Chapter 104

Richard

The morning started with a slam. I knew it was Simon before I even heard his voice.

He didn’t knock, he just walked into my office like he had every right. His eyes were already sharp with fury, and for a second, I thought he might actually throw a punch.

“If you care about her,” he said, “you have to stop trying to control everything.”

I didn’t move. “Simon.”

“No.” He took another step in. “She’s not going to become Luna by being coddled and protected from the pressure. She needs to be able to fuck up. She needs to find her own edges.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to put him in his place. But I didn’t. Because I had watched Amelia try to disappear into herself too many times. I had seen her shrink when she should have been standing tall. And I had asked her to change when all I really wanted was to keep her safe.

“You think I don’t know that?” I asked quietly.

He didn’t flinch. “I think you know it, but I think you forget it. I think you want to be her shield so badly that you forget she spent her entire life trying to force herself into spaces that didn’t want her.”

After he left, I sat at my desk for a long time, staring at nothing. Then I canceled the optics dinner. Then I wrote to Lady Maris, thanking her for her service and instructing her to end Amelia’s lessons.

She is not the one who needs to change.

When I found Amelia in the hallway later, she looked at me like she expected bad news. I gave her something else.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“For what?”

“For trying to make you smaller. For asking you to change when you never needed to. I think I was afraid that if you got too good at all of this, you wouldn’t need me anymore.”

Her face changed.

“I think I was afraid I’d never be enough,” she said.

I cupped her face in my hands, brushing my thumb against her cheek. “You are more than enough.”

When she kissed me, it was not polite. It was not political. It was messy and real and immediate. We stumbled into my office, her hands in my hair, my hands under her shirt.

She dropped to her knees in front of me, her hands already tugging at my belt, her mouth flushed and parted. I stared down at her, breath shallow, as she pulled me free and took me into her mouth with a look of pure reverence. I swore, hand bracing against the edge of the desk behind me.

She moved slowly at first, letting me feel every inch of her lips, every warm stroke of her tongue. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, and the sight of her like that, kneeling for me, working me deeper into her mouth with soft little sounds that vibrated my whole body, nearly undid me.

“That's so good,” I breathed, fingers tangling in her hair.

She moaned around me, and the sound sent a shock straight through my spine. I let her take her time, let her set the pace, completely undone by the way she looked and sounded and felt. I could have come like that.

I lifted her onto the edge of the desk, letting her skirt bunch at her thighs. She was already warm against me, already moving her hips like she needed more.

I kissed down her neck, biting gently at her collarbone, and she gasped. My hands found the edge of her underwear and I slid them down with reverence. She was soaked. I groaned without meaning to, burying my face in the curve of her shoulder.

She tugged at my belt. Her fingers were clumsy and eager and it almost undid me. When she reached for me and guided me to her, I stopped breathing.

I pushed into her slowly, needing to feel every inch. Her head fell back and she made a sound I would never forget, not even in my final breath.

She was tight and hot and perfect, and the second I was fully inside her, I nearly lost it. My head spun from how good she felt, how snug and warm she wrapped around me, like her body had been made to take mine. Every instinct screamed to stay right there, to never leave the heaven of being inside her.

“Amelia,” I said into her skin, my voice rough with how close I was already. “You feel so fucking good, I could stay buried in you forever.”

I held still for a moment, just letting myself feel it. The way she clenched around me, the way her legs wrapped around my hips, the way her fingers clawed at my back like she couldn’t get close enough. I would have died like that. Happily. Buried inside her, her body wrapped around mine, her mouth whispering my name.

“Move,” she said, breathless.

And I did.

Slow at first, savoring the way her body gripped me so perfectly, like she was molded to take every inch. Then I drove deeper, harder, and the way she gasped and clawed at my back made my vision blur. The desk groaned under us, and I didn’t care if it snapped in half. I watched her fall apart with every thrust, her lips open in breathy moans, her eyes hazy with want. She clenched around me like she'd die if I left her body, and I never wanted to. Every sound she made, every desperate little whimper against my ear, just pushed me closer. She felt like sin, like salvation, like the only place I ever wanted to be.

When she came, her whole body arched into me, her mouth opening in a cry she tried to swallow. I held her through it, thrusting slower now, watching her unravel.

I followed her moments later, groaning against her throat, my hands gripping her thighs as I spilled into her.

After, I rested my forehead against hers, both of us breathless and shaking.

“If someone walked in right now,” she said, voice hoarse, “your approval rating would skyrocket.”

I laughed, real and rough, and kissed her again.

Later that week, Emma cornered me outside the strategy room as I was coming out of a late briefing. The hallway was mostly empty except for Nathan, who lingered a few steps away, clearly pretending not to listen. Emma's expression was unreadable at first, but there was something in her eyes, calculated warmth mixed with quiet insistence.

“Richard,” she said, falling into step beside me. “You’ve got a problem.”

I glanced at her. “Only one?”

She didn’t laugh. "She’s got half the Pack falling in love with her and she still looks at you like you hung the moon. So stop acting like she’s some dream that’s going to vanish if you reach for her. If you love her, act like it. Stop dragging your heels."

“I’m not, ”

“You are.” She stopped walking and turned to face me. “Everyone can see how much you love her. You look at her like she’s gravity. So what’s stopping you from doing something about it?”

“I’m thinking about what this role would do to her,” I said. “What it would take.”

“And yet you’re already putting her through it,” she said gently. “If you see a future with her, Richard, then start building one she gets to say yes to.”

I didn’t answer right away. But I heard her. And she was right.

“You love her,” she said. “Everyone knows it. If you see a future with her, you need to think about what that actually looks like.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

I already knew.

I drove to a jeweler two towns over, alone, without alerting security or staff. The streets were quiet, the kind of place where no one looked twice. I liked that. The shop itself was tucked between a tailor and a secondhand bookstore, its windows fogged slightly with condensation from the chill.

Inside, a bell chimed softly above the door. The man behind the counter looked up from a display case, nodded once, and let me browse without interrupting.

I moved slowly past rows of gold and platinum, diamonds that caught the light in a way that felt too sharp. None of it felt right.

Then I saw the moonstone. Soft, glowing, subtle. The kind of stone that didn’t demand attention, but couldn’t be ignored either. Like her.

The setting beside it held onyx, a deep, grounded contrast. I picked it up and imagined it on her finger. My chest ached.

My card was on the table before I even realized I'd reached for my wallet.