Chapter 89

Kane's POV

When Aurora said "I love you," the words hit me like ice water. They instantly transported me back to the worst day of my life. Suddenly, I was eight years old again, watching my parents prepare for what would be their final mission.

The memory crashed over me with vivid clarity. My mother's gentle hands smoothing down my unruly hair. My father's warm laugh as he promised to bring me back a present from their diplomatic trip. The way they'd both knelt down to my eye level, their faces serious but loving.

"We love you, Kane. We'll be back soon," my mother had said. She'd kissed my forehead with soft lips; her hair smelled like wildflowers. My father had ruffled my hair with his big, gentle hands, the same hands that could shift a mountain or comfort a crying child.

They never came back. And those words—I love you—had become a death sentence in my mind. A curse that marked people for tragedy.

"This is how it starts," I thought desperately as Aurora's words echoed in my head. "This is how people become targets."

Love made people vulnerable. Love got people killed. My parents had died because they'd loved their cause more than their safety. Because they'd been willing to take risks for something greater than themselves. And now Aurora was offering me the same dangerous gift.

I couldn't accept it. I wouldn't watch another person I cared about become a casualty of love.

The logical part of my brain tried to argue. Aurora wasn't my parents. This situation was different. But trauma doesn't listen to logic. It speaks in the language of fear and survival, and right now it was screaming at me to run.

Aurora's POV

Kane's rejection left me feeling more isolated than I'd ever been in my life. The cold way he'd pulled away from me, the sudden shutdown of everything warm and tender between us—it felt like losing Raymond all over again.

While I struggled with the aftermath of his coldness, Giana began her subtle campaign against our appointment as the Alpha King's representatives. I watched from across the dining hall as she leaned close to Raymond, her voice honey-sweet but poisonous in its implications.

Her fingers traced delicate patterns on his arm as she spoke. Each touch reinforced the magical conditioning that bound him to her. I could almost see the supernatural influence strengthening with every caress, every whispered word.

"Why would the Alpha King choose her over you?" she asked with practiced innocence. Her words were designed to plant seeds of doubt and resentment. "It doesn't seem very respectful of your authority as Alpha. Surely your own Luna should have discussed such a significant appointment with you first."

I watched Raymond's expression darken as her words took root in his magically conditioned mind. The supernatural manipulation made him particularly susceptible to suggestions that painted me as disloyal or scheming.

"You're right," Raymond said slowly. His voice gained conviction as Giana's influence took hold. "Aurora should have consulted with me before accepting any royal appointments. This feels like a deliberate undermining of my leadership."

The magical conditioning was so complete that Raymond couldn't even consider the possibility that the Alpha King had made the appointment independently. In his altered mind, everything was filtered through the lens of conspiracy and betrayal.

I wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. I wanted to shake him until the magic broke and he remembered who I really was. But I knew it was useless. The magic was too strong, and Giana was too skilled at reinforcing it.

Kane maintained professional distance after rejecting my love confession. He treated me like a colleague rather than the woman he'd held all night. His coldness was like a physical ache that never subsided. A constant reminder of what I'd lost.

During our required meetings about council preparations, he spoke to me with formal politeness that felt like mockery after the intimacy we'd shared. Every professional exchange was torture, especially when I caught glimpses of longing in his eyes before he shuttered them again.

"The documentation needs to be submitted by the end of the week," Kane said during one particularly painful briefing. His voice was crisp, businesslike. "I'll handle the security protocols while you focus on the diplomatic requirements."

The way he divided our responsibilities felt like he was dividing us as people too. Compartmentalizing everything we'd shared into neat, professional categories that could be managed and controlled.

"The Moon Goddess chose us, but you're too scared to accept it," I accused him during one particularly painful interaction when his professional mask slipped just enough for me to see the longing beneath.

Kane's jaw tightened. For a moment, I saw the real him—vulnerable, scared, fighting against everything he wanted. Then the walls slammed back up.

"I didn't ask for any divine intervention in my life," Kane shot back. His fear made him cruel. "And neither did you."

Our relationship became strained and awkward just when we needed unity most. The silver crescent marks that bound us as mates made our connection impossible to ignore, which only frustrated Kane further.

Every time he looked at me, I could see the internal war raging behind his eyes. Desire fighting fear. Love battling survival instinct. But fear was winning, and it was destroying us both.

I tried to focus on the investigation, but Kane's rejection had shattered something fundamental inside me. How could I fight for a pack that didn't want me, alongside a mate who refused to acknowledge our bond?

The evidence we'd gathered about Giana's treachery sat ignored while our personal conflicts tore us apart. Every lead we should have been following got lost in the tension between us. Every strategy session became an exercise in painful formality.

"You're making this harder than it needs to be," I told him after another strained briefing session where we could barely make eye contact.

"I'm trying to keep us both alive," Kane replied coldly. But I caught the slight tremor in his voice that betrayed his true feelings.

The distance between us was becoming a chasm, and I was tired of being the only one trying to bridge it. Every professional interaction felt like a knife to the heart. Every formal exchange was a reminder of what we could have been.

Meanwhile, Giana's influence over Raymond grew stronger each day. Her magical conditioning was supplemented by constant manipulation and suggestion. She was turning him into a weapon against me, using his altered mind to isolate me from any support within the pack.

I watched helplessly as she whispered poison in his ear during every meal, every meeting, every quiet moment. Her words were carefully chosen to reinforce his paranoia and suspicion. She painted every one of my actions as evidence of betrayal.

"She spends too much time with Kane," Giana would say with false concern. "It's not appropriate for a Luna to be so close to another man, especially one who isn't from our pack."

Raymond would nod along, his magically influenced mind accepting her words as truth. The man who used to trust me completely now viewed every conversation I had with suspicion.

The isolation was becoming unbearable. Kane had withdrawn emotionally, Raymond was lost to magic, and the pack was starting to whisper about their Luna's strange behavior. I felt like I was fighting a war on multiple fronts with no allies left to trust.