Kairan felt the subtle shifts in his body, the telltale signs of his heat. He knew it would be worse this time, stronger, more unbearable. The royal physicians visited his chambers, their expressions carefully schooled, but he could sense their unease.
"My Lord, the King has requested you take these suppressants to ease your suffering," one of them said hesitantly, holding out a small vial filled with shimmering white liquid.
Kairan frowned, "Aldric ordered this?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying sharpness.
Another physician, older and with worry lining her face, stepped forward. "Yes, Your Grace. He believes it best for you to remain comfortable and unaffected until-"
"Until what?" Kairan snapped, standing abruptly. "Until my body burns itself out? Until I'm reduced to nothing but an aching shell? These will only dull the pain in the beginning. You know that as well as I do."
The physicians exchanged glances but did not argue further. Kairan clenched his fists, anger and hurt simmering beneath his skin.
Later that evening, when Aldric visited his chambers, Kairan was waiting. The air between them was thick with tension.
"You want me take the suppressants," Kairan stated, his voice void of emotion.
Aldric sighed, running a hand through his golden hair. "Kairan, I did this to spare you-"
"Spare me?" Kairan interrupted, stepping closer. "Or spare yourself the responsibility of tending to me? Do you have any idea what it will be like? To endure this alone?
You're my mate Alrdic, claimed or not."
Aldric's jaw tightened, his expression conflicted. "I am a king above all else. I need my people to accept you, to see you as more than just an obligation I fulfilled. If I claim you now, before my father gives his blessing-"
Kairan's laughter was bitter. "Then why bind me to you in the first place? Am I just a promise to be kept?"
Aldric opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Kairan felt it-the unmistakable wave of heat crashing through him. His breath hitched, legs trembling as molten fire spread through his veins. He staggered, gripping the edge of a nearby chair.
Aldric caught him before he fell. "Kairan-"
"Don't," Kairan gasped, pushing weakly against him. "You made your choice. Now leave."
Reluctantly, Aldric released him, his expression pained as he turned and left the chambers.
Tears welled in Kairan's eyes, his breath ragged as he clutched at the sheets. The silk was damp with sweat, the scent of his own slick thick in the air, a scent meant to call his Alpha to him. But Aldric never came.
"Please..." Kairan whimpered, his body writhing against the unbearable emptiness.
The pain twisted inside him, his instincts screaming for Aldric's touch, his knot, anything to end this torment.
But there was nothing. No soothing voice, no steady hands to hold him, no warmth to ease the ache.
Only silence. Only the walls of his chamber, trapping him in his suffering.
His nails dug into his own skin, desperate for any kind of relief. Every nerve in his body burned with longing, every part of him aching for the mate who had abandoned him in his most vulnerable moment.
And he had begged.
Through the haze of his heat, he had called Aldric's name over and over, his voice breaking, pleading. But no one came. No one answered.
Two days later, when the heat finally subsided, he woke up drenched in sweat and slick, his body weak and trembling. His mind was hazy with exhaustion, but a deep sense of misery settled in his chest.
He wasn't good enough for Aldric. Not even worthy of bearing his mark or his children.
Then, as he lay there, a memory surfaced-his mother's voice, her final moments.
He had been young, barely more than a child, walking with her in the forest as she gathered herbs for her healing supplies. Then, a sudden shift in the air, a burst of sound. His mother had stiffened, eyes narrowing.
She had run towards the sound, Kairan trailing behind. When they reached the clearing, he saw him-a child with blonde hair, dressed in a fine blue outfit embroidered with gold, unconscious on the ground.
Aldric Vaelor, the prince of the Light Fae kingdom.
Cloaked figures surrounded him, their faces covered, their hands crackling with dark magic. His mother had burst into action, power crackling from her hands-magic unlike any Kairan had seen before. He had always known she was a healer, but this... this was something else.
His parents never spoke much about his mother's clan only that they had opposed the mating. She left with his father and took his last name, Maevira Eryndor. At first, the villagers were reluctant to accept her, but over time, they warmed up to her. There was a warmth to her presence, and her magic carried a soothing touch, comforting the soul.
Now, that same warmth was fading before his eyes replaced with raw strength.
One of the rogue witches lunged at the young prince, forcing her to shift focus just long enough for another to strike her with a powerful spell. Kairan's eyes widened in horror as he screamed her name, rushing forward.
The witches turned their attention to him. His mother's panic was evident as she threw up a shield around him, her focus split between protecting him and fighting them off. It cost her. Spells and magic struck her from all sides.
One of the rogue witches, faster than the rest, jumped at Kairan with a dagger. His mother rushed towards him spun, deflecting another strike, but the dagger struck true, grazing her shoulder. At first, it seemed a mere wound-until the cut blackened, the veins around it darkening like ink spreading through water.
Kairan gasped as she staggered, realization dawning too late. The blade was infused with a death curse. His mother's breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling. The witches grinned, their chants rising.
Then, with a cry that shook the ground, a burst of raw power erupted from her. The force sent the witches flying-some crashing against trees, bones shattering on impact. Others screamed as flames engulfed them, their bodies reduced to nothing but ash. But the witches who remained only stepped back, regrouping, their eyes burning with hatred.
Kairan saw movement-his father and the royal guards charging into the clearing, cutting down the remaining witches. His mother crumpled to the ground.
He ran to her, hands pressing desperately against her wounds. "No, no, no, no, please!" He willed his magic to work, but he had barely begun his training.
Then, warmth spread from his fingertips. Sparks of energy crackled, unfamiliar and wild. His mother gasped, looking at him with something between pride and sorrow.
"Oh, my child..." she whispered, her fingers touching his heart. "They will harm you if they find out... I'm sorry, my love. This is the only way I can protect you."
She whispered something in an ancient tongue. A Spell. He felt the energy inside him responding to her call, it surged then dull, as if something had been sealed away. His vision blurred, darkness pulling him under.
When he awoke, he was in the palace. His father stood at his bedside, Aldric at his side. They told him his mother was gone. Her last wish had been a promise from Aldric-to always protect her son.
Kairan burst into tears, grief overwhelming him as he realized his mother had ensured his safety even in death. Aldric gathered him into his arms, holding him close. "I will always stay by your side, Kairan," he whispered. "I swear to protect you, always."
Now, years later, as he lay broken and alone in his chambers, that same boy-now a king-had abandoned him.