The evening air hung heavy with silence, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. I sat on the edge of my bed, fingers twisting the hem of my gown, my mind replaying the humiliation I had endured earlier that day. Kieran's eyes had been so cold, so unyielding, when he humiliated me before everyone. The memory seared me like an open wound.
I wanted to hate him. Moon Goddess, I wanted to hate him. Yet the bond—the invisible, unbreakable tether that linked our souls—kept pulling at me, reminding me of the love I once believed was eternal.
The door creaked open without warning. My heart lurched when I saw him—Kieran—filling the doorway, broad shoulders framed by the golden glow of the hall's torchlight.
"Elara," he murmured, his voice low, almost uncertain.
I clenched my fists against my lap. "Why are you here?" I asked, my words sharper than I intended.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "Because I couldn't stay away." His tone softened, almost a whisper. "Not tonight."
I scoffed, turning my face away. "You had no problem staying away before."
He sighed, the sound carrying the weight of a man at war with himself. He crossed the room slowly, like he feared I might bolt if he came too quickly. "I was a fool," he said. "But when I look at you now, I remember why I chose you. Why the Moon Goddess chose us."
I looked at him then, really looked. His eyes—once the very thing that had made me believe in destiny—were softer now, filled with something between regret and longing.
"You humiliated me, Kieran," I whispered. "In front of everyone."
He winced as though my words were a blade. "I know. And every moment since, I've hated myself for it." He sank onto the bed beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. "But I can't undo it. All I can do is beg you to let me make it right."
I shook my head, my voice trembling. "How can you make it right when you've already given my place to another?"
He reached for my hand, and though every instinct screamed for me to pull away, I didn't. His touch was tentative, reverent. "No one could ever take your place, Elara," he murmured. "Not in my heart. Not in my soul."
Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them back. "You say that now, but when Selene whispered lies, you believed her."
His jaw tightened, but he didn't deny it. "I was blind," he whispered. "Blinded by the fear of losing an heir, of losing my future. But standing here, I realize the future means nothing if I lose you."
I searched his face, desperate for the truth. "Do you mean that?" I asked.
His thumb brushed the back of my hand, sending shivers racing up my arm. "I've never meant anything more."
The firelight flickered, painting shadows across the room. His nearness was suffocating and comforting all at once. My heart pounded, traitorous in its eagerness.
"Kieran," I murmured, my voice barely audible.
"Elara," he whispered back, leaning closer. "Tell me you still don't feel it. Tell me the bond doesn't burn inside you the way it does in me."
I wanted to deny it, to tell him his betrayal had extinguished everything between us. But as his breath fanned against my cheek, the truth clawed its way free. "I feel it," I confessed, the words tasting like both poison and salvation.
His lips brushed mine, tentative at first, as though he feared rejection. A soft, fleeting kiss that ignited something I had tried so hard to bury. When I didn't pull away, he deepened it, his hand cupping my face, his thumb stroking my cheek.
"You're mine, Elara," he murmured against my lips. "Always mine."
Tears slipped free, but I didn't stop him. My hands found his chest, the steady beat of his heart thundering beneath my palm. "And you're mine," I whispered, hating how much I meant it.
He pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me like he feared I might vanish. His kisses grew more desperate, more consuming, as though he was trying to erase every cruel word, every cold glance, every betrayal.
"Kieran," I gasped between kisses, my breath hitching. "This doesn't erase what you've done."
"I know," he murmured against my skin, his lips trailing fire along my jaw. "But let me love you tonight. Let me remind you of what we are."
The ache in his voice disarmed me. Against all reason, I let myself sink into him. Our bond flared, overwhelming and undeniable, filling the hollow spaces inside me with heat and light.
Every touch, every kiss, was a battle between fury and longing, between betrayal and love. Yet the bond won, as it always did.
"I shouldn't let you," I whispered, even as I clung to him.
He kissed me again, softer this time, lingering. "Then don't let me," he said. "Choose me."
And for that one fragile moment, I did.
His lips lingered on mine, tasting of apology and desperation. The fire in his eyes burned brighter than the flames in the hearth, and it consumed every shred of my resolve.
"Kieran…" I whispered, my voice trembling with uncertainty.
"Yes, my love?" he murmured, brushing his thumb along my cheek as though I was something fragile, something precious.
"I don't know if I can forgive you," I said, tears threatening to spill.
He pressed his forehead to mine. "Then don't forgive me tonight. Just feel me. Just let me hold you."
His words unraveled me. Against all reason, I leaned into him, surrendering to the warmth of his embrace. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me into the strength I had once called home.
"You still smell like my mate," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Like the bond I could never sever, even if I tried."
I swallowed hard, my hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. "You hurt me," I said.
"I know," he whispered. "And I will spend the rest of my life making it right."
The honesty in his voice cut deeper than any lie. Slowly, carefully, his lips found mine again—this time not desperate, but reverent. He kissed me like I was both a wound and a miracle, both his punishment and his salvation.
The world outside faded—the pack, the betrayal, even Selene's poisonous smile. For that moment, there was only us, only the bond, only the fire we could never extinguish.
I let him lay me back against the pillows, his hand entwining with mine, our breaths mingling in the quiet of the night. Every kiss, every caress, was both a plea and a promise.
"I love you, Elara," he murmured, his lips at my ear. "Even when I was blind, I loved you. Even when I was lost, it was always you."
A sob broke free from my throat, but it dissolved against his mouth as I kissed him back, fierce and unrestrained.
And when the moonlight spilled through the window, casting its silver glow upon us, I let the bond take me under. I let him remind me of what we were, of what we could still be—if only for this night.
The fire dimmed, the night grew quiet, and our love—fragile, broken, but still burning—carried us into darkness.