Chapter 38

Isla POV

I shoved past him before the tears could fall, before he could see how much his words still tore at me.

By the time I reached my room, my hands were shaking, my throat aches with the tears filling them. I pushed the door open with more force than necessary, desperate for the silence.

But of course, I wasn’t alone.

He was there.

Kieran.

Leaning casually against the window frame, the waning sunlight painting his sharp features in bronze.

His eyes found me the moment I entered, that lazy, infuriating grin tugging at his lips.

“Welcome back,” he drawled.

I froze in the doorway,my exhaustion curdling into fury.

“What are you doing in my room?”

He tilted his head, unbothered by my tone. “Waiting for you.”

I dropped the shawl from my shoulders, glaring.

“Why does everyone treat my room like it’s a revolving door? Do I need to put up a sign? ‘Luna’s Quarters: Please Enter Without Permission’?”

He chuckled, a low and amused sound that annoyed me to my spine, or wherever else someone could be annoyed to.

“You’d be surprised how many would take you up on that.”

My jaw clenched.

“Get out, Kieran.”

Instead of moving, he pushed off the frame and stalked closer, his movements slow, deliberate, predatory.

“You don’t really want me to leave.”

“Yes, I do.”

He stopped just short of me, his presence filling the space, his wolf pressing against mine like smoke slipping under a door.

“Then why is your pulse racing?”

“Because you’re in my space,” I snapped.

The lie tasted bitter on my tongue but I kept my cool.

Kieran was already way too cocky. I don't need to inflate his ego anymore.

Not to mention, my heart was beating that fast from the torrent of emotions I felt whenever I thought about Richard and Berrilyn.

If I were being honest with myself, I knew the signs were there, I just wanted to remain oblivious and head over heels in love with Richard.

I guess I'll never be wanted enough. Maybe I'll always be the placeholder…. The Omega girl who was always looked down on and chosen as the last option.

“That's a lie and you know it.” Kieran’s voice snapped me back to the present, reminding me that we were halfway through a conversation.

But at the moment I wasn't focusing on his words but his voice.

It was low, steady, threaded with a warmth I hadn’t realized I’d been craving until it wrapped around me.

“Whatever, Kieran, just leave.” I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I will if you turn to look at me.” His tone had dipped to a sultry timbre.

Rolling my eyes, I turned because I knew he would only keep pestering me until I gave in, and there he was…. framed by the soft glow of the lanterns.

His tie was gone, shirt collar open, his dark hair mussed like he’d been dragging his hands through it.

It's in times like these that I remember how different he looks from Tristan, yet somehow his presence filled the night just as much.

“Alright, I'm looking. Are you going to leave now?” I kept my sassy tone even though my heart thudded against my chest the second his eyes met mine.

‘I will as soon as you tell me what's wrong with you.” He takes a step closer, causing the distance between us to become charged with an emotion I refused to name.

Swallowing, I broke his gaze, looking elsewhere. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I meant. I knew that something had happened in there. What happened?” He pressed.

My cheek started to heat up but for a different reason.

How weird is it that my mate doesn't even throw me a second glance or notice when something's wrong with me, but his brother, a man who acts cavalier with everyone, picks up on the second my mood changes?

“Kieran, please leave,” I whispered, my shoulders falling. “You shouldn't be out here.”

“Neither should you,” he said simply, stepping even closer. “You shouldn’t be out here hurting while everyone else pretends not to see it.”

My throat tightened, the words catching before I could form them.

That was the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me.

I wanted to tell him I wasn’t hurting, that Richard didn’t matter anymore. But Kieran’s eyes- those storm-grey eyes- looked at me like I was the most important thing that he had seen, and suddenly I didn’t have the strength to lie.

I dropped my gaze, blinking hard. “You saw them, didn’t you? How did you know?”

“Yeah, I did see them. Plus, it wasn't hard for me to piece two and two together.” His voice softened. “And you don’t deserve that.”

The compassion in his tone sliced deeper than Richard’s betrayal ever could. My chest ached, the bond inside me pulling one way, my heart tugging another.

Standing here with Kieran made me realize something.

He might be a rogue and an unfeeling person to others, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

I didn't notice at first, but Kieran constantly turning up at the most random places wasn't him just being an annoying pest, it was his own way of checking up on me and making sure that I was all right.

His comments, which were sometimes loaded with barbs, had never sounded demeaning or insulting. If anything, it gave me a sense of quiet strength.

“Don’t do that,” I murmured, shaking my head. “Don’t be kind to me right now. I’ll fall apart.”

“Then fall,” Kieran said, his words firm, his hand brushing mine on the banister as he moved closer. “I’ll catch you.”

The contact was light, just a touch, but it lit up my skin like fire.

My breath stuttered.

His fingers lingered, curling slightly until they covered mine, warm and firm.

I should’ve pulled away.

Every fiber of me screamed that this was wrong. Tristan was my mate.

That bond was sacred, undeniable, chosen by the goddess herself. But Tristan wasn’t here.

Tristan hadn’t even looked at me tonight, too busy drowning in the ghost of Viviana.

And I was tired of pretending to be so strong all the time.

It would be nice to lean on someone even if it was just for a short while.

And Kieran was here. Looking at me like I was the only person that mattered.

My voice shook when I finally spoke, trusting my voice not to betray me. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Don’t I?” His hand tightened over mine, not forceful, but grounding. His other hand came up, brushing against my cheek. The tenderness in that gesture nearly made me fall apart.

With him being this close, his scent curled around my nostrils, the fragrance of whiskey, sandalwood, smoke, and pine all blending together into a smooth mix.

“You’re Tristan’s brother,” I breathed, the words sounding more like a plea than a protest.

“No, I'm not. I’m me, Isla,” Kieran whispered. “Not Tristan. Not his shadow. Just me. And I see you.”

That was it.