Kira chuckled softly at Derek’s grumbled words, shaking her head as she reached for the glass of water.
"Well, what can I say? Like minds think alike."
Derek scoffed, then let his eyes run over her outfit. "Why are you all dressed up, anyway?"
Kira lowered her glass of water.
"One of my private tutors is coming for my lessons soon. Braxton arranged everything while I was away."
Then she sighed, resting her chin briefly on her hand. "To be honest, I really need to go back to Aethelwulf University and continue with my normal life. Hiding away like this is getting rather exhausting."
Derek watched her closely. "I thought you didn’t mind the online system. You aren’t missing any schoolwork."
"I don’t miss the work," Kira explained, turning her eyes to him. "I practically watch the whole lecture from my own screen anyway, so academically I am perfectly fine. But I miss the feel of the campus. I miss having normal people around me. Right now, my entire life feels like a bizarre reality television show."
Derek nodded. "I understand. And you will be going back to school soon. Once everything is properly settled."
Kira exhaled deeply. "I just wish my life wasn’t a rollercoaster right now."
"Everything passes," Derek said quietly. "Even this."
Silence settled between them for a while, comfortable enough, broken only by the soft clinking of cutlery.
Derek watched her eat, the ease of her, the way she speared her food with small, contented efficiency. The way she carefully avoided the spicy sausages Ishita had prepared—undoubtedly a side effect of her early pregnancy cravings. Then he took a sip of his coffee.
"What were you doing at the Werewolf Council that day?" he asked.
Kira shrugged. "It is a very long, and highly complicated story. But apparently, my mother is the true heir of Moonfang. The pack was originally called Ironfang. Rolf renamed it Moonfang after he took everything from her. Erased her, erased the whole family, and built his little kingdom on top of the bones of hers."
"I knew it," Derek said, setting down his cup. "I knew there was something rotten about that crook." He paused.
"Before we fell out, I was investigating him too—Rolf, and your mother’s erasure from the pack records. Although," he admitted, "my investigation leaned rather more toward finding out whether you and Rolf were playing me. Which, I suspect, is exactly why I never found anything true."
Kira shrugged again, a wry twist to her mouth. "I was digging into it as well. And isn’t it funny? While my entire identity for twenty years centred around being wolfless and the hated, useless daughter, there was an entirely different existence sitting underneath it, just waiting for someone to scrape the lie away."
"I’m glad," Derek said, and his voice softened. "That you finally found your family. People who love you genuinely. You deserved that long before you got it."
Kira looked up at him with a smile and their eyes met.
And held.
Neither of them looked away. The smile lingered between them, warm and unguarded, stretching one second into several, the kitchen and the food and the whole world going quietly out of focus around the two of them.
Then Derek’s lungs gave out.
The cough seized him mid-breath, rough and hacking, and he turned away, pressing his palm over his mouth as his shoulders shook with it.
"Derek?" Kira’s fork clattered down. "Oh goodness, are you alright?"
She grabbed the glass of water off the table and quickly rushed over to his side in a heartbeat, fussing, panicking, pressing the rim of the glass to his lips. "Here. Drink. Slowly. Drink."
Derek let her feed him the water, his large hand wrapping gently over hers to steady the glass. He gulped it down in slow swallows, and gradually the coughing eased, his breathing settling back into something even. Kira stayed standing over him, one hand rubbing steady circles into his back.
"Did your food go down the wrong way?" she asked, still hovering.
But Derek had gone very still.
Because her hand was on his back, absent and gentle, and tingles were shooting straight up his spine from the contact. She had panicked. Genuinely panicked. For him.
And some quiet, aching part of him marvelled at it, that after everything he had done to her, she still had this in her. But then, she had always been this kind of person. Warmth down to the bone. He was simply grateful, more grateful than he could say, that his cruelty hadn’t managed to freeze it out of her.
His heart clenched as it hit him fully, just how much he had missed her warmth.
He clutched subtly at his chest and rubbed the spot right over his heart to ease the ache of the soulbond.
Kira, however, was far too observant. She noticed the movement immediately. Her eyebrows knitted together, and she leaned down, lowering her upper body so that their faces were side by side, barely an inch apart.
Derek turned his head to look at her, his breath hitching at her proximity. She stared into his eyes, then without a word of warning, she reached out and pulled his lower eyelid down with her thumb, peering at it like a market woman inspecting fish.
Derek jerked back, frowning. "What are you doing?"
Kira didn’t answer straight away. She looked at him thoughtfully, her head tilted.


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