Chapter 6
851 Words
Kira's pov
"Shall we go?" Professor Elias asked gently after we'd finished our meal. "I imagine you'd like to avoid any further... unpleasantness."
I nodded, grateful for his understanding. The weight of Damon's stare had been burning into my back throughout dinner.
As I stood and reached for my bag, a ripple of whispers swept through the restaurant.
"Is that—?"
"It can't be. He never comes to the capital—"
"Look at the convoy outside!"
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I could see what had captured everyone's attention. A line of sleek black vehicles had pulled up to the restaurant entrance, their tinted windows and military-grade armor unmistakable. Elite guards in formal uniforms flanked the doorway.
The restaurant's atmosphere shifted instantly before he even entered.
I recognized him as the man from the cemetery. The one who'd sent his driver to offer me an umbrella.
But seeing him in full light, surrounded by his entourage, was entirely different.
He was taller than Damon with silver-blonde hair that caught the light and gray eyes that swept the room. His black suit was immaculate, tailored to perfection, and he moved with the fluid grace of a predator. Power radiated from him, so much that every wolf in the restaurant instinctively lowered their gaze as he passed. Even the Alphas.
"That's him," someone whispered urgently at a nearby table. "The youngest son."
"The Supreme Elder died this morning," another voice murmured. "They say he's rushing back from the eastern territories to claim his inheritance."
"Ruthless, they call him. He is a brilliant military strategist and the youngest general in Alliance history."
"And politically? They say he's already maneuvered half the Council into supporting his succession."
The whispers painted a picture: the Supreme Elder of the Alliance Parliament had passed away, and his youngest son, the one everyone had thought would remain in military service far from the capital was returning to claim the family's political legacy.
The weight of that legacy was evident in every step he took.
His entourage moved with him like a well-trained unit.
As he passed my table, those gray eyes flicked toward me before he moved on, heading toward a private dining room at the back of the restaurant, and the tension in the room didn't ease so much as shift into excited speculation.
I exhaled slowly, realizing I'd been holding my breath.
"The Green family," Professor Elias murmured beside me. "Their influence runs deep in the Alliance. If that's truly Callum Green returning to claim his father's seat, the political landscape is about to shift dramatically."
Before I could respond, a sharp c***k split the air.
BANG.
For a fraction of a second, everything froze before they started screaming. They toppled over chairs as they dove for cover.
My military training kicked in instantly, overriding any conscious thought. Time seemed to slow as my senses sharpened, Mira surged forward, my wolf's instincts flooding through me.
Maybe it was a habit formed over three years, or maybe it was the pull of the mate bond—I didn’t know. Whatever it was, I lunged toward Damon without thinking, my body moving purely on instinct.
My first priority was to protect him. My hand reached out, stretching toward his back as I closed the distance.
Move. Get down. I'll shield you.
But just as my fingers were about to touch his shoulder, Damon moved.
He spun, his arms wrapping around Serena, and pulled her against his chest. He twisted, putting his body between her and the direction of the gunshot, his hand cradling the back of her head protectively.
He never once looked at me.
My hand fell through empty air where his shoulder had been a moment before.
Time snapped back to normal speed.
Guards were swarming, the Green security detail moving with lethal efficiency to secure the room but I barely heard any of it.
I stood there, my hand still outstretched, watching as Damon held Serena close, murmuring reassurances into her hair.
I almost died trying to save him.
And he didn't even notice.
I almost wanted to laugh at the version of myself just moments ago, the one who tried to protect Damon. Mira howled inside me, a sound of such profound anguish that it made my chest ache. The mate bond felt like it was tearing apart fiber by fiber.
The last time. I swore to Mira and myself—there would be no more.
I stood there as I relieved three years of memories. The late nights building his company together, when I'd believed we were partners and all the sacrifices I'd made. Every time I'd chosen him, believed in him, loved him and he'd never truly seen me at all.
I reached down and pulled the blue-white moonstone ring from my finger. The metal felt cold against my palm.
"Damon."
I called out firmly.
He looked up, still holding Serena, finally seeing me.
I threw the ring at his feet. It bounced once on the polished floor before rolling to a stop against his shoe.
"I will never love you again."
- Writer
