Chapter 40

Isla POV

I'm already being judged and treated badly… if this gets out, I have no idea what might happen.

“Thank you, Lily.” I managed, though my voice was shaky. “Truly.”

She nodded once, then gestured toward the hall. “We should get back. Before anyone notices.”

I forced myself to straighten, smooth the edge of my skirts, and follow her.

But the taste of Kieran still lingered on my lips, making every step feel like treachery.

The great hall was quieter when we returned.

By now, the laughter and clinking glasses had dwindled as only a few guests lingered, talking in low voices as servants moved between them collecting goblets and discarded plates.

The aftermath of the party felt hollow, the former shine and pump worn away, leaving behind only exhaustion.

The maids and servants were scampering about, picking up dirty dishes in a robotic manner, but in their haste, they mixed up some of the dishes and I had to step in.

I latched onto the distraction gratefully. “Make sure the silver is polished before it’s stored,” I told one servant, then to another, “Stack the platters carefully—no chips this time.” My voice was brisk, almost harsh, but it steadied me, gave me something to hold on to besides the crazy storm brewing inside my chest.

I was directing a maid toward the tapestries when a shadow fell over me.

“Isla.”

The sound of my name on his lips made me stiffen.

Tristan.

I turned, expecting the cool detachment that always lined his face when he spoke to me.

But what I saw instead nearly knocked me off balance. His gaze was soft, his expression… concerned.

If I didn't know he was incapable of that emotion when it comes to me, I would have thought that he cared.

“You look flushed,” he said, his voice gentler than I’d ever heard it. “Are you unwell?”

My stomach lurched.

If only he knew why I was flushed.

If only he could smell the guilt clinging to my skin.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, too quickly, taking a step back.

“Are you sure?” He frowned, stepping closer. “You’ve been working since morning. I know that sometimes the stress can be a lot. Do you want me to take care of the cleanup?”

My mouth dropped open in surprise.

I blinked at him, stunned.

Tristan, the man who’d barely looked at me since the wedding, who kept himself wrapped in layers of ice and memories of another…. was suddenly offering to ease my burden?

The bond stirred violently, my wolf whimpering inside me, craving the connection it was starved of.

And all I could think of was Kieran’s mouth on mine, Kieran’s hand steadying me when I nearly fell apart.

Dammit.

Guilt stabbed once again, sharp and deep.

“No, truly,” I said, forcing a small smile, though my voice trembled. “I can handle it. You don’t need to trouble yourself.”

He studied me a moment longer, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

Then he gave a short nod, though not before his hand lifted as if to touch my arm, hesitating midway as if he changed his mind and then dropped it again.

I swallowed hard, suddenly desperate for distance and fresh air. “I should see to the wine casks,” I muttered, retreating toward the servants.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Kieran across the room.

He was just standing there, not helping the staff or mingling with the last of the guests…. he's just watching.

Watching me with pure hunger blazing in his eyes. Then his gaze shifted to Tristan, his jaw tight and his expression turning dark.

The guilt doubled, nearly crushing me under its weight.

I turned away, unable to bear it any longer.

The night wound down very slowly, the hall emptying until only the servants remained, stacking chairs and folding linens.

My body was weary, bones dripping with exhaustion but my mind would not rest.

Every word Tristan had spoken replayed in my head, wrapped in that uncharacteristic tenderness.

What in the goddess's name had happened out there?

Every look from Kieran burned against my skin, making the memory of the kiss flash past my mind.

By the time I finally excused myself, claiming fatigue but in truth, my emotions were a tangled mess of longing, guilt, and fear.

I climbed the staircase to the upper corridors, the flicker of torches painting the walls in soft gold. The castle was quiet now, the kind of silence that makes every sound louder.

My footsteps echoed softly, steady, until another sound broke through…. Hushed whispers.

I slowed, pressing myself against the wall near the bend of the corridor. Two maids were huddled together, their voices low but urgent.

“Did you hear?” one whispered. “They say she was spotted near the northern border.”

“Viviana?” the other gasped, her eyes wide.

“Yes. A traveler swore it. Said she was alive and well, moving between packs.” The other lady swore vehemently as if she were there.

I froze, my muscles locking into place.

Viviana.

She's the threat to my very existence in this place.

My heart stuttered painfully, the mate bond twisting like a knife inside me.

If she truly was near… if she truly was alive…

Then everything… my fragile marriage, the shaky respect that I had managed to gain from the staff, my place in this pack, even the secret kiss I’d just shared… everything would go up in flames.

I stood in the shadows, trembling, as the weight of the rumor pressed down on me.

I should be happy, shouldn't I?

After all, it was all I ever wanted. I could slink back to my room and spend the rest of my time there but now that I realized that her coming back is much closer than I thought I felt reluctant to let go of all of this

And for the first time since the night began, I wished desperately that I’d never tasted Kieran’s lips.

Never.