Their Hidden Princess (Zora) novel Chapter 166

As Kairos stepped into his room, he felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. He shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall carelessly onto the floor, and collapsed onto his bed with a heavy sigh. The mattress welcomed him, but the weight of his thoughts remained. He rubbed his face with both hands, trying to wipe away the frustration that clung to him like a shadow. He needed someone to confide in, someone who could understand the turmoil swirling inside him. Yet, the reality was stark: none of his friends were equipped to grasp the gravity of his situation. Thorne had severed the bond that was supposed to tie him to his fated mate, and Petyr was so blissfully enamored with Alessia that all he could do was rave about her beauty and charm.

With a low growl of irritation, Kairos rolled onto his side and reached for the landline phone that sat on his nightstand, its presence both familiar and alien. He turned it over in his hands, contemplating whether it was worth the effort. Finally, he decided to dial the only number that felt right in this moment of desperation. The phone rang twice before a gruff voice broke through the silence.

“What? What is it? Are you safe?” his father, Atlas Moonraiser, barked through the line, concern lacing his tone.

“Dad, I’m fine,” Kairos replied, exhaling slowly. “I just wanted to call and say hi.”

“‘Hi’?” Atlas scoffed, the irritation palpable. “Gods be damned, kid. I thought something was seriously wrong.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Kairos mumbled, rubbing his face again, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up his neck. “I just… I needed to talk to someone.”

Atlas cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the silence that followed. “Yeah. Yeah. Of course. What’s on your mind?”

Kairos hesitated, a cloud of doubt settling over him. This might have been a mistake. His father, despite all his good intentions, was not exactly the warm, nurturing type. A vivid memory flashed in his mind—his sixteenth birthday, when they had an awkward conversation about fated mates. The way his father had nearly choked on his drink when Kairos had innocently inquired about the consummation of the bond was forever etched in his memory.

Now, he was grappling with similar questions, hoping against hope that Atlas might offer some wisdom. Why had he thought this call was a good idea?

“It’s nothing,” Kairos muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Never mind.”

“Clearly, something is bothering you,” Atlas pressed, his voice firm yet laced with concern. “Though I don’t understand why you didn’t bring it up when we were together yesterday. Had to use the bloody emergency phone—”

“Yep, yep, sorry,” Kairos interrupted, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone. “Noted: don’t use the emergency phone to say hi.”

Atlas sighed heavily, and Kairos could almost hear the weariness in his father’s voice. “What is it, son?”

Kairos stared up at the ceiling, mirroring his father’s deep sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. After a moment of silence, he finally mustered the courage to voice the swirling chaos in his heart.

“I think I’ve found her.”

“I miss her too, Dad,” Kairos admitted, feeling a pang of longing for the mother he had lost.

“Aye,” Atlas sighed, his voice thick with emotion. “But my point still stands. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

“Right,” Kairos murmured, the words feeling hollow against the backdrop of his turbulent emotions.

“Get some sleep, son,” Atlas said, his tone gentle yet firm. “Start the day with a fresh mindset. She’ll come around.”

“Goodnight. Thanks for talking,” Kairos replied, a sense of gratitude washing over him. “And sorry for using the emergency phone.”

“Despite the heart attack it gave me, it’s good to hear from you, boy,” Atlas chuckled softly. “Goodnight, son.”

“Night,” Kairos echoed, placing the emergency phone back on its receiver with a sense of finality. He turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling as a myriad of thoughts raced through his mind. He hoped that tomorrow would bring with it a glimmer of hope, especially concerning Zora Smith.