Chapter 70

Esther’s POV

The moon hung low over the palace courtyard, pale and thin as if it too had been hollowed out by truth.

I hadn’t slept in days. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Carl’s face in that hospital bed, the IV line glowing red with Nicholas’s blood, a thread connecting them that could never be cut again.

Now there was nothing left to hide behind. No lies. No walls. Only truth, raw and sharp as broken glass.

When Nicholas’s messenger summoned me to his study, I almost didn’t go. My heart was a drumbeat of dread in my chest, but Sharon stirred faintly, urging me forward.

He deserves to know everything.

The door creaked open at my push. Nicholas stood near the hearth, firelight playing over his face, gilding his scars in bronze and shadow. He didn’t turn at first, only said quietly, “Close the door.”

I did.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of the fire, the quiet, living crackle of it.

Then he said, still not looking at me, “I know about the twins. But I don’t know why.”

“Because you never wanted to,” I whispered.

His head turned slowly, eyes like stormlight. “Start from the beginning.”

I drew in a shaking breath. “The night you thought I betrayed you. I didn’t run because I was guilty. I ran because I was pregnant. I heard your guards talking about the punishment you’d ordered, how you wanted me dead for defying you.” My voice cracked. “I was terrified, Nicholas. Not of dying. Of them dying with me.”

He flinched. “You thought I would kill my own children?”

“I thought you hated me enough to try.”

Silence. Heavy, suffocating.

I stepped closer, tears stinging my eyes. “I hid because I had no choice. Kevin found me bleeding in the snow. He saved us. I swore to protect the twins, no matter what it cost. That’s why I lied about their father. Why I said they were his.”

He was utterly still. The only movement came from his hands clenched so tight the knuckles went white.

“And the mark?” he asked roughly. “The one on your neck that drove me half-mad thinking he’d claimed you.”

I touched the faint scar at my throat. “When Sharon fell dormant, it reappeared. It was never Kevin’s. It was always yours.”

His jaw tightened, eyes glittering with something that looked too much like pain.

“I lied because I thought you’d take them from me,” I whispered. “Because I thought the Alpha King would always choose his pride over his family.”

He turned away, shoulders rising and falling once, hard.

The fire popped. The sound was deafening.

Finally, he said, “You should have told me.”

“You should have believed me,” I shot back, voice trembling. “You humiliated me. You called me things I still hear when I close my eyes. You made me believe I was less than human.”

He turned then, and the fury in his eyes wasn’t for me this time. It was for himself.

“I know,” he said hoarsely. “And I would burn in every hell there is to take it back.”

My chest cracked open. Six years of fear and grief and guilt spilled out in a single shuddering breath. “I just wanted our children safe.”

He stepped forward, close enough that the scent of cedar and smoke surrounded me. “And now?”

I looked up at him. “Now I want them to have a father who isn’t ruled by rage.”

He didn’t move for a long time. Then he nodded once. “Then I’ll be that man.”

I laughed softly through tears. “Words, Nicholas. You’ve always had plenty of those.”

He reached out then, not to grab, not to command, but to brush a tear from my cheek. The gentleness in that single touch broke me more than any cruelty ever had.

“I don’t expect forgiveness,” he murmured. “Only the chance to earn it.”

Sharon stirred inside me, not a flicker this time, but a steady, pulsing warmth that spread through my veins like sunlight.

The bond hummed alive.

I gasped, a hand flying to my chest.

Nicholas’s eyes widened. “Sharon?”

I nodded, breathless. “She’s awake.”

For a heartbeat, we both stood frozen. The air was alive between us with something fierce and holy.

Then I whispered, “She woke because of truth.”

Nicholas’s POV

Truth.

The word cut deeper than any blade.

Watching Esther’s wolf awaken, seeing that glow ripple through her, was like watching dawn break inside my own ribs. Norman howled in joy, circling like a storm.

Mate. Whole again.

I wanted to reach for her, to pull her against me, to bury every apology in her hair. But I didn’t. Not yet.

She deserved my restraint as much as my remorse.

Instead, I stepped back, swallowing the ache in my throat. “There’s something else you should know.”

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

“The reason they called you a murderer. The reason the elders used to keep you chained in guilt.” I turned toward my desk, sliding open a drawer. “I had Dan track every surviving witness from that night. And we found one.”

Her breath caught. “You mean—?”

I placed a folder on the table between us. The top photo showed a pale young woman with scarred arms and terrified eyes. “Princess Emily is alive.”

Esther’s hands flew to her mouth. A strangled sound escaped her. “Alive?”

“She fled the night of the explosion. Amanda’s family staged it to frame you, to consolidate their power. They kept her hidden for years. Dan found her last week in the southern provinces.”

Her knees almost gave. “Oh, Goddess…”

“She’s agreed to testify,” I said quietly. “Once she does, your name will be cleared. The world will know what was done to you.”

Tears slid down her cheeks, silent and relentless. “After all this time…”

I moved around the desk, standing close enough to feel her tremble. “You won’t have to run anymore, Esther. Not from me. Not from them.”

She looked up, eyes shimmering. “And the children?”

“They’ll have both their parents. Publicly, openly. No more hiding.”

Her lips parted, the faintest ghost of a smile there. “Do you really think the world will forgive that easily?”

“No,” I said. “But they’ll have to watch while I do.”

Her laugh was soft and broken. “You’re impossible.”

“Persistent,” I corrected, reaching out to tilt her chin up. “It’s how I found my way back to you.”

For the first time in years, her eyes didn’t flinch from mine.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For fighting for the truth.”

“No.” I shook my head. “For the first time, I’m fighting for us.”

Sharon’s warmth pulsed between us again, a steady rhythm that matched Norman’s heartbeat in my mind. Mate to mate. Life to life.

We stood there in the quiet, two people forged in fire finally finding peace in the ashes.

Outside, the dawn broke over the palace, pale light spilling across the horizon, painting gold over all that had once been shadow.

Weeks later, Emily’s testimony spread across every news feed. The headlines that once damned Esther now hailed her as the healer who saved the kingdom’s heir.

The elders who’d condemned her resigned in shame. Amanda and Bobby remained in exile, powerless.

In the courtyard, Carl and Sofia chased each other beneath the spring trees — laughing, whole, unaware of the blood and sorrow that had carved the path here.

Esther watched them from the balcony, sunlight threading through her hair. When I came up behind her, she didn’t flinch this time.

“They’re happy,” I said quietly.

“They’re safe,” she corrected. “That’s enough.”

“For now,” I said, wrapping an arm gently around her waist. “But I’m not done proving myself.”

Her lips curved. “Then you’d better start with breakfast. Carl’s already challenging you to another sparring match.”

I groaned. “The boy nearly took out my knee last time.”

She laughed, the sound light and startlingly free. “You’ll survive.”

“Because you’ll heal me?”

Her gaze softened. “Because I finally believe you can heal yourself.”

She turned toward me, eyes shining in the morning light. I leaned down, not demanding, not claiming, simply asking.

This time, when our lips met, it wasn’t the desperate collision of enemies, but the slow, trembling promise of something new.

Forgiveness. Family. Forever, in whatever fragile form it might take.

When we broke apart, she whispered against my mouth, “Welcome home, Nicholas.”

For the first time in a lifetime, I believed her.