Chapter 78: Chapter 78

LENORE

“...Can I ask you something, Killian?”

The King’s hatred for Killian was something that had weighed on me ever since I learned about it. It was beyond unnatural after all: wanting to make the second prince powerful by killing all the pack representatives, so he could kill Killian, and now, using mind-control to command me to kill him. Killing him wasn’t even something I could do—he just wanted to hurt Killian because he knew Killian adored me, and I wanted to know why. Especially seeing as he loved Killian’s mother so much—why else would he have that giant portrait of her in the audience room?

“Anything,” Killian answered before pressing a gentle kiss to my upper thigh where my hoodie had ridden up.

“Your father…” I started and his shoulders tensed immediately. “Why does he hate you so much?”

Several moments passed without a response and just as I thought I wasn't going to get one, he muttered something against my thigh. The only word I caught was his and I drew my brows together. “What?”

He sucked in a breath and I resumed running my finger through his hair, patiently waiting for him to speak. “...I’m his curse, Lenore.”

I froze, my hand stilling in his hair, before my frown deepened as he lifted his head. “I don’t understand.”

“Do you know what happened at the last diplomatic gathering?” he asked and I was about to nod before realizing I’d only heard the werewolf version of events. There was a good chance the story had been altered to make them look like undeserving victims.

“Just that you killed the werewolf prince.”

A short, humorless laugh escaped him and he took another deep breath, shutting his eyes for a moment. “He killed my mother, Lenore.”

My heart dropped. What?

“There was a traveling circus in the city that day… I rarely left the palace, so mother…” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “...encouraged me to go with Fabien and the others. She couldn’t come with us because father wouldn’t let her leave the palace, so she asked me to bring her souvenirs.”

He frowned and I took his hand. That seemed to ground him.

“The palace was locked down pretty tightly because of the werewolf delegation staying in the city then. They were in the process of having peace talks with my father, but he still didn’t want to risk anything. So I, uh… ended up sneaking out of the palace.” Dropping his gaze to our hands, his fingers tightened slightly around mine. “It wasn’t the first time I’d snuck out, but doing it that day was stupid. I was stupid. I was her protector, and I left without telling anyone else. If my father knew I was leaving, it probably wouldn’t have happened…”

My heart ached as I watched him sink further. It was as though he was reliving every second of that day, so I cupped his face, gently forcing his attention back to me.

“Killian,” I called and his gaze snapped to mine, his brows lifting for a moment. Then he clicked his tongue and looked away again.

“Yeah, uh… my stepmother’s daughter and Rollan—the prince—had a thing, so she… snuck him into the palace because he wanted to see the gardens…” Another dry laugh escaped him, and he dragged a hand down his face while a chill ran through me. “Fool,” he whispered, his eyes darkening. “...I came back to find him standing over my mother’s body.”

My breath caught.

“There was…” He stopped, his throat working as he swallowed. “...nothing I could do. The blade had gone clean through her heart and, uh… I killed him. I killed that fool too, but… it… it didn’t bring her back.” His bottom lip trembled, and something in my chest broke at the sight of him trying so hard to hold himself together.

“If I’d been there…” His voice cracked beneath the weight of guilt he'd carried long before he knew me. “She would still be alive.”

Helplessness washed over me, and I quickly brought my other hand to his face. “No, Killian.” He was only thirteen... maybe fourteen when it happened—

“My father and I already didn’t have a good relationship before that,” he continued, his voice steady even as guilt hollowed out his expression. “He always kept his distance because a witch cursed him before I was born… said I would bring about his ruin, so uh… I guess failing my mother was the first step.” His lips curved into a small, sad smile.

My heart broke.

I slid off the couch and dropped to my knees in front of him, throwing my arms around him as tears welled in my eyes and spilled over. “You didn’t fail anyone, Killian. You were a child.”

“One that should have known better.”

“Stop it!” I hissed. He'd spent decades tearing himself apart with guilt that had never been his to carry, and his father had only fed it.

I hated it. I hated everyone who had made him believe he deserved that burden. And I hated that I couldn’t reach back through all those years and save him from it.

