Is this Really Over?

“Open the door. She is my wife.”

The teacup slipped from my fingers the moment I heard Kieran’s voice. I stared at it for a moment, but my mind was somewhere else.

I looked across the room at Riven. “You know he won’t leave,” I said.

“No, he won’t.”

“Then answer him before this turns into something worse.”

Riven kept his eyes on me. “It already has.”

Before I could say anything else, the door behind Riven opened. The broad-shouldered warrior who had stood with him earlier in the courtyard stepped inside and closed it quickly. He gave a respectful nod. “Alpha.”

His eyes moved to me. “Luna.”

Riven nodded back.

“Twenty-three Ironveil warriors have surrounded the guest quarters. Our people have taken positions in the corridor. No one has drawn weapons yet, but the feast is over. Three visiting Alphas and the council elders are already waiting outside.”

I wasn’t surprised. “Kieran never starts a fight unless he has an audience.”

The warrior glanced at me, then back to his Alpha without saying anything.

“Nia, this is Garrick. My Beta.”

I gave a small nod. “It’s an honor.”

“The honor is mine, Luna,” Garrick replied.

Outside, Kieran spoke again. “Nia, I know you’re in there.”

The room went quiet.

“I know you’re scared. I know you’re grieving. If you’re angry with me, that’s fine. Blame me if it helps you get through this. But don’t shut me out. Come home, and we’ll face this together.”

Garrick frowned. “He sounds convincing.”

“He always does,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “That’s why no one ever questioned him.”

Another knock came, softer this time. “Nia… open the door.”

For a second, an old memory flashed through my mind—Kieran handing me a cup with a warm smile, saying it would help with my headaches. I had trusted him completely and drank it without hesitation. The memory faded as quickly as it had appeared.

Riven walked over to the door and rested one hand against the frame. “Kieran.”

It took a few seconds before Kieran answered. “Finally.”

“You’ve made enough noise out here,” Riven said.

“I’ve come for my wife.”

“She isn’t yours to claim.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

“But she does,” Riven replied calmly.

Silence followed. Then Kieran gave a soft laugh. “Is that what she told you? That she wants to throw away our marriage after one argument?”

“Five years of lies isn’t one argument,” Riven said.

The laughter stopped. “I wasn’t speaking to you.”

“You knocked on my door.”

Before Kieran could reply, another voice cut in. I recognized Elder Osric right away. “Alpha Riven, surely this can be settled without dishonoring the sacred bond between husband and wife.”

“If the bond was sacred,” Riven answered, “it should have been respected long before she got here.”

The elder hesitated. “A marriage deserves another chance.”

“So does honesty,” Riven said.

No one responded. I watched him quietly. He wasn’t speaking for me or defending me. He was simply protecting my right to speak for myself.

I crossed the room and stood beside him. Garrick looked at me. “Luna?”

“What would you do?” I asked Riven.

“I can’t answer that for you. Too many people have already tried to decide for you. I won’t be one of them.”

He stepped back, leaving the space at the door completely to me.

My hand closed around the iron handle. The corridor outside had gone completely silent. Everyone was waiting. They expected Riven to answer them, not me.

I pulled the door open.

The long hallway stretched ahead, lined with warriors from both packs standing face to face. Ironveil’s soldiers in their black cloaks faced Ashenmoor’s men, hands near their weapons but not touching them. Council elders, visiting Alphas, servants, healers, and others who had left the feast stood between them, drawn by the spreading rumors.

The moment they saw me, the silence gave way to hushed murmurs.

Kieran’s eyes met mine instantly. Relief washed over his face so naturally that, for a brief second, I saw the man I used to trust with my whole heart.

“There you are,” he said softly, stepping forward. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. When they told me you disappeared after what happened, I feared the worst.”

“I left,” I said, keeping my voice steady.

His smile slipped for just a moment. “Nia, this isn’t the place to talk. Come back to our quarters. We can grieve together, away from all these eyes.”

“Our quarters?” I asked. “The ones you locked me inside?”

“I locked the door because you weren’t thinking clearly,” Kieran replied smoothly. “You had just lost our child. You were overwhelmed with grief. I couldn’t let you make a decision you would regret later.”

“I asked you for a divorce before you locked that door.”

His expression softened, and he chose every word carefully for the people watching. “I know you believe I’ve hurt you. If blaming me helps you get through this loss, then blame me. I promised to carry your burdens when we became mates, and I will keep that promise.”

