"Let him through," Erald said.
The guards all turned to look at her at the sa ti, and you could see a mont of doubt on their faces.
"I said let him through," she repeated, firr this ti.
They exchanged quick glances before finally stepping aside, though they still looked reluctant.
Rick brushed past them without a word, adjusting his jacket with a hint of irritation, as if trying to shake off the mont. His usual swagger was toned down, but when his eyes found Erald’s, he held her gaze firmly.
There was no smug grin on his face, no cocky glint in his eyes; he just looked... uneasy.
Erald opened her mouth to speak, but a familiar voice beat her to it. "Em?"
She turned sharply, heart giving a brief jolt at the sound. Nessa was weaving her way through the crowd from the back of the gathering, her long braids pulled into a neat bun.
Her normally calm expression showed worry. When she got to Erald, she gently placed her hand on her arm, anchoring her.
"What are you doing back so early?" Nessa asked in a low voice. "I thought you were..."
"Forget that," Erald cut in quickly. Her gaze flicked toward the commotion. "What’s going on here? Why is Rick creating a damn scene in front of our gates?"
Nessa bit her lip, glancing over Erald’s shoulder toward where Rick now stood, waiting in awkward silence.
"You an... you didn’t know?"
Erald frowned. "Didn’t know what?"
"He’s been coming like this," Nessa said. "Every day since you left."
Erald blinked, confused. "What?"
Nessa nodded. "Screaming at the gates, begging to speak to you. Sotis even trying to bribe the guards. He never gave up. I told them not to let him in, but he didn’t stop."
Erald exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers to her temples as the tension started to settle between her eyebrows. "Of course he didn’t."
Rick had always been persistent, stubborn to the point of recklessness. And now, apparently, dramatic.
One drama after another. Always.
She turned back toward him, her heels scraping lightly against the stone as she stepped forward. Rick looked like he was about to speak again, but she got there first.
"Didn’t get the ssage when I ignored all your calls?" she asked, her arms folded tightly across her chest. "Or was the part where I didn’t answer the twenty tis you showed up at my pack not clear enough?"
Rick opened his mouth, but the usual cocky edge in his voice was missing. His tone, when it ca, was unexpectedly low and honest. "No," he said. "But I had to try."
Erald stared.
There was no trace of the smirk he usually wore like armour: no playful deflection, just exhaustion, and sothing else.
Regret?
Rick wasn’t the type to show real emotions. He didn’t do soft voices and dark circles under his eyes. Instead, he relied on smooth words and practised charm. But right now, he looked like a man fraying at the edges.
"I need to talk to you," he said quietly, almost like he wasn’t sure she’d let him. "Privately. It’s important."
She didn’t move right away. She just looked at him for a long mont, trying to assessing him. Then, with a sigh, she turned to the guards.
"Escort him inside. He can wait for there."
Two guards gave her a short nod and gestured for Rick to follow. For once, he didn’t argue. He obeyed quietly.
Erald’s eyes lingered on him as he disappeared inside, her arms still crossed like a barrier around herself.
"What the hell was that?" Kieran asked softly, stepping beside her.
She let out a slow breath. "I was about to ask you the sa thing."
"Want to stay?" he offered gently.
Erald turned to glance at him. There was a warmth in his eyes, one that always appeared when he sensed she was one wrong word away from falling apart.
It was the sa tone he used the day he followed her to the cave that night, the sa tone he used when she ca back from Adrien’s with tear-streaked cheeks and a broken heart.
"No," she whispered. "You’ve done enough for already."
Kieran gave a slight nod, turning to head back toward his car. But halfway there, he paused and looked back.
"What happened... with Adrien?" he asked cautiously.
Erald hesitated, sothing tightening in her chest. Then she looked away, blinking once to push down the sting behind her eyes.
"It’s a long story," she said. "But the short version? He picked soone else as his Luna."
Kieran’s brows lifted, stunned. "What?"
"I saw it with my own eyes," she continued in a cold voice. "He married her. Or he’s about to."
He looked like he’d just been slapped. "Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like..."
"I’m sure," she said flatly.
There was a beat of silence between them, heavy and pulsing.
Kieran clenched his jaw. "Do you... know why?"
Erald shook her head. "I don’t care anymore."
And she ant it.
Maybe Adrien had been forced. Maybe he hadn’t. Either way, it didn’t matter. He’d made his choice, or let it be made for him.
He was gone, and she was done chasing ghosts.
Kieran watched her carefully, then stepped forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
"Call if you need anything," he said quietly.
"Thanks," she murmured.
He turned and got into his car. The gravel crunched under the tires as he pulled away, disappearing down the winding road until he was just another shadow in the distance.
Erald didn’t move.
Things had always been easier with Kieran. No twisted motives, no manipulation. It was just a quiet presence and stability.
Everyone else in her life seed to arrive with chaos clenched in their fists, tossing it into her world like confetti, except it always cut like glass.
But that was over now.
She inhaled deeply, squared her shoulders, and stepped inside.
Rick was pacing the main lounge like a caged animal. His movents were sharp, erratic, as if his skin was too tight for his own bones. His fingers flexed and clenched at his sides.
The sound of her footsteps in the hall made him stop.
He turned and froze.
For a mont, neither of them said a word.
Erald took him in—really looked. His shirt was wrinkled. His usually perfect hair slightly ssy. The practiced charm had slipped. He looked exhausted. Haunted, even.
"What do you want, Rick?" she asked, her tone steady but guarded.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again, eyes full of sothing vulnerable. Sothing real.
And then he said the words. "You were right."
Erald’s brow furrowed. "Right about what?"
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Everything."
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