Kael POV

The wind had turned colder by the time I left the council room. Reports of the mark outside the border had unsettled everyone, but no one more than me. I should have returned to my office, reviewed patrol rotations, or spoken with my Beta. Unmindfully, I went elsewhere down the quiet corridor of the guest wing. The zone I should never have assigned a room to her.

Her scent hit me before I turned the corner. She was standing alone in the lounge. She crossed her arms against her chest, facing the window. I stopped for a long moment. I just watched her. She turned and saw me. And neither of us said a word.

Though she didn't look angry, she wasn't looking equally soft either.

I’d imagined this moment for years. Though I never admitted it publicly. But now that we met each other, only separated by a few feet, every word I’d rehearsed was gone. I looked at her firmly if my life depended on her. My hands twitched by my side. I wanted to close the gap between us. But I realized I had since lost that right.

The bond pulsed low in my chest.. A quiet ache that never truly faded became very obvious. I had rejected her and walked away. Told myself it was to protect her, but it was a lie even then. I wasn’t protecting her. I was only running from grief and from guilt. From the life we were supposed to have.

Now she was here again, and everything I had buried clawed its way to the surface. I shifted my attention to fighting the urge to speak. But words felt like fire in my throat. And she stood there like a storm that displayed calm on the outside, but was ready to drown anything that touched her.

Still, I stepped closer. The tension crackled between us. Her eyes dropped for the briefest second to my hand before she drew back.

My fingers brushed hers. Just barely. But it was enough. The bond sparked, fast and hot, like lightning in my veins. I tried so much to bear the urge in me.

She inhaled sharply, almost too quietly to hear. But I did. And for one fragile breath, everything else disappeared. I felt her. She felt me. Exactly the way we used to. Exactly the way we weren’t supposed to, at least for now.

She stepped backwards to break the connection between us. I allowed her, because I got what I deserved. Her gaze was colder then, now, sharper. And when she finally spoke, her voice cut cleaner than any blade.

“You waited six years to say nothing, Kael. Don’t start talking now.” She bellowed.

I froze. Her words were quiet but penetrating. She never showed any sign of anger. She left me. She didn't even turn her

head. I didn’t stop her. I just stood there motionless. I was rooted in a silence that felt like punishment.

She disappeared into the hallway. The door to her room closed behind her. I stared at it, like it might open again. Like she might return and say something else. But she didn’t.

Minutes passed. Maybe more. I didn't even realize I was still standing there mopping. My hand still tingled where her hand had touched mine when our hands brushed.

A ghost of a feeling that I should’ve left enveloped me. I stood there alone, motionless.

Then I remembered the day I ended it. No ceremony. No goodbye. I tried so hard to beat the pain, but it flooded more when I remembered the cold rejection. I muffled because I was wrong .

A door creaked down the hall, one of the guards switching shifts. I didn’t move. They saw me standing there. They didn’t question it. What would they say?

Their Alpha, standing outside the guest room of the woman he’d cast out like she was nothing. The same woman is now being discussed across the territory. The one the Elders still don’t trust. The one my wolf still wants.

The bond hadn’t faded. If anything, it was louder now. And that terrified me.

Inside her room, she was probably asleep. Or maybe she was sitting up in bed, reliving the moment we just shared. I wanted to believe she felt the same heat. The same pulse of recognition. But I couldn’t be sure anymore.

The Mira I loved was soft, bold, and too trusting. The Mira who came back? She was steel wrapped in silk. And I couldn’t blame her. I had made her that way.

The hall grew colder. I didn’t move. Not until a voice startled me.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” It was Seraphine. Her voice sounded from down the corridor. I turned, surprised to see her still awake. Dressed in a silk robe.her expression unreadable. She approached slowly, her smile polite.

“I was just walking,” I said, voice flat. She glanced toward Mira’s closed door, then back at me. “Seems like the past is heavier than you expected.”

I didn’t reply. She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “You should be careful, Kael. The pack watches everything now. And they talk more than ever.”

I flared at how she spoke to me. Like a warning wrapped in advice. She’d been patient and calculating. A model Luna in the eyes of the council. Chosen for me the moment Mira left.

But I never claimed her. Never marked her. And I never would. She smiled again, this time with something sharp beneath it.

“Don’t let history make you blind. Mira’s return isn’t a fairytale. It’s a fracture.” She said. Then she turned and walked away. Her footsteps echoed like an accusation in my brain. When she was gone, I looked back at Mira’s door. Still closed and still silent, my head knocked.

The woman I loved was sleeping in another room, behind another wall with another Alpha.

But the truth? She’d always been behind the walls I built. And I didn’t know how to tear them down anymore. But I have realised that fate has a cruel habit of turning confident choices into painful regrets.