The summit was over, and the courtyard of the Pinewood Pack had filled with light and soft music.
It was a vast, elegant space, the kind of grounds only one of the oldest Lycan bloodlines could boast, and tonight it was crowded with Kings, Alphas, Betas and Lunas circling one another with drinks in hand, all of them networking, weighing and measuring.
The dinner party marked the end of it, and for the first time in longer than anyone cared to count, the Lycan Kings had actually agreed on something. Set their differences aside and formed a united front against the Shadow King.
The werewolves, though. That, they had not agreed on.
Most of them were still deeply sceptical about fighting shoulder to shoulder with werewolves, and Derek could hardly blame them, not with the memory of the last Great War still sitting like a stone in the collective gut of their kind. Betrayal has a long half-life.
Derek stood near the fountain in a sharp burgundy tuxedo, listening politely to an Alpha and his Luna from one of the packs in Southern region.
"And your Queen?" the Luna asked brightly. "We heard you are married now, Your Grace. We were so hoping to meet your Queen tonight."
Derek returned a polite smile. "She is a bit under the weather and could not make the journey. But she sends her regards."
Declan was a short distance away, deep in conversation with other Alphas and Betas. The evening felt productive, yet Derek’s mind kept drifting back to Dravengard.
Your Grace?
Derek frowned. Connor was speaking to him through the mind-link, clear as anything. Which was impossible, because the mind-link only worked in range, and Connor was supposed to be four hours away in Dravengard.
Connor. Derek’s eyes swept the courtyard. What in the goddess’ name are you doing at Pinewood? You’re meant to be in Dravengard protecting the Queen.
Connor hesitated. Actually... the Queen is here with me. She insisted she needed to see you tonight.
Derek excused himself mid-sentence, leaving the Alpha and his Luna blinking after him, and began cutting through the crowd.
Where are you?
In the parking lot, Your Grace.
Connor. He shouldered past a cluster of Betas without seeing them. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to drive her at night? The Umbras hit something almost every single night now. Almost every night, Connor.
With respect, Derek, Connor replied, and there was a distinct note of long-suffering in it. You know exactly what your Queen is like. You’re both stubborn as stone. She was coming here with me or without me, and I decided I’d rather it was with me. I brought enough gammas.
Derek had no answer to that, which irritated him considerably. He came out into the car park and stopped.
She was standing beside Connor’s SUV in an elegant cream dress that hugged her figure beautifully, her hair loose over her shoulders.
She looked composed, beautiful, and in fact, far too stunning for a woman who had just done something monumentally reckless. He halted, his breath catching.
Kira’s eyes moved, searching, and she found him across the lot. For a moment, they stared at each other. Then, as if pulled by the same invisible string, they both started moving at the same time.
When they met in the middle, Derek opened his mouth to speak, but Kira placed a finger gently against his lips.
"Shh," she whispered.
Derek went still, staring at her in confusion.
"I love you," she whispered.
And before his brain could even begin to process the words, before he could recover or comprehend or say a single thing, Kira rose onto her toes and kissed him.
Derek froze. His brain short-circuited for a second. Every thought in his head stopped, and there was only the impossible fact of her mouth on his and the words still ringing in his skull. I love you. Said out loud to him. By her.
The bond flared like a struck match, blazing straight down through his chest and into every part of him, a sharp, spreading heat that made his fingers tremble.
Leo surged up so violently that Derek swayed on his feet, the beast howling in pure, uncontrollable joy after weeks of lying curled and grieving in the dark. It felt like something torn open being sewn shut. It felt like breathing after months underwater.
His hands came up slowly, cupping her cheeks, and then he took the lead.
Across the car park, Connor cleared his throat and quietly signalled the guards to give them privacy. They melted back into the shadows, leaving the couple alone.
The kiss grew heated. Their primal sides rose to the surface as both lowered their guards completely for the first time in months. Derek’s hands slid to Kira’s waist, gripping, pulling her flush against him.
Kira’s hands ran up over his chest, his shoulders, into his hair, tugging urgently. They devoured each other with months of pent-up emotion — love, fear, desire, and forgiveness all tangled together.
They stumbled. Kira didn’t know if she’d moved or he had. Her back slammed against the side of a parked car, and Derek followed, caging her there, one hand braced on the roof, the other spanning her waist, his mouth never leaving hers.
Neither of them had the faintest idea where they were anymore.
It was in that debilitating moment that sanity slowly crawled in, and they finally pulled apart, both panting. Derek’s chest heaved as he stared down at her, dazed, wrecked, his hair a disaster where her hands had been.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, voice rough.
Kira stared back at him. Anger, regret, and hurt swirled inside her. "Why didn’t you tell me you were dying?"
Derek went rigid. "How did you—"
"That isn’t the issue here." She let out a shaky breath. "And I’m not even angry with you. I thought I was— the whole drive here I thought I was furious, and then I saw you and I—" Her voice cracked. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Derek. For putting you through all of it. For the walls and the rules and the divorce talk, and all that time you were—"
"Shh." He shook his head, thumbs brushing her cheeks. "None of it was your fault. I understood you, Kira. I still do."
His voice roughened. "And I didn’t want you choosing me out of pity. I’d rather have withered away entirely than have you come back to me because you felt sorry for me. That’s not love. That’s not what I want for either of us."
Kira made a small broken sound and walked straight into his arms. She pressed her face into his chest and wept, her fists curled in his shirt.
"You fool," she sobbed. "I fell for you so long ago and I never stopped loving you. Not once, not for a single day, not even when I hated you. I was only hurt and so scared."
Derek wrapped his arms around her and held her, saying nothing at all, letting her cry it out against him. Then he bent his head and pressed a long kiss into her hair.
"I love you," he said. "More than my own life. I mean that literally, Kira. I’d rather die than watch you be unhappy. With me or anyone else."
Kira’s arms tightened around him fiercely. "You dare not," she said into his chest. "Don’t you dare die on me, Derek Wolfe."
She held on tighter, and her heart felt full to bursting.
Derek smiled into her hair, and his own heart swelled to meet it.
And they stayed there, wrapped around each other in the dark of the parking lot with a party glittering somewhere behind them, hearts finding each other again, and somewhere deep beneath it all, quietly, the cracks in their bond began to seal.