Caidren stepped out into the crisp night air, inhaling deeply as he forced his mind back to where it belonged. The stronghold still stood, but there was work to be done—repairs to oversee, defenses to reinforce, soldiers to command.
That was his duty.
Not lingering in barracks over an omega that should have been nothing more than an afterthought.
The fires that had once raged through the western courtyard had been reduced to smoldering embers. The bodies of the fallen—both enemy and ally—were being gathered. Some to be buried, others to be burned.
His men moved with purpose, but there was an ease to their movements now, a quiet confidence that came with victory. They had defended their home. They had won.
Caidren should have felt the same.
Instead, there was an irritation buzzing beneath his skin.
Not because of the battle.
Not because of the state of the stronghold.
But because he had wasted time—precious minutes checking on someone who should not have mattered.
He ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply.
"Something troubling you, my lord?"
Caidren didn't need to turn to know who it was.
Dain.
Always lurking, always watching.
"I don't have time for your games," Caidren muttered, striding toward the central tower.
Dain fell into step beside him, his usual smirk tugging at his lips. "You say that, yet I can't help but notice where you went the moment the battle ended."
Caidren's steps didn't falter, but his fingers curled into fists. "Careful, Dain."
"Careful?" Dain chuckled. "Come now, my lord. I've known you too long for threats to work on me. And I've certainly known you long enough to recognize when something—or someone—is occupying that cold, ruthless mind of yours."
Caidren came to a halt, turning sharply. "Do you have a point?"
Dain tilted his head, studying him. "Only an observation." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "You fought as if you were in a hurry. You threw every soldier into the fray, used every advantage you had, all to win in two days." His smirk widened. "So tell me, why were you in such a rush?"
Caidren held his ground, his expression unreadable.
Dain sighed dramatically. "You're a fool if you think no one noticed. Your men did. I did. And yet, you refuse to acknowledge it."
"There is nothing to acknowledge."
Dain's amusement didn't fade. "Then why, of all places, did you go straight to the omega?"
Caidren's fingers twitched.
Dain hummed. "Pity, is it? Responsibility?" He stepped closer. "Or is it something else?"
Caidren's gaze turned ice-cold. "You're overstepping."
"Am I?" Dain smiled, but there was something sharper beneath it. "You think you can keep pretending, my lord, but we both know the truth. And if you don't admit it soon—" He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "—someone else will."
Caidren didn't react.
Didn't let himself react.
Instead, he turned away and resumed walking.
Dain chuckled behind him, calling after him with mock sincerity, "Try not to let your emotions ruin your reputation, my lord!"
Caidren didn't respond.
Because there was nothing to respond to.
Elias was nothing.
Just another responsibility.
Just another weak thing that had fallen under his protection.
And that was all he would ever be.
Caidren would make sure of it.