Two days after Derek left for the Lycan Kings’ Summit, Kira finally admitted to herself that she was miserable.
The palace was too big without him in it. That was the strange thing. Dravengard had always been enormous, all those halls and staircases and echoing rooms, but somehow it had never felt empty before. Now it did.
Nana was here, her mother was here, Connor, the servants, the whole busy hum of the household. And still the place felt like a house with the lights off.
She found herself in his private study as the sun was beginning to settle, without quite deciding to go there.
It smelled of him— that familiar citrus scent that always made her feel safe, and the faint ghost of whiskey. She trailed a hand along the back of his chair, and the ache in her chest twisted into something she could no longer pretend was indigestion.
She sank onto the sofa and looked around the study and let out a heavy sigh. Absence, they say makes the heart grow fonder.
How did I let him in so deeply? she thought, a small smile tugging at her lips. I tried so much to keep my walls up that I wouldn’t trust him completely after everything. But here I am, sitting in his study because the whole palace feels empty without him. She leaned back, closing her eyes.
I miss him.
She is still scared of being hurt. Goddess, she still felt guarded, but she should start trusting him and also in this thing she felt. She must learn to let her guard down again.
I love him. I really do. When he comes back, I need to tell him. No more hiding. No more fear. He has proven himself over and over. It’s time I stopped running from this bond.
She let out a shaky breath and pushed herself up off the sofa, wandering the room, touching things because they were his.
Her eyes drifted around the room, taking in the neat stacks of papers and the heavy credenza against the wall. Curiosity pulled her over. She opened one of the drawers, looking for nothing in particular, and then stopped.
Two handkerchiefs lay folded inside. Or not folded, exactly. Balled up, shoved in, hidden. Kira drew one out and unfolded it.
There was blood; dried dark and stiff across the linen. She opened the second. The same.
Her stomach turned over, and she stood there in the quiet study with more blood than she wanted to see in her hands and no idea whose it was or why it was in Derek’s credenza, and her mind offered her a dozen explanations, each one worse than the last.
A soft knock came at the door.
Kira moved on instinct, crossing to the sofa in three strides, sat down hard, and shoved both handkerchiefs beneath her thigh just as the door swung open.
"There you are," Claire said, smiling. "I’ve been hunting you all over this big house."
"Here I am," Kira said brightly. Too brightly.
Claire came in and stood a moment, studying her daughter the way mothers do, taking in far more than she was being shown. "How are you really, sweetheart?" she asked.
Kira shrugged. "I’m okay."
Claire’s smile deepened. She came over and sat beside her on the sofa. "You miss him."
Kira’s brows drew together. "What are you talking about?"
"Darling." Her mother chuckled softly. "I’ve been in love before. I know exactly what it looks like. The way you wander around the palace these past two days...it’s written all over your face."
Kira bit her lip, feeling her cheeks warm. "Maybe a little."
"Mhmm?" Claire’s eyes twinkled, and then softened. "Sweetheart. Listen to me. I probably never thought I would ever be telling you this, not after everything you’ve been through, but don’t let doubt tear something this good out of your hands."
Kira looked at her mother.
Claire nodded. "I’ve watched him. I’ve watched the way that man looks at you when you’re not looking back, and I’ll tell you honestly, I came here fully expecting to loathe him. I’d made up my mind. Some arrogant Lycan King who’d hurt my daughter, I had a whole speech prepared." She shook her head. "And he’s proven me wrong at every turn."
Kira laughed despite herself. "Oh, he’s arrogant. Don’t let this phase fool you, Mum."
"I’m sure he is. It’s all over his shoulders." Claire chuckled. "But he loves you."
Kira’s laugh faded.
"Tell him," Claire said. "Tell him how you feel, and tell him soon. Before it’s too late." Her hand found Kira’s.
"There’s a war coming, sweetheart. The Umbras are rising; everyone can feel it. None of us knows what tomorrow looks like anymore. And I will not watch you walk out of something beautiful carrying words you never said. Regret is the heaviest thing a person can carry. I should know. I carried mine for twenty years."
Kira bit down on her lower lip.
"I love him," she said quietly. "I do. I’m just... scared, Mum. That’s all it is. I’m so scared."
Claire squeezed her hand. "I know. Of course you are. But love is a risk, my darling. It always was. There’s no version of it that comes safe."
Kira nodded slowly. "I’ll tell him then," she said. "When he gets back. I’ll tell him everything."
Claire beamed and pulled her into a hug, holding her tight, rocking her slightly the way she must have wanted to for twenty lost years. "Good girl. Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see."
Kira nodded against her shoulder. Then she pulled back, suddenly aware of a raging thirst, and stood. "I need water. I’m parched."
She walked over to the dispenser, forgetting about the handkerchiefs she had hidden under her thighs.
Claire shifted on the sofa and her eyes fell on the handkerchiefs. She picked them up, her face turning pale. "Oh, goddess... oh, goddess. No."
Kira turned, glass in hand. "Mum? What’s the matter?"
Claire sat frozen on the sofa, the two blood-stained handkerchiefs open across her palms, her hands trembling. She lifted her face, and her eyes were already filling with tears.
"Serene." Her voice cracked. "Have you found your soulbond? Tell me the truth. Has your soulbond rejected your bond?"
Kira blinked, thrown. "What? No. Derek hasn’t rejected the bond; he—"
"Then why are you coughing blood?" Claire demanded, holding the handkerchiefs up. "How long have you been hiding this from me?" She paused as the words sank in. "Wait... you said Derek is your soul bond?"
Kira nodded still looking confused.
Claire looked down at the handkerchiefs in her hands, then up at her daughter.
"Kira, if you’re not the one coughing blood," she said slowly, "then he is."
Kira’s brows drew together. "What are you talking about?"
Claire took a shaky breath. "When your father refused to acknowledge our bond," Claire said, her voice thin and shaking, "because his own father demanded it, I deteriorated terribly."
"I grew weaker and weaker. And the blood was one of the first signs. Coughing it up as the strength drained out of me."
Tears spilt over. "That is why I could never fight Rolf that time. That is why I couldn’t protect myself, or you. I had nothing left in me. It was only when Ethan finally marked me, when he accepted me, that I began to come back."
The room had gone very still.
"Derek has been withering," Claire said. "For long, by the look of this. Sweetheart, a man in that state could die in a fight. And with the Umbras rising, with a war coming, with him out there right now—" She shook her head. "This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all."
The glass slipped out of Kira’s fingers.
It hit the floor and shattered, water spreading across the boards, and Kira didn’t even look down. She stood staring at her mother, her face empty, her mind refusing, shock and bewilderment and dawning horror crashing through her all at once.
The cough. The fever. The blood in his handkerchief. Dr Lorenzo saying it was a cold.
"He knew. He’s known this whole time. And he told him to lie to me," Kira whispered. "I need to find him." She looked at her mother. "Right now."
She was already moving, already halfway to the door.
Claire rose quickly and caught her arm. "Serene, no. It’s too risky. It’s nearly dark, and the Umbras will be prowling out there, you know they will. You might be leading them straight to you."
But Kira shook her head, and there was something wild in her eyes now. "Mum." Tears spilt over. "He told me. I didn’t know it was this bad. I have to fix this," she said and placed a hand on her stomach. "I’ve had this dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach all day, and I can’t shake it."