Their Hidden Princess (Zora) novel Chapter 155

**Where Sleeping Rivers Dream We Follow Trails Toward Tomorrow by Evan Milesa Cade**

**Chapter 155**

**Kairos**

**The Day Before**

Kairos stood rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on Zora as she walked away from him, her silhouette growing smaller with each step. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, and he muttered under his breath, “That could’ve gone better.”

Turning away, he felt an ache in his chest as she distanced herself. The words he had shared about the snow had been sincere; he had hoped that revealing something so personal would bridge the gap between them. Yet, as he stood there alone, it became painfully clear that nothing had changed. The looming specter of their final challenge still hovered ominously on the calendar, a reminder of the conflict that awaited them.

The thought of fighting her again filled him with dread.

Everything about Zora captivated him in ways he never anticipated. It was in the rhythm of her speech, the grace of her movements, and—oh, how the gods must have favored him—how she pronounced his name.

Kairos Moonraiser had never been fond of his name. It was an ancient Greek moniker, steeped in history and tradition, passed down through generations. His father bore the same name, and while it meant something along the lines of “perfect moment,” he had always dismissed it as nonsense.

But when Zora spoke his name, it resonated within him like a melody he had never known, filling him with a warmth he couldn’t quite explain.

Zora had this uncanny ability to make him appreciate the very parts of himself he often loathed. His name. His simmering anger. Somehow, she managed to twist those aspects and turn them into something valuable, something that brought him joy.

*What a mess I’m in,* he thought, a wave of realization crashing over him. *She must be my fated mate.* No other person—man or woman—had ever stirred such profound feelings within him, and the strangest part was that she hadn’t even laid a finger on him.

He rubbed his hands over his face in frustration, trying to shake off the overwhelming emotions. Just then, a flicker of movement caught his eye. With a swift motion, he turned, instinctively growling in response.

Not more than ten meters away stood Amara, her hood drawn low over her face. Yet, he recognized her instantly—the height, the unmistakable flash of her bright red nails peeking from beneath her sleeve gave her away.

He observed her as she glided through the shadows, traversing the campus with an air of purpose. She seemed oblivious to his presence, even as the growl rumbled from his throat. His eyes tracked her every move until she vanished into the edge of the forest, swallowed by the trees.

A frown etched itself onto his brow, confusion swirling within him.

It was nearly one in the morning. The fact that he had caught Zora out so late made sense; he knew she was committed to her training and had seen her leave the gym. But Amara? She didn’t train, nor did she study. *What on earth could she be up to?*

For a moment, the thought of following her danced in his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. Knowing Amara, she was likely up to some reckless mischief, perhaps even attempting to blow a first-year in the very class where they taught shifting. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought, and he turned back toward his house, the night air thick with unanswered questions.

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