SYLRA’S POV
Cealen’s eyes couldn’t meet mine. He stood framed in the doorway of my chambers, shoulders slumped, the proud royal advisor reduced to a shadow of himself.
“I’m sorry, Sylra.” His voice cracked on that single word. “Please forgive me.”
I wanted to be furious with him yet all I felt was a strange, hollow calmness. Somewhere deep inside, I’d always known there was more to his appearance in my life than chance.
“Well,” I said, surprising myself with a small laugh, “you’ve had plenty of opportunities.” I gestured around the empty room. “Including right now.”
His head snapped up, eyes finally meeting mine. “That’s not funny.”
“Isn’t it, though?” I moved to the window, watching the pack running drills in the field below. My pack now. “If you truly wanted me dead, I would have been gone long ago.”
Caelan crossed the room, each step measured as if approaching a wild animal. “The King fired me,” Caelan said abruptly.
That got my attention. I turned from the window, studying his face.
Silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken words. Outside, I could hear the rhythmic thud of bodies hitting training mats, the occasional bark of laughter. Life continuing as if my world hadn’t just tilted on its axis.
“I never meant for any of this to happen,” Caelan finally said. “I was supposed to infiltrate, gain your trust, and eliminate the threat you posed. Simple.”
“Yet here we are.” I gestured between us. “Nothing simple about it.”
He ran a hand through his dark hair, a gesture I’d seen countless times before. How many of our interactions had been genuine? How many calculated?
“So what now?” I asked. “The unemployed assassin and his failed target having a heart-to-heart?”
“I’m trying to apologize, Sylra.” Frustration edged his voice. “Though I’m starting to wonder why I bothered.”
“Because your conscience needed clearing?” I shot back. “Or because you need somewhere to go now that you’ve lost your royal cushion?”
His face hardened. “I deserve that.”
“You deserve worse.” The anger I’d been suppressing finally bubbled to the surface. “You lied to me. To all of us. We welcomed you, trusted you—”
“And I betrayed that trust. I know.” Caelan stepped closer. “But somewhere along the way, the lies became real. My loyalty shifted. That’s why I’m here now, telling you the truth when I could have simply disappeared.”
I searched his face for deception and found only raw honesty. It would be easier if he were still lying.
“How am I supposed to trust anything you say now?” I asked, hating the vulnerability in my voice.
“You’re not,” he answered simply. “I don’t expect trust. I just… needed you to know.”
Outside, the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the training grounds. Soon the pack would return, and this strange bubble of truth would burst.
“You know,” Caelan said, a hint of his old humor returning, “now that I’m officially unemployed, I don’t suppose that Beta position is still open?”
The laugh burst from me before I could stop it. “You have some nerve.”
“One of my better qualities,” he agreed with a tentative smile.
“Along with your excellent assassination skills, clearly.”
His smile faded. “Sylra—”
“It was a joke, Caelan.” I sighed. “A poor one, perhaps.”
We stood in silence for a moment, the weight of revelations settling around us like dust after a storm.
“What will you do now?” I finally asked.
“I don’t know. Away from court, certainly. The King isn’t known for his forgiveness.”
The thought of Caelan leaving created an unexpected ache. Despite everything, despite the betrayal and lies, he had become part of my world. A complicated, infuriating part, but one I wasn’t ready to lose.
“You could stay,” I found myself saying. “Not as Beta, obviously. But the pack could use someone with your… unique skill set.”
Hope flashed across his face, quickly suppressed. “And have every pack member watching me, waiting for the knife in the back? That’s not fair to anyone.”
“When has anything about our situation been fair?” I countered. “Besides, I’m the Alpha. If I say you stay, you stay.”
“Is that an order?” he asked, eyebrow raised.
“It’s an option,” I corrected. “One you’ve earned, despite everything.”
Caelan studied me, confusion evident. “Why would you do this? After what I’ve told you?”
I considered my answer carefully. The truth was complicated—a tangle of respect, anger, and something deeper I wasn’t ready to examine.
“Because you had the courage to tell me the truth when lies would have been easier,” I finally said. “And because I believe people can change. Even royal assassins.”
He laughed at that, a genuine sound that eased some of the tension between us. “Former royal assassin, thank you very much.”
“A significant improvement.”
Before I could react, Caelan stepped forward and pulled me into an embrace. I stiffened, surprised by the contact, then slowly relaxed into it. His arms were strong, his heartbeat steady against my ear.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “For not immediately having me executed.”
I pulled back, meeting his gaze. “The day’s still young.”
He smiled, and for a moment, I could almost forget the chasm of deception that had opened between us. Almost.
“I should go,” he said reluctantly, stepping away. “Give you time to process. And myself time to figure out what comes next.”
I nodded, suddenly wanting to say a thousand things and finding words for none of them. He moved toward the door, each step creating more distance between us.
At the threshold, he paused, turning back with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“Rovan still loves you,” he murmured, his voice so low I almost missed it.
And then he was gone, leaving me alone with truths I wasn’t ready to face and a future suddenly more uncertain than ever before.
