Chapter 19: The Beggar

 

Killian stayed behind in the Council chamber to "finalize the details" (which probably meant threatening the Elders into submission). I stepped out into the cool, stone corridor to wait for him.

My hand rested absently on my stomach. The twins were quiet now, settled by the submission of the pack. It was strange—they craved power, and today, they got a feast of it.

"Elena."

The voice was ragged. Broken.

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. My heart didn't race. My palms didn't sweat. There was just a dull, annoying thrum of irritation.

I turned slowly.

Liam stood there. He looked terrible. His tie was crooked, his eyes red-rimmed, and the arrogant Alpha posture was gone, replaced by a slump of defeat.

"What do you want, Liam?" I asked, checking my nails.

"I... I didn't know," he stammered, taking a step closer. "I didn't know you were carrying Royal blood. If I had known..."

"If you had known, what?" I interrupted. "You wouldn't have rejected me? You would have kept me around as a broodmare for your political gain?"

"No! That's not what I mean!" Liam raked a hand through his hair. "I made a mistake, Elena. A huge mistake. Chloe... she's insane. She’s cruel. She’s nothing like you."

He looked at me with those puppy-dog eyes that used to make me melt.

"I miss you," he whispered. "I miss us. I miss the way you used to look at me."

I laughed. It was a cold, dry sound.

"You miss having a doormat, Liam. You miss having someone who worshipped you even when you treated her like garbage."

"I can fix this," Liam said, a desperate light entering his eyes. He took another step, invading my personal space. "Leave him. Leave my father. He's a monster, Elena. He'll destroy you eventually. Come back to me."

"Come back to you?" I raised an eyebrow. "You’re mated to my sister."

"I'll reject her!" Liam blurted out. "I'll break the bond. I'll take the pain. We can raise the twins together. I'll treat them like my own. I'll be a father to them."

I stared at him in disbelief. The audacity was breathtaking.

"You want to raise Killian's children?" I asked softly. "Liam, look at yourself. You just knelt before them five minutes ago. You aren't fit to be their father. You aren't even fit to be their servant."

Liam flinched as if I had slapped him.

"How can you be so cruel?" he choked out. "You used to be sweet."

"You killed that girl," I said simply. "On my eighteenth birthday, you and Chloe took her out back and shot her. The woman standing in front of you? She’s Killian’s. And she doesn't settle for boys who play with glass."

"Elena, please..." He reached out to grab my hand.

Burn.

Before his fingers could graze my skin, the Moonstone pendant flared hot against my chest.

A shadow fell over us.

Liam froze. His eyes widened as he looked over my shoulder.

I felt the heat before I felt the touch. Killian stepped up behind me, his chest pressing against my back, his arms wrapping around my waist to lock me against him.

"Is he bothering you, my Queen?" Killian’s voice was a low, lethal rumble that vibrated through my entire body.

Liam stumbled back, terror flooding his scent. "Father... I was just... congratulating her."

"It sounded like begging to me," Killian said, resting his chin on my shoulder, staring Liam down. "And it sounded like you were offering to raise my heirs."

Killian’s grip tightened on my stomach possessively.

"Let me make this clear, boy," Killian growled, his eyes flashing gold. "If you ever try to touch what is mine again, I won't just make you kneel. I will remove the hands that offended me."

Liam turned pale green. He looked at me one last time—searching for a trace of the girl who used to love him—and found nothing but ice.

He turned and ran. Actually ran.

I watched him go, feeling... nothing. No pain. No regret. Just a sense of freedom.

"Are you okay?" Killian asked, turning me around to face him. His eyes searched mine for any sign of hurt.

"I'm fine," I smiled, and for the first time, it was a completely genuine smile. "I just took out the trash."

Killian grinned, fierce and proud. He kissed my forehead.

"Come on," he said, interlacing our fingers. "Let's go home. The twins are hungry."

As we walked away, I didn't look back.

The past was dead. And my future? It was walking right beside me, holding my hand.