scarred by the Alpher, claimed by his touch.

Caidren stood atop the battlements, the wind biting at his skin as he surveyed the lands beyond the stronghold walls. Snow stretched endlessly before him, the frozen world quiet in the wake of battle.

The stronghold had recovered.

The soldiers had resumed their duties.

Everything was as it should be.

And yet—

Caidren's grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.

He could still feel the weight of the war room's silence, the way Dain's words had clung to him like a curse. The way the challenge had lingered in the air, unspoken but undeniable.

Prove it.

Cast him out.

Caidren scowled, shoving the thought from his mind. He had more important things to focus on. The enemy had been driven back, but they weren't gone. There would be more battles, more threats. That was where his attention should be.

Not on—

A voice interrupted his thoughts.

"My lord."

Caidren turned to see Aedric approaching, his expression unreadable.

"He's awake."

Caidren's jaw tensed.

He knew who Aedric meant.

Of course he did.

He exhaled slowly, his breath curling in the cold air. "And?"

"He asked where he was," Aedric said. "Didn't say much else." A pause. "He's been quiet. More than usual."

Caidren forced himself to look indifferent. "He's always quiet."

Aedric studied him for a long moment. "Yes. But this is different."

Caidren turned away, looking back toward the snowy horizon. "Then let him be. He's not my concern."

Another pause.

Then—

"With all due respect, my lord—he was the first thing you went for during the attack."

Caidren stiffened.

Aedric's voice was careful. Measured. But the words cut deeper than any blade.

Caidren could hear Dain's voice in his mind again, smug and knowing.

You risked everything—for him.

His fingers twitched at his side. "I did what was necessary."

Aedric nodded, but his expression remained unreadable.

Caidren turned away.

"If he's well enough to wake," he said coldly, "he's well enough to take care of himself."

Then he walked away, leaving Aedric behind.

Because he would not give them—any of them—the satisfaction of acknowledging the truth.

That he had been the first to go to Elias.

That he had ignored instinct, ignored strategy, ignored everything that made him the Alpha he was—

Because of an omega who shouldn't have mattered.

A World That Did Not Wait

The next few days passed in a blur.

Caidren forced himself to focus on his duties. He oversaw repairs, sent out scouting parties, trained with his soldiers. He made sure the stronghold was prepared for whatever would come next.

And through it all, he did not go to Elias.

He didn't ask about him.

Didn't acknowledge his presence.

And neither did anyone else.

The stronghold had already erased him.

Elias was no longer a source of amusement, no longer a convenient target for cruelty.

Now, he was nothing.

It was exactly what Caidren had wanted.

Exactly what he had forced himself to want.

But if that were true—

Then why did his mind keep returning to the quiet boy in the lower chambers?

Why did he find himself listening—without meaning to—for any sign of movement?

Why did he feel this restless, unfamiliar irritation, like something was out of place?

He refused to name the feeling.

Refused to acknowledge it.

Instead, he buried it.

Like he had always done.

Like he had been trained to do.

Because that was the only way to survive.