Chapter 65

Esther’s POV

Rain came early that morning, as if the sky couldn’t stand the weight of my silence anymore.

It washed the palace roofs, turned the gardens into mirrors, and ran like veins through the cobblestones. Inside my chest, it echoed perfectly, a steady, empty rhythm where purpose used to live.

Three days had passed since the wedding that wasn’t.

Kevin had returned to Blue Lake to “manage the damage.” I hadn’t heard from him since.

And Nicholas? He’d gone quiet again, the kind of quiet that means movement in the shadows, like a wolf crouched before a strike.

Dan found me in the infirmary, sleeves rolled up, trying to lose myself in paperwork that didn’t need doing.

“You look like you haven’t slept,” he said, setting a steaming mug beside me.

“I haven’t,” I replied flatly.

He hesitated, then reached into his coat pocket and slid a folded photograph across the desk. The edges were frayed, the color worn with age.

“You should see this.”

I frowned. “What is it?”

“Something I found in the Blue Lake archives. From before the uprising.”

I picked it up and froze.

A woman stared back at me.

Soft brown hair. Hazel eyes. A faint smile that curved the same way mine did when I pretended everything was fine. She looked exactly like me, or rather, I looked like her.

“Who is this?” My voice came out thin, scraped raw.

“Her name was Ruth,” Dan said. “Kevin’s Luna. Died six years ago.”

The room tilted. “That’s not possible. She—she looks like—”

“I know.” His expression was grim. “That’s why I’m showing you. You needed to see the resemblance for yourself.”

I stared at the photo until my vision blurred. The details burned into me, the gentle slope of her nose, the curve of her chin, the way her hair caught the light.

It was me. It was me in another life, another name, another tragedy.

“He used me,” I whispered. “He saw her in me.”

Dan didn’t deny it. “You deserve to know who you’re promising your life to.”

I stood so quickly my chair scraped the floor. “I have to go.”

“Esther—”

I was already gone.

The Blue Lake compound loomed like a memory I hadn’t asked for, familiar and foreign, wrapped in the scent of pine and regret. Guards recognized me and stepped aside, eyes downcast. Word traveled fast in packs; they all knew the Alpha King’s interference had left the political air poisoned.

wasn’t here for politics. I was here for the truth.

Kevin was in his study, bent over a map when I entered. He looked up, startled, then smiled with weary relief. “Esther, you’re safe. I was about to send for you—”

“Who is Ruth?” I interrupted.

The smile froze. “What?”

“You heard me.” I pulled the photograph from my pocket and slapped it onto the desk between us. The woman’s eyes gleamed up at him like ghosts in candlelight. “Who is she?”

He stared at the image for a long, long time. His shoulders sagged. “Where did you get that?”

“Does it matter?” My voice shook. “She looks like me, Kevin. Exactly like me.”

His silence was answer enough.

“You said you loved me,” I whispered. “Was that ever true, or was I just her shadow?”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Esther, please—”

“Answer me!”

When he finally looked at me, I almost wished he hadn’t. The guilt in his eyes was worse than denial.

He didn’t speak at first, just exhaled through his teeth, gaze drifting to the window as if searching for mercy there.

“Ruth was my mate,” he said quietly. “She died when rogues attacked the Blue Lake border. I tried to save her, but…” His jaw tightened. “She bled out in my arms.”

My throat burned. “And when you met me—”

“You looked like her,” he finished hoarsely. “You were her. The same eyes, the same voice. For a long time, I thought maybe I had been given a second chance.”

I took a step back, shaking. “So this—us—was never real?”

“It became real,” he said quickly. “I swear it did. I loved Ruth, yes, but I love you too, Esther. I do.”

“Because I remind you of her.”

He flinched. “No. Because you healed something in me I didn’t think could be healed.”

I laughed, hollow and sharp. “You don’t even hear yourself. You didn’t fall in love with me. You resurrected her in my skin.”

He reached for me. I recoiled.

