Chapter 45

Chapter 45
Evening had settled over the pack house by the time I decided to find Kieran. He'd been holed up in his office all day, missing both lunch and the afternoon council meeting. Even for him, this level of work isolation was unusual. I'd gathered some food from the kitchen, thinking he might appreciate a late dinner that didn't require him to leave his paperwork.

The hallway leading to his office was quiet, most pack members having retreated to their quarters for the night. My guards had agreed to wait at the end of the corridor—a small concession to privacy that had taken days to negotiate.

I balanced the tray in one hand, preparing to knock, when I heard laughter from within—light, feminine laughter that instantly made me freeze. The door wasn't fully closed, leaving a sliver of space through which I could see into the office.

Kieran stood behind his desk, his back partly to the door. His usually immaculate appearance was startlingly disheveled—hair rumpled as if hands had been run through it repeatedly, his face clean-shaven for the first time since I'd known him, and his clothes wrinkled and askew. A button was undone at his collar, his sleeves rolled unevenly.

Across from him stood a woman—tall, slender, with rich dark skin and an elegance that made even simple movements seem graceful. I recognized her immediately as Vanessa, the ambassador from the Southern territories who had arrived last week for trade negotiations. She was laughing at something Kieran had said, her perfect white teeth flashing against her deep complexion.

A hot wave of jealousy crashed over me, so intense it made my hands shake. The tray tilted, the water glass sliding dangerously close to the edge before I caught it.

The movement must have made a sound because both heads turned toward the door. Kieran's eyes widened when he saw me, a flash of what looked like panic crossing his features before his expression smoothed into careful neutrality.

I pushed the door open fully, struggling to keep my face composed even as my wolf snarled within me.

"Luna Lena," Vanessa said with a warm smile, inclining her head respectfully. "How lovely to see you this evening."

Her politeness only fueled my anger. I looked from her immaculate appearance to Kieran's dishevelment, and the conclusions my mind drew made my stomach churn.

"I brought food," I said flatly, setting the tray down harder than necessary on a side table. "I didn't realize you had company."

Kieran cleared his throat, his eyes darting between me and Vanessa. "We were just finishing up some trade discussions."

I noted how he didn't meet my gaze directly, how he immediately turned back to the papers on his desk as if eager to dismiss me. His nervous energy was palpable—another confirmation of my suspicions.

"Don't let me interrupt," I said, ice lacing my voice. "Enjoy your... discussions."

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and left, ignoring Vanessa's polite goodbye and Kieran's sudden movement as if he might follow me. The door closed behind me with a satisfying thud, and I strode past my startled guards, waving away their attempts to follow.

I needed air. I needed space. I needed to be anywhere but in that building.

The garden beckoned—a secluded area with stone benches nestled among flowering shrubs. It had become my refuge during times of stress, a place where I could gather my thoughts without the constant attention of pack members.

I sank onto a bench, drawing my knees to my chest and staring unseeingly at the twilight-dimmed flowers. The image of Kieran's rumpled appearance and Vanessa's satisfied smile burned in my mind. Had I been a fool all this time? Was his recent tenderness merely guilt for betraying me with another?

My thoughts spiraled darker with each passing minute. The cool evening air did nothing to soothe the heat of my anger and hurt. I'd been so close to trusting him completely, so close to surrendering the last of my defenses.

Lost in these bitter thoughts, I didn't hear approaching footsteps until it was too late. Strong arms suddenly scooped me up from behind, lifting me clear off the bench.

I yelped in surprise, twisting to see my captor—though I already knew who it was from his scent, from the familiar feel of his arms around me.

"Kieran! What are you doing?" I demanded, squirming to free myself.

Without warning, he tossed me forward. I landed with a painful thud on the grassy ground, the impact centered on my backside. The indignity stung worse than the fall.

"That," he said coldly, towering over me, "is punishment for not trusting me. Again."

I gaped at him, shock momentarily replacing anger. "Punishment? For what?"

"For jumping to conclusions. For seeing what you wanted to see rather than asking for the truth." His voice was flat, emotionless. "For believing I would betray you."

Confusion warred with outrage as I pushed myself up to a sitting position. "What was I supposed to think? Your clothes were a mess, your hair—"

"Because I've been working for sixteen hours straight trying to track down information about the rogues," he cut me off. "Because I haven't had time to shave or change. Because I finally got word from Vanessa about unusual movements in her territory that might explain the sudden disappearance of our rogues."

Each word struck me like a physical blow, doubt creeping in where certainty had been moments before.

"But you seemed nervous when I walked in," I argued, grasping at the fragments of my anger.

"Because I knew exactly what you were thinking," he replied, his voice dropping dangerously low. "I saw it in your eyes. The same distrust, the same readiness to believe the worst of me."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words died on my lips. Had I really been so quick to assume the worst? Had I not even considered another explanation?

Before I could formulate a response, Kieran turned away, his back rigid with anger.

"When you're ready to actually trust me," he said over his shoulder, "you know where to find me."

And then he was gone, disappearing into the growing darkness, leaving me alone on the ground, my pride stinging as much as my backside.

I remained there for a long time, torn between indignation at his high-handedness and the creeping realization that perhaps, just perhaps, I had been too quick to judge. The cool night air settled around me as stars emerged overhead, offering no answers to the confusion in my heart.