Chapter Twenty-Eight

Kaelani’s eyes snapped back to Julian, her glare sharp enough to cut glass.

He ignored it and started sweeping, long deliberate strokes that made it painfully obvious he had no idea what he was doing.

She crossed her arms, watching unimpressed. “You’ve never swept a day in your life, have you?”

She stepped closer and reached for the broom, but he lifted it just out of reach.

Julian’s mouth twitched. “I’m not completely helpless.”

“Is that so?” She shot back, “You know, you left my refrigerator door open for goddess knows how long. Blew the damn motor. I had to buy a new fridge.”

He straightened, meeting her eyes. “I can compensate you.”

“I don’t want your money,” she countered, voice sharp. “I don’t need your money. It’s the principle… and a prime example that you’ve probably never even had to open a fridge door in your life. I know very well that you’ve got omegas for that—ones who make sure you never have to lift a finger.”

Julian’s expression didn’t waver. “Didn’t have any trouble finding what I needed,” he said evenly. “I was hungry, and you had some damn good leftovers.”

Her brows drew together. “Yeah, leftovers that were supposed to last me a week—and you devoured them in days.”

He smirked. “Loved the lasagna. Was it homemade or store-bought?”

Kaelani paused at his question, searching his face for mockery but seeing genuine curiosity. “I make everything myself. From scratch.”

Julian watched her for a long moment, something flashing in his eyes she couldn’t quite name.

“I loved it all,” he said quietly. “Every dish you left in the fridge—especially the one with the spicy gravy labeled Tuesday night.”

“Chicken Katsu with Japanese curry.”

His mouth curved faintly. “That’s what it was?” He took a step closer, voice dropping low enough to vibrate between them.

“It had heat. The perfect amount. The kind that lingers—warm, savoring… the kind that stays with you long after it’s gone.”

Her breath hitched. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if he was still talking about food.

Julian’s gaze traced the curve of her face, down to her lips, deliberate and unhurried. The silence that followed pulsed between them—uneasy, electric.

Her heart stuttered. For one suspended beat, she forgot how to breathe.

Then his eyes zoned in on the bandaid peaking out from the edge of her collar. She quickly adjusted her shirt and shook the moment off like a spell. Moving around him, she kept her back straight, her voice cool.

“Why are you here?”

Julian didn’t move as she brushed past him, but something in his chest tightened—a flicker of something he quickly buried.

When she snatched the broom from his hands, he let her have it, watching in silence as she started sweeping sharp, hurried strokes across the floor.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he said finally, his tone steady but quieter than before.

Kaelani didn’t look at him. “That usually ends well.”

He ignored the jab. “My Beta looked into your background,” he continued. “A bit of a dead end… were you ever told anything about your birth parents?”

Her hands stilled on the broom handle, eyes fixed on the floor. “I was told I was abandoned on pack lands. That’s it.”

Julian frowned, his brow creasing. “And you never asked… who left you there? Why?”

She lifted her gaze, and for the first time that night, there was an edge in it that wasn’t from anger alone. “Why would I?” She asked flatly. “Whoever left me there had their reasons. Me probing around for answers wasn’t going to change a damn thing for me.”

The broom scraped across the tile again, her movements sharper now—each sweep punctuating her words.

Julian was quiet for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the floor she was furiously sweeping. “What about your Alpha?” He asked finally. “Seems a bit sketchy that he lied about your DNA test. Why would he do that?”

Kaelani’s shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t pause her sweeping. “I don’t know,” she said. “And I don’t care. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. I was happy to leave, and I’m sure they were happy to see me go.”

Julian’s eyes narrowed. “Were you mistreated there?”

She huffed out a small laugh that held no humor. “I’m an omega,” she said, glancing up at him. “What do you think?”

His expression shifted. “My omegas aren’t mistreated.”

“That’s great,” she said simply. “They’re lucky. Not all of us are.”

He hesitated, then pressed, “Your Alpha didn’t protect you?”

Kaelani’s lips twisted into something between a smirk and a grimace. “My Alpha barely acknowledged my existence.”

Julian’s frown deepened. “And the Luna?”

“Self-absorbed,” Kaelani replied without skipping a beat. “She’d show up at the orphanage every few months, pretending to care—perfect smiles and generous words for the cameras. Then she’d disappear again until the next photo op. That was the extent of her compassion.”

Julian said nothing, the muscles in his shoulders tensing.

“And don’t even get me started on the twins,” Kaelani added, a bitter edge creeping into her tone. “The Alpha Heir is a pompous ass—arrogant, sexist, always reminding the rest of us that we were dirt under his boots.”