“Don’t,” I said. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

“Esther, please. Don’t let one photograph undo everything we’ve built—”

“Built?” I spat. “What have we built, Kevin? Lies stacked on grief? Pretending I could fill a grave you refused to leave?”

He froze. The truth landed like a slap.

“I thought Nicholas was the cruel one,” I whispered, tears spilling hot down my cheeks. “But at least he never looked at me and saw someone else.”

Kevin’s mouth opened, then closed again. He looked suddenly smaller, older, like a man stripped of all his justifications.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “For everything. I didn’t mean to—”

“—Use me? Rewrite her with my face?” I shook my head. “You meant every bit of it.”

The silence between us was unbearable.

Finally, I turned toward the door. “It’s over, Kevin.”

He didn’t stop me.

The rain hadn’t let up. By the time I reached the road, it had soaked through my clothes, chilling me to the bone. But the cold felt good, or honest, at least.

I walked until my legs burned, until the palace gates rose again out of the mist. The guards didn’t question me this time. Maybe they saw something in my face that told them not to.

Inside, the corridors were quiet. Too quiet. News of my broken engagement must have already reached them. Good. Let the whispers start again. I was done trying to control them.

I went straight to the infirmary. The twins were still asleep. Carl’s arm had mended, though his dreams looked troubled. Sofia had curled up beside him, her tiny hand on his chest, as if she could keep him safe by will alone.

I sat beside them, brushing damp hair from their faces. My children. My truth. The only thing that ever mattered.

Somehow, I’d almost lost them, chasing a love that wasn’t real, a memory that wasn’t mine.

I leaned back in the chair, exhaustion flooding in.

For the first time in years, I felt empty. Not in the broken way, in the clearing way. The kind that comes before something new takes root.

Later that night, I wandered to the courtyard. Rain still whispered against the stones, silver in the torchlight. Somewhere, far off, a wolf howled, low and mournful.

Nicholas’s shadow appeared before I even saw him. I knew the cadence of his steps now, the deliberate weight of each one.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said.

I didn’t look at him. “Worried I’ll drown myself in a puddle?”

His voice softened. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

Silence stretched between us. The scent of wet cedar drifted closer. I felt him standing just behind me, like gravity I didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I heard about Kevin,” he said finally.

“Of course you did.” I turned, meeting his gaze. “You hear everything.”

He studied me quietly. “You look different.”

“Enlightened,” I said bitterly. “Turns out the man I almost married only loved me because I looked like his dead wife.”

His jaw clenched. “Ruth.”

I blinked. “You knew?”

“I suspected.” His eyes softened, regret flickering there. “But it wasn’t my truth to tell.”

I laughed again, but this time it wasn’t cruel. Just tired. “You both kept your truths until they could destroy me.”

Nicholas took a step forward, voice low. “And yet you’re still standing.”

“Barely.”

“You’re stronger than you think.”

I met his gaze, searching for mockery. Found none. Only something heavy and real.

“I don’t know what I think anymore,” I admitted. “Everything I’ve believed about love, loyalty. It’s all ash.”

He reached out, fingers brushing a strand of wet hair from my cheek. “Ash is where new things grow.”

My breath caught.

For once, there was no game, no accusation, no power between us. Just two people standing in the ruins of everything they’d built, wondering if rebuilding was even possible.

I stepped back before I could want more.

“Don’t,” I said softly. “Not tonight.”

He nodded once, eyes shadowed. “As you wish.”

As he walked away, I felt the ghost of his warmth fade with him. For a long moment, I stood alone in the rain, staring at the horizon where dawn might someday break.

That night, I sat by the twins again and whispered my promise into the dark.

“No more lies. Not from me. Not from anyone.”

Carl stirred but didn’t wake. Sofia sighed in her sleep, a tiny sound of peace.

I brushed their hair, kissed their foreheads, and finally allowed myself to breathe.

Maybe I was broken. Maybe I was burnt. Even ashes remember what they used to be, and I could feel something stirring beneath mine.

Not yet hope, not quite, but the shape of it. The beginning of it. A seed ready to rise when the light came back.