“...He’s never going to stop trying to hurt me, Lenore,” Killian murmured against my hair, his hand trembling slightly as it moved over my back. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I dragged you into this.”

I tightened my arms around him as I remembered his father’s commands while mind-controlling me. I should have been scared. After all, this was a decades-old conflict between two supernaturals, and the King would most likely try to hurt me again just to get to him. But I didn’t want to leave him.

Virginia’s question came back to mind, and I blinked, the words leaving me before I could properly think them through. “Can vampires have mates, Killian?”

“...My parents were mates.”

Oh… My heart skipped a beat. “Could we be mates?”

“...Yes.”

A fluttering warmth spread through my chest. “Are we mates?”

His silence told me everything.

I sucked in a breath as the warmth flooded through the rest of my body before I pulled back to stare at his face which held a slightly sheepish expression. My heart fluttered even more. “How long have you known?”

“The day of the rogue attack,” he muttered, dropping his gaze, but I didn’t let him hide from me for long.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He swallowed. “Forever is a long time, Lenore… I didn’t want to spook you.”

I'd kind of had the same thought two days ago. Not because forever was a long time, but because I wasn't immortal, so our ideas of forever were very different. Except… he turned me.

I still didn't know how I felt about that, but I knew one thing with absolute certainty—I wanted to be with him.

“Do I look spooked?” I asked, smiling,

He stared at me for a moment, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip before a faint, almost disbelieving smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I guess not.” He cupped the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my curls, before crashing his lips against mine.

My breath was stolen almost instantly, and when his tongue swept across my lower lip, the kiss deepened, growing hungrier by the second. A low, rumbling sound vibrated in his chest, wrapping around me until he was all I could hear... all I could feel.

Then he broke the kiss to whisper one word against my lips, “Mine.”

Heat exploded through me, racing down my spine and pooling low in my belly as he kissed me again, harder this time, like he was trying to brand himself into my memory. When he finally broke the kiss so we could breathe, resting his forehead against mine, his gaze was dark and molten while my heart hammered wildly against my chest.

“That hoodie is the only thing you're wearing, Lenore,” he murmured, his voice rough. His gaze dipped briefly before returning to mine, his tongue darting out to sweep over his bottom lip. “And everyone is in the study… We should stop here.”

My face flushed, and a soft chuckle escaped him before I smacked his arm. Then I got to my feet, feeling his gaze follow me as I moved. He pressed a lingering kiss to my thigh before I walked over to one of my drawers and grabbed a pair of shorts. As I pulled them on, azure eyes flashed through my mind again and I shut my eyes, trying to push the image away, but another memory surfaced instead—the sensation of something else moving through me while the King held my mind captive in the audience room.

I blinked and pressed a hand to my chest, realizing that I hadn’t felt it since I left the audience room.

“Lenore?” Killian’s voice snapped me out of it and I turned to find him next to me, worry etched across his expression.

I gave him a reassuring smile despite the confusion swirling in me. “Sorry. I was just thinking of Calley… well, the Calley I saw in my dream,” I lied. I’d been sure that sensation didn’t come from the King’s magic yesterday morning, but what did I even know about magic? I just wanted to put the mind-control behind me.

“Oh,” Killian muttered, his expression relaxing. “I believe that was my mother.”

My brows shot up, and then the color of her eyes hit me. Oh!

“She most likely used Calley’s face so she wouldn’t overwhelm you,” he added, his mouth twitching into a small smile.

“But how did… I…” His mother was dead, but in my dream, she hadn’t felt like someone who was gone—she had felt real.

“She’s dead, but her soul isn’t gone, Lenore,” he said softly. “She meets me in my dreams once in a while.”

I nodded, slowly processing his words before realization dawned on me. ”Is that what you were doing yesterday morning?”

His jaw clenched, and I almost grimaced as guilt flashed across his face. “Yes… I’m sorry, Lenore.”

“I told—”

"Would His Royal Highness be willing to join us for a moment?" a familiar voice called from the hallway outside the bedroom.