A smile tugged at Erald’s lips. She turned just enough to glance back at him over her shoulder and uttered a single word. "Beg."
Rick stared at her like he hadn’t heard her correctly. His brows knit together in confusion, and his mouth parted slightly.
"What?"
Erald’s face didn’t change. Her voice ca out flat, cool, unflinching. "You heard ."
"Beg?" he repeated, incredulous. "You want to—?"
"If you want protection," she interrupted, arms folding again across her chest, "if you want my rcy... you’ll earn it. On your knees."
He looked at her like she’d grown a second head. "You’re not serious."
Her stare didn’t waver.
Rick let out a disbelieving breath and scoffed. "Why the hell would I do that? I didn’t even hurt you."
Erald’s eyes flashed. "Didn’t hurt ?"
He seed to sense the shift, the tension coiling in the air like a noose tightening.
"You had tortured," she said, voice sharp but low. "Because Alia pointed a finger and cried wolf."
"I thought—" Rick started, lifting his hands slightly, "I thought you killed my brother’s heir!"
Erald’s lips twitched—not into a smile, but sothing far darker. "Your brother’s heir?" she asked, taking a step closer. "Or yours?"
The question landed like a slap.
Rick’s entire body stilled. His mouth opened—then closed again.
"What are you talking about?" he said, though his voice had dropped. "That’s not—What are you implying?"
"Oh, don’t play dumb now," Erald said, a scowl creeping onto her face. "I already know the truth. Found out a while ago. Made everything make sense."
Rick’s jaw tightened. "There’s nothing to—"
"You cheated, Rick," she snapped. "Cheated on while I was running around covering for your incompetence. Lied to my face. Lied to everyone."
He stepped back slightly. "No, I didn’t—"
"You did," she said coldly. "And don’t insult by denying it again."
The rage in her chest had settled into sothing sharper now, like a knife she was turning carefully in her palm. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to.
Her silence made him sweat more than her shouting ever could.
Rick looked around like he expected soone to burst in and interrupt this nightmare for him. When no one did, he rubbed his hand over his mouth and exhaled shakily.
"How... how did you find out?" he asked quietly.
Erald didn’t answer.
He stared at her for a second, then lowered his head. "I’m sorry."
She raised a brow. "Are you?"
"It happened once. One night. I was drunk. We’d fought—"
"Stop." Erald’s voice turned ice-cold. "Lying."
Rick looked up, startled.
"You’re lying," she repeated. "Try again."
He hesitated—then slumped a little, as though the air had been knocked from him.
"It did start that way," he muttered. "One night. We argued. You walked out. I drank too much... Alia ca to ."
Erald tilted her head. "And?"
"And it wasn’t just once," he admitted, his voice tight. "It continued. For a while. A few weeks. Then... the pregnancy."
She felt a flash of nausea—but she didn’t show it.
Not this ti.
"You pathetic piece of shit," she said calmly.
Rick flinched.
"You slept with your brother’s mate. While cheating on your own. And you still thought she’d be honest and loyal to you?"
Rick clenched his jaw. "I wasn’t thinking."
"No. You were," Erald said. "You just didn’t care."
His lips parted like he wanted to argue—but nothing ca out.
"You let her use you," she said. "Let her lie, fra, manipulate—and you stood there, smiling, while she set fire to every part of my life."
"I didn’t know," he whispered.
"You didn’t want to know."
They stared at each other, locked in the kind of silence that echoed with every betrayal, every burned bridge.
Rick’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
Erald gave a humorless smile.
"You really want my help?" she asked again. "Then beg."
The words had barely left her lips before the door creaked open behind them.
Both of them turned.
Darius stepped inside, brows furrowed, taking in the sight of Rick’s pale face and Erald’s sharp smirk.
"Everything alright in here?" he asked, stepping into the room slowly.
Erald smiled without turning. "Not at all, Uncle. He was just about to earn my rcy."
Darius raised a brow but said nothing. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorfra like he’d seen enough already.
Erald turned her attention back to Rick, who was still rooted in place.
"Well?" she asked.
He didn’t move.
Not at first.
She could almost see the war inside him—the pride clawing at him, refusing to let go. His spine was stiff, shoulders tense, and his eyes flicked toward the door like it might offer him an exit from this humiliation.
But there wasn’t one.
"I still love you," he said suddenly.
Erald blinked, then laughed. "That’s cute."
"I’m serious."
"Love?" she echoed, voice laced with mockery. "Now you want to talk about love?"
"Erald, please," he said, a crack in his voice. "Forget everything. Start over. Give us another chance."
She tilted her head. "Beg."
He looked at the floor. Then at her. Then at the door again.
And finally, slowly, Rick dropped to his knees.
The sound of it was faint. A whisper of knees hitting hardwood. But it was loud enough to bring a ripple of satisfaction through her chest.
"I’m sorry," he said, not eting her eyes. "I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve known Alia was playing . I let my pride blind , and I let you down."
She didn’t speak.
"I’m begging," Rick added, lifting his head slightly. "For your rcy. For your help. For... you."
Erald’s face didn’t move.
"I still want you back," Rick said. "And I’m doing this to prove I’m not too proud to ask for forgiveness."
"Mm." Erald stepped around him slowly, circling him like a wolf deciding whether to bite. "And how do you plan to make yourself an ally now, Rick? You’ve betrayed everyone. Twice."
He lifted his head fully, expression determined. "I already have it thought out."
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