Several elders nodded approvingly. Kieran noticed, of course. He wasn’t really talking to me anymore. He was talking to them.

“You make it sound so noble,” I said quietly.

“You’ve always had a generous heart, Nia. Don’t let the worst day of your life be the only thing you remember about our marriage.”

For a moment, I almost saw the man I had loved—the one who held me after every miscarriage and whispered that the Moon Goddess would bless us someday.

Then another memory surfaced— “Is she still taking the herbs?” and the answer, “Every day.” The warm image shattered.

“You know what the cruelest part was?” I asked.

Kieran’s brow furrowed.

“I thanked you. Every time you handed me those herbs, I thanked you because I believed you were helping me. I trusted you completely.”

Kieran’s shoulders dropped slightly. “I made mistakes,” he said quietly.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “A mistake is forgetting something or saying the wrong thing in anger. What you did wasn’t a mistake. It was a choice you made every single day for five years.”

His jaw tightened. “Nia—”

“No. This time you listen.”

The corridor was so quiet I could hear the torches crackling on the walls.

“For five years, I thought something was wrong with me. Every month I prayed to the Moon Goddess for a child. Every month I wondered what I had done to deserve another loss. I blamed myself while you stood beside me, held my hand, and told me we would keep trying.”

I held his gaze. “All that time, you were giving me the very thing that made having a child impossible.”

Whispers spread through the crowd.

Kieran stayed silent.

“And Kai?” I asked.

Pain flashed across his face before he hid it. “I never wanted you to find out like that.”

“So he is your son.”

After a long pause, he nodded. “Yes.”

The whispers grew louder.

“And the herbs?” I continued. “Were those supposed to protect me too?”

“They were prescribed by the physician.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“They were meant to help your body recover.”

“Recover from what?”

“Nia…”

“What were they for?” I let out a bitter laugh. “You still can’t tell the truth.”

His calm facade finally cracked. “I was trying to protect you.”

“From what?”

“You couldn’t survive another miscarriage.”

“I survived all of them,” I said. “What I couldn’t survive was trusting you.”

Kieran looked around, hoping someone would step in. No one did.

“There’s more you don’t understand,” he said at last.

“Then explain it.”

“I can’t.”

“No,” I said softly. “You won’t.”

He searched my eyes. “You only heard one conversation.”

“I heard enough.”

“You’re letting grief make this decision for you.”

“No,” I replied, holding his gaze. “For the first time in five years, I’m making my own decision.”

After a long silence, Elder Osric stepped forward. “Luna… perhaps this conversation should continue somewhere more private.”

I turned to him. “May I ask you something, Elder?”

He nodded carefully.

“When young couples prepare for their mating ceremonies, who taught them that trust is the foundation of every bond?”

“You did,” he said softly.

“And if another husband had lied to his wife for years, secretly had a child with someone else, stopped her from getting pregnant, and locked her up when she asked to leave… would you still tell her to go home and settle it quietly?”

The elder opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

I looked past him at the gathered crowd. “All of you have talked about my marriage today. My husband has spoken. The elders have spoken. Even Alphas from other packs have shared their opinions. But no one asked what I wanted.”

I looked back at Kieran. “I want my freedom.”

He took a slow breath. “So this is truly your decision.”

“It is.”

“You would throw away everything we built together?”

I looked at him for a long moment. “I stopped being the one destroying this marriage a long time ago.”

His eyes moved past me and settled on Riven. “So this is how you win.”

Riven stepped forward once. “She clearly wants to leave,” he said quietly.

Kieran stared at him for several seconds. Then a slow, knowing smile spread across his face.

“I wondered how long it would take.”

A chill ran down my spine. “What are you talking about?”

Instead of answering, Kieran turned to one of his warriors. “Bring the physician who treated the Luna after her collapse.”

My heart stumbled.

The warrior hesitated, then bowed before disappearing down the corridor. Confusion spread through the crowd. Elders exchanged uneasy looks.

Kieran turned back to the council. “If we’re going to talk about my marriage, everyone should hear what the physician found.”

A tight knot formed in my chest. I tried to remember everything from that night, but I couldn’t think of what new information the physician might have.

Riven spoke quietly, so only I could hear. “Whatever he’s planning, don’t let him control the conversation.”

I nodded, though my pulse was racing.

The corridor fell silent again. Footsteps echoed from beyond the crowd, growing closer.

“My Alpha… the physician is here.”