Chapter 29 Chapter 29

Chapter 29 Chapter 29
Lyra
Night settles over the mountain like a living thing.
Dinner had been quiet, a little too quiet. Riven barely touched his food, his attention divided between me and the unseen world beyond the villa walls. I tried to eat, for the baby, for myself, but the weight in my chest refused to lift.
So I step outside.
The patio opens wide, stone cool beneath my bare feet, the infinity pool stretching out like liquid glass, reflecting the moon and a sky so clear it feels unreal. Below, the mountains fall away into darkness, layers of shadow and silver mist rolling endlessly toward the horizon.
It’s breathtaking.
And lonely.
I rest my hands on the railing, breathing in pine, cold air, freedom, and then I feel it.
That unmistakable pull.
My gaze drifts instinctively to the tree line across the clearing.
At first, I see nothing.
Then movement.
A shape separates itself from the shadows. Massive. Still. Silent. Moonlight catches silver fur, eyes glowing faintly, fixed entirely on me.
My heart stumbles.
Kael.
He doesn’t approach. He doesn’t retreat. He just watches.
The way he always used to when he thought I wasn’t looking.
I swallow, my chest tightening. “You shouldn’t be here,” I whisper, though I know he can’t hear me. Or maybe he can. Wolves hear everything.
Behind me, the soft scrape of footsteps.
Riven steps onto the patio, presence immediate, alert. He follows my line of sight, nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply.
“Kael,” he says quietly.
I nod, unable to look away. “He’s here.”
Riven moves closer, not touching me, but close enough that I feel his warmth at my back. Protective. Controlled.
“He’s watching,” Riven adds, voice low.
“But why?” The words slip out before I can stop them.
Why is he here?
Why now?
Riven studies the wolf across the clearing, eyes sharp. “Because rejecting you didn’t stop him from loving you.”
Pain flares sharp and sudden. “Then why did he do it?”
Silence stretches between us, filled only by the soft lap of water against the pool’s edge and the distant cry of a night bird.
“Because some Alphas confuse sacrifice with cruelty,” Riven finally says.
My fingers curl into the stone railing. “He told me to leave. To go build a life with you. He called himself nothing but a rejected mate.”
Riven exhales slowly. “And did it sound like the truth?”
I close my eyes.
No.
It sounded like a lie someone tells when the truth hurts too much to survive.
Across the clearing, Kael shifts slightly. Just enough to remind me he’s real. That this isn’t a dream or a cruel trick of the moon.
“He looks like he’s guarding,” I whisper.
“He is,” Riven replies. “From a distance.”
“Even after he let me go?”
“Yes.”
My throat tightens. “That’s not fair.”
“To you?” Riven asks.
“To him,” I admit.
Riven doesn’t argue.
Kael lowers himself into the grass, powerful body relaxed but alert, eyes never leaving me. The sight punches the breath from my lungs. This is what he used to do outside my window. This is how he watched when he thought loving me meant keeping me safe, not close.
“He’s not trying to take me,” I say softly.
“No,” Riven agrees. “If he wanted to, he’d already be here.”
The realization settles heavy in my chest.
Kael is choosing distance.
Choosing pain.
Choosing me.
I turn slightly, glancing at Riven. “Does it bother you?”
His jaw tightens for half a second before he answers honestly. “Yes.”
“But?” I prompt.
“But I understand it.”
That surprises me.
“He’s bonded to you,” Riven continues. “Rejection doesn’t sever that. It just wounds it. Deeply.”
My hand drifts to my stomach again, instinctive. “And the baby?”
Riven’s gaze follows the motion. “That’s what he’s really watching.”
The thought makes my chest ache. “He doesn’t even know if it’s his.”
“He doesn’t need to,” Riven says. “In his mind, anything that comes from you is worth dying for.”
A tear slips free before I can stop it.
“I didn’t ask for this,” I whisper. “For two Alphas. For war. For… being watched like I’m made of glass.”
Riven steps closer now, careful, gentle. “You didn’t ask. But you’re not weak either.”
Across the clearing, Kael lifts his head slightly, ears twitching. He feels the shift between us. He always does.
“I don’t hate him,” I say again, as if speaking it aloud might make it less complicated.
“I know,” Riven murmurs.
The night stretches on, suspended between three hearts pulling in different directions.
Kael doesn’t come closer.
Riven doesn’t chase him away.
And I stand between them, human, pregnant, trembling under the moon, wondering how love can hurt so much while still feeling like the only thing keeping me alive.
Why is he watching after he rejected me?
Because some loves don’t know how to leave.
And some wolves never stop guarding what they believe is theirs, even when they let it go.