Chapter 495: Ashes, Apologies, and Quiet Beginnings.

Chapter 495: Ashes, Apologies, and Quiet Beginnings.


(Third Person's POV)

The mansion felt different after the eclipse.

Not quieter—because there were still footsteps in the halls, still murmured conversations, still laughter that felt too loud in certain rooms. But the tension that had lived in the walls, in the floors, in the air itself, was gone. It was as if the house had been holding its breath for months, and only now dared to exhale. They were all exhausted. Some slept for hours. Others couldn’t sleep at all.

Taylor sat on the edge of the balcony railing, feet dangling over the garden, her fingers wrapped around a mug that had long since gone cold. The morning sun painted the sky in pale gold and soft pink, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel like the world was about to collapse on her head. She still felt tired, though. Bone-deep tired. The kind that didn’t disappear with sleep. Behind her, the balcony door slid open.

“You’re going to fall if you keep leaning like that.”

She didn’t turn around. “I won’t.”

Killian stepped out anyway, settling beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed. He didn’t touch her more than that, but his presence was steady, grounding. He looked better than he had days ago—the silver wound had faded to a faint scar, his color returned, his eyes sharp again—but the fight had changed him in subtle ways.

“You didn’t sleep,” he said quietly.

“I did. Just… not enough.” Taylor stared out at the garden. “I keep thinking about everything. How close we were to losing everyone.”

Killian followed her gaze. “We didn’t.”

“Barely.”

He hummed, a low sound in his chest. “Barely is still alive.”

She glanced at him, then back at the sky. “You’re too calm.”

“Someone has to be.”

She smiled faintly. “You used to be worse than me.”

“That was before I realized panicking never helped anyone.”

Taylor tilted her head, studying him. “You’ve changed.”

“So have you.”

Footsteps sounded inside, and moments later, Theresa stepped out, leaning against the doorframe. She held a clipboard—because of course she did—even though there was no emergency anymore.

“Breakfast is ready,” she said. “Stella’s awake. Marcus too.”

Taylor’s heart squeezed at that. “How is she?”

“Stubborn as usual and is getting better.” Theresa’s lips twitched. “The baby is fine.”

Taylor let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Killian stood, offering a hand. “Let’s go before Brian eats everything.”

Theresa scoffed. “He already tried.”

The dining hall felt warmer than usual. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, catching dust motes in the air. Stella sat at the table with Marcus beside her, their fingers interlaced tightly, as if either might vanish if they let go.

Marcus looked… different. Not possessed, not powerful, not terrifying—just tired and vulnerable.

Stella’s eyes lit up when she saw Taylor. “You’re up.”

“Barely,” Taylor replied, sliding into a chair across from her. “How are you feeling?”

Stella laughed softly. “Much better now that I have my mate here with me"

The door creaked open again and Dylan stood there.

He looked different too. Not polished, not smug, not burning with possessive fire. Just tired. His eyes were shadowed, his shoulders slumped slightly, as if he carried more weight than his frame could comfortably hold. The room stiffened subtly. Killian’s gaze sharpened, but he didn’t move.

Taylor felt her chest tighten—not with fear, not with anger, but with something like exhaustion and pity tangled together. Dylan walked in slowly, hands in his pockets. “Morning.”

Brian muttered, “Define morning.”

Alec watched him closely but said nothing.

Dylan’s eyes found Taylor. “Can we talk?”

The room went very still. Taylor glanced at Killian. He met her eyes, then nodded once. “We’ll be here.”

She stood, smoothing her shirt. “Outside.”

They walked to the hallway, footsteps echoing in the quiet. For a moment, neither spoke.

“I didn’t know how to start this,” Dylan said finally, staring at the floor.

Taylor crossed her arms lightly. “Then don’t start with excuses.”

He nodded once. “Okay.”

She waited. “I messed up,” he said simply. She blinked, surprised at the bluntness. “I’ve been saying that in my head for days,” he continued. “But saying it out loud is harder.”

She leaned against the wall, studying him. “Go on.”

“I thought loving you meant owning you,” he said quietly. “I thought protecting you meant controlling you. I thought if I lost you, everything else didn’t matter.” He let out a shaky breath. “That thinking almost got you killed. More than once.”

Taylor’s throat tightened. “I blamed Killian. The goddess. The timeline. Everyone except myself.” He laughed bitterly. “Turns out, I was the problem.”

She didn’t interrupt.

“I don’t expect forgiveness,” he said, lifting his gaze to meet hers. “But I wanted you to know I’m sorry. Truly. I loved you in a twisted, selfish way. And I still love you, but… not like that anymore.”

Her brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

“It means I don’t want you if it means hurting you,” he said softly. “If being with him makes you happy, then that’s what I want for you. I don’t deserve you, and I won’t pretend I do.”

Taylor stared at him, searching for manipulation, for ego, for the Dylan she knew.

She found none. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. Dylan stiffened in surprise, then slowly returned the hug.

“I forgive you,” she whispered.

His breath hitched. “You shouldn’t.”

“Maybe,” she said, pulling back slightly, “but I want to. Holding onto hate is exhausting.”

He gave a weak smile. “You always were too kind.”

“Don’t push it.”

He chuckled softly. “Killian is going to hate this.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s an adult. He’ll survive.”

As if summoned by the mention, footsteps approached. Killian stood at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, watching them. His expression was unreadable. Dylan stepped back, clearing his throat. “I’ll… give you space.”

He walked past Killian, pausing briefly. “I’m not your enemy anymore.”

Killian studied him for a long moment. “You were never my enemy. Just misguided.”

Dylan nodded, then left.

Taylor walked toward Killian. “You’re not mad, are you?”

He tilted his head. “Should I be?”

“I hugged him.”

“I noticed.”

She sighed. “I needed closure.”

He considered that. “Did you get it?”

“Yes.”

He nodded once. “Then I’m fine.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That was too easy.”

He shrugged. “Jealousy is pointless when I already have you.”

Her cheeks warmed. “You’re getting annoyingly confident.”

He smirked. “You taught me.”

They walked back to the dining hall together.