed.
Kaide’s horse skidded to a stop beside mine. “Scouts! By the moons—she really did it. She got them out.”
But I was already dismounting, boots sinking deep into the cool night sand.
“Soraya!” I called.
Her head snapped up. Even from a distance, I saw it—the tremor of relief in her shoulders, the way her breath hitched. She took one step toward me—
Then another.
And I ran.
The desert blurred. The wind howled past my ears. When I reached her, I grabbed her shoulders, pulling her against me, feeling the rapid, uneven pulse beneath her skin.
“You’re safe,” I whispered, voice shaking. “I’ve got you.”
She didn’t speak. Just pressed her forehead against my chest, gripping my shirt with trembling fingers. Her body shook—not from fear, but from exhaustion. From everything she had endured.
Kaide reached us moments later. “Scouts—roll call!”
They answered weakly, but all six were alive. Alive because of her.
I held Soraya tighter. “I’m taking you home.”
For a moment—for a breath—it felt possible. The nightmare was ending. She was alive. She was back. I would carry her if I had to, fight the desert itself to bring her to safety.
But then—a horn sounded across the dunes. Low. Deep.
Vibrating through the sand like a coming storm.
Kaide swore. “Saren horn.”
My stomach dropped.
We turned in unison.
On the next dune over, like phantoms rising from the sand, appeared Zarek’s riders—a dozen, then two dozen, then far more than we could count. Banners with the Saren sigil—a black sun over crossed spears—snapped in the wind.
Zarek himself rode at the front, on a pale stallion armored in gold.
Soraya stepped instinctively behind me.
Zarek’s voice carried across the desert. Smooth. Measured. Poisonous.
“Raevan Ashra,” he called, “the desert sings your name tonight.”
My wolf snarled inside me.
Kaide moved closer to Soraya. “Don’t provoke him,” he murmured. “We’re outnumbered.”
“I don’t care.”
I stepped forward, shielding Soraya completely from Zarek’s gaze.
Zarek smirked. “How touching. The dread wolf plays guard dog.”
My teeth bared. “Move your army back.”
“Army?” he echoed with a chuckle. “Alpha, please. These are escorts. I came for what is mine.”
“She is NOT yours,” I roared.
The dunes trembled. Scouts flinched. Even Kaide took a silent step back.
Zarek lifted a hand lazily. “Soraya came to Saren of her own free will.”
“She was kidnapped.”
“She fled you,” Zarek corrected calmly. “Can we blame her?”
Soraya stiffened behind me. I felt the sting in her silence.
Zarek’s eyes glinted. “I see she still won’t speak for herself. Perhaps she is ashamed of choosing—”
“Zarek,” I snapped, voice dangerously low, “the next word that leaves your mouth may be your last.”
He gave a light laugh. “Threats? In neutral dunes? Before witnesses? Oh, Alpha… I expected more sophistication.”
Kaide leaned toward me. “Raevan, this is bad. He WANTS you to strike first.”
“I know,” I muttered. “But I don’t care.”
And then it got worse.
Zarek raised his arm—and dozens more riders crested the dune behind him, forming a semicircle. The moonlight glinted off their armor.
Too many.
Far too many.
Kaide whispered, “If this turns into a fight… the scouts die. Soraya dies. We die.”
I clenched my jaw.
Zarek’s gaze slid past me—to Soraya.
She shrank back instinctively.
I moved to block his line of sight again.
Zarek smiled thinly. “Bring her to me, Raevan. Break this tension before elders hear of it. Before an incident becomes a war.”
My blood boiled.
“She’s not leaving with you.”
“Then perhaps,” Zarek said quietly, “I should take her.”
Kaide swore under his breath. “He’s pushing you, Raevan. He wants you to attack first.”
“And if he touches her?” I growled.
Kaide hesitated. “…I won’t stop you.”
For a moment, the desert froze.
Soraya touched my arm—softly, weakly, but it was enough.
“Raevan,” she whispered, voice cracked, “please don’t… not here. Not like this.”
Her voice saved me.
I swallowed the beast clawing at my insides. I stepped slightly back, keeping her behind me.
Zarek sighed dramatically. “Very well. If the dread wolf wishes to posture instead of negotiate, I’m happy to oblige.”
He raised his hand.
Saren guards stepped forward.
Ashra scouts flinched.
Soraya’s fingers tightened on my sleeve.
Kaide whispered, “Raevan… this is a political catastrophe waiting to burst.”
Zarek’s voice cut through the air like a dagger:
“Hand her over—or I will take her by force, and your empire will answer for the insult.”
The desert held its breath.
And I thought only one thing—I will burn this entire world before I let him touch her again.