Her broom paused, the bristles whispering against the tile as she lifted her gaze to meet Julian’s. “And the daughter…” She let out a small scoff. “Daddy’s little princess. She could do no wrong. Entitled, spoiled, manipulative. A sadistic bitch who’d smile right in your face while twisting the knife behind your back.”

Julian absorbed every word, his countenance unreadable—but something flickered behind his eyes. For the first time, he looked away.

Kaelani set the broom aside, her voice calmer now. “That pack taught me everything I needed to know about your kind,” she said. “Especially the ones born thinking the world owes them something.”

Julian’s eyes pulled back to her, something raw breaking through his composure as if her words had struck a nerve he could not ignore. “If you had belonged to my pack, you would’ve been treated better.”

Kaelani let out a short, humorless laugh. “But I don’t. And since I don’t, I guess that gave you the right to treat me like everyone else has.”

That landed. The silence that followed pressed thick between them. Guilt flashed across Julian’s face before he could bury it.

“I think you need to leave now,” she said quietly, turning away.

“Kaelani,” he started, voice rough, “about that morning—”

“Don’t.” She didn’t look at him. “You don’t want to say it, and I sure as hell don’t want to hear it. Just go. And do me a favor—don’t come back.”

He hesitated. “I thought you were finally starting to come around,” he said, the words low, defensive. “This is the most you’ve ever said to me.”

She turned then, eyes hard as stone, every word clipped with precision. “You think because you show up here digging up a past I’ve spent years trying to bury that suddenly we’re what—best fucking friends?”

Her voice rose, trembling with something that wasn’t just anger. “What are you looking for, Julian? Someone new to blame for rutting me because I unknowingly went into heat?”

Julian’s jaw tightened. “I’m not here to blame anyone and I’m not blaming you. I know it wasn’t your fault.”

A brittle laugh sputtered out, jagged with pain she tried to mask as she wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “Oh, thank you for saying that. Really.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Maybe now I can finally sleep better at night knowing you don’t blame me.”

He dragged a hand through his hair, the sound of his exhale rough and uneven. A frustrated laugh broke from him. “Why do you have to be so damn difficult all the time?”

“Hey, I never asked you to keep showing up.” She stepped closer, tone dropping. “You’re the one who can’t stay away. Why do you keep coming here? What do you want from me?”

Her words came faster, sharper—each one hitting like a slap. “Do you need me to absolve you? To tell you I’m fine so you can stop feeling… guilty? Do you think I’m barely hanging on, that I can’t eat or sleep because of you?”

Her eyes burned through him, every word a cut to the bone. “I don’t think about you at all, okay? You mean nothing to me.”

Julian’s throat worked, but no sound came. It took everything in him to keep his face still, to cage the wolf clawing at his insides.

Then, slow and deliberate, he stepped forward—closing the distance until she had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze. His voice scraped low, intent, rough as gravel.

“Is that right?”

Her pulse jumped, but she forced her voice steady. “Yes.”

Julian’s gaze stayed locked on hers, measuring each twitch of her mouth, the tension in her clenched jaw as if weighing the truth of her words, “Alright then,” he said quietly. “I’m gone. You don’t have to see me again.”

“Good,” she fired back. “Go back to your Luna-to-be. I’m sure she’s waiting for you in your perfect little world.”

He didn’t respond. He just stared at her for a long, heavy moment — like he wanted to say something but knew it wouldn’t matter — then turned and walked out.

The bell over the door chimed once as he made his exit.

Kaelani stood there, motionless, until the bell faded. Then she walked right up to the door and turned the lock, the sharp click echoing in the empty shop.

She turned and headed towards the counter, untying her apron with stiff fingers. She set it down carefully, as though the simple motion could hold her together.

Her eyes burned. She blinked hard, staring down at the wooden surface.

“Don’t,” she whispered to herself. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

But her voice cracked on the last word, and the first tear slipped free anyway. Then another. Then more — until her vision blurred and her breath trembled with the effort not to break.

She drew in a ragged breath, forcing herself to straighten, to pull the pieces back together. She turned back towards the door, wiping her tear-streaked cheeks roughly with the back of her hand—

—and froze.

Julian was still there. Watching her just outside the window, dusk pressed around him, his eyes soft beneath the glow of the setting sun.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then her expression hardened, the hurt sealing behind steel. Without looking away, she reached for the switch, killed the lights, and walked to the back.

Darkness swallowed the room, leaving him alone on the other side of the glass.