Chapter 63

Esther’s POV

The world has a cruel sense of humor.

Because the day Kevin decided to propose to me was the same day the sun finally came out over Blood Moon’s territory after weeks of relentless rain.

The courtyard gleamed, every leaf silvered with dew, every stone shining as if scrubbed clean. I stood in the center of it, framed by a fountain’s spray and the pale arch of the east veranda. A small crowd had gathered, pack members, servants, even a few visiting dignitaries.

And him.

Nicholas stood across the courtyard, a black silhouette against the light. His expression unreadable. But I could feel his gaze like pressure under my skin.

Kevin was talking, his voice smooth and confident, rehearsed a thousand times in his head, I was sure.

“… You’ve suffered too long in the shadows, Esther,” he was saying. “You deserve peace. You deserve safety. You deserve a life without fear.”

My heart hammered, not from joy, but from the sheer weight of eyes watching me. Sofia and Carl stood by the fountain, holding hands. Sofia’s smile was wide and bright; Carl’s face was a storm cloud.

I tried to smile. I tried to breathe.

When Kevin went down on one knee and opened the small velvet box, my breath caught entirely.

The ring glittered, a perfect sapphire circled by diamonds, beautiful, expensive, meaningless.

“I can keep you safe,” Kevin said softly. “You and the twins. You’ll never have to look over your shoulder again.”

The crowd murmured approval.

I felt every muscle in my body stiffen. Safety wasn’t the same as love. And love wasn’t the same as freedom.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement.

Nicholas had turned away, jaw tight, the faintest tremor of rage visible even from here.

The world seemed to tilt.

Kevin reached for my hand.

“Esther,” he said. “Say yes.”

I didn’t. Couldn’t. The word lodged behind my teeth like a stone.

I glanced at the twins and saw Sofia’s pleading eyes, Carl’s glare. I glanced at Nicholas, who had stopped halfway across the courtyard and was staring at the fountain like he could crush it just by looking.

The silence stretched.

Finally, I forced a smile, my voice trembling but steady enough to carry. “Kevin… this isn’t—”

“Esther.”

Nicholas’s voice cut through the courtyard like a blade.

Every head turned.

He stood near the edge of the crowd, face unreadable but eyes burning.

“A public proposal?” he drawled. “Bold, even for you, Kevin.”

Kevin rose slowly, still holding the ring. “Stay out of this.”

“I would,” Nicholas said softly, “if you weren’t proposing to someone who belongs to me.”

The air went still.

I froze. “Nicholas—”

He didn’t even glance at me. His gaze locked on Kevin, cold and murderous.

Kevin’s lip curled. “She doesn’t belong to you.”

Nicholas smiled, a slow, dangerous thing that had nothing to do with humor. “Doesn’t she?”

Something inside me snapped.

“Stop it,” I said, stepping between them. “Both of you. This isn’t about your egos or territory.”

“Then what is it about?” Nicholas asked, finally turning to me.

The look in his eyes made my knees weak, not anger, not exactly. Something older. More dangerous.

I couldn’t speak.

He stepped closer, voice dropping to a low growl. “Is it about safety, Esther? Is that what you want? A cage lined with velvet instead of chains?”

“Don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t twist this.”

“Then tell me,” he hissed, “what is it you want from him?”

“Peace,” I shot back. “Something you’ve never given me.”

The courtyard fell deathly silent.

Nicholas’s jaw tightened. For a moment I thought he’d walk away. I hoped he would. But then his voice came, soft and cutting as silk.

“Peace,” he echoed. “You think peace will save you from yourself? Or from me?”

“Nicholas!” Kevin barked.

Nicholas turned on him like a storm breaking. “You don’t even see it, do you? You’re her escape hatch, her shield, her tool. That’s all you’ve ever been.”

My hand flew before I even thought about it. The slap cracked through the courtyard, echoing off the marble.

He didn’t move.

“Don’t you ever,” I whispered, shaking, “speak for me again.”

For a heartbeat, no one breathed.

Then Nicholas’s face hardened. The fury in his eyes shuttered into something colder.

“Fine,” he said. “Then speak for yourself, little healer. Tell them why you stay near me. Tell them how you whisper to your sleeping wolf at night, begging her to wake.”

The blood drained from my face. “Don’t.”

But he wasn’t finished. “Tell them,” he said louder, “how you use me, use us, to feel whole again. A convenient cure for your brokenness.”

“Nicholas,” I begged, “please—”

“Tell them you never wanted me,” he snarled, “only what I could give you.”

The crowd murmured, half in shock, half in fascination.

I felt the tears come before I could stop them. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

He leaned close, his breath cold against my ear. “Don’t I?”

And then he turned and walked away, leaving me standing in front of everyone. Kevin’s ring box was still open in his hand, the twins staring, the court whispering like vultures.

Kevin reached for me. “Esther—”

I shook my head, numb. “Don’t.”

Then I ran.

I didn’t stop until I reached the far corridor, the stone walls blurring through my tears. I pressed my back against the cold marble and slid down until I was sitting on the floor, my whole body shaking.

I’d thought I couldn’t hate Nicholas more than I already did. But now, as my heart cracked open again, I realized there was something worse than hatred.

Hope, betrayed twice.

Nicholas’s POV

I didn’t remember walking back to my office. I didn’t remember the guards I passed or the servants who scattered at the look on my face.

All I remembered was her voice breaking when she said peace.

Peace. As if I’d ever known what that meant.

Norman was pacing inside me, furious. You wounded her.

“She wounded me first.”

You lied to yourself first.

I grabbed a bottle from the cabinet and poured whiskey into a glass, my hands unsteady. The first swallow burned like punishment. The second didn’t burn enough.

Outside, the last light of evening bled into the horizon, painting the sky the same color as her eyes when she’d said, Don’t speak for me.

I sank into the chair, head in my hands.

She wanted peace. I wanted war.

I’d told myself for weeks that I could rebuild this quietly, that if I stayed close enough, softened enough, she might see me as something other than the monster she’d once known. But the sight of Kevin kneeling at her feet had ripped through every wall I’d built.

Norman snarled. You humiliated her. In front of everyone.

“She humiliated me first,” I muttered.

You’re the Alpha. You could have walked away.

“I couldn’t.”

The silence after that was worse than his anger.

For a long time, I just sat there, staring at nothing, the scent of her tears still sharp in the air.

I told myself I’d done the right thing, exposed her motives, stripped away the illusions. But every time I repeated the lie, it cracked a little more.

I’d seen the truth in her eyes when she’d looked at me. It wasn’t manipulation. It wasn’t pity.

It was grief. I’d shattered it anyway. I drank until the bottle ran dry, until my vision blurred and Norman’s voice faded into static.

When the glass slipped from my fingers and shattered on the floor, I didn’t bother to move.

The shards glittered in the lamplight, sharp and perfect, just like her.

For the first time in years, I felt something dangerously close to regret.