Reject me twice (Kira and Theron) novel Chapter 26

We’re so close to Seraphine’s unraveling. But there’re still things to do. Like traditional banquet between the second and third trials. A memorial for someone who’s still alive.

I sit beside Damon at the high table, neither of us eating.

Something’s wrong, he pushes through our bond.

I feel it too. The Queen Mother sits on the King’s other side, smiling, playing the devoted stepmother. But there’s tension in her shoulders. Calculation in her eyes.

The King looks worse than this morning. His skin is gray, his hands trembling as he lifts his wine goblet.

“Father,” Damon says quietly. “You should rest—”

The King’s goblet crashes to the floor.

He convulses, clutching his chest, gasping for air. Foam appears at his lips. His eyes roll back.

Chaos erupts.

Guards rush forward. Healers appear from nowhere. The Queen Mother stands, her face a perfect mask of horror and concern.

“The King!” she cries. “Someone help him!”

But Damon and I feel it through our bond—the satisfaction. The triumph underneath her false panic.

She did this. Now. In front of everyone.

The King collapses onto the table, still convulsing. Healers swarm him, but I can see it in their faces—they don’t know what’s wrong. Don’t know how to help.

The Queen Mother’s voice cuts through the chaos. “Silence!”

The hall goes still. Every eye turns to her.

“This is the twins’ doing,” she says, her voice ringing with authority and grief. “The blood rite—their combined magic is too powerful. It’s poisoning the King, destroying him from within.”

Gasps ripple through the crowd.

“No—” I start to stand, but guards move toward me immediately.

“The blood magic is corrupted,” the Queen Mother continues. “Two royal twins should never have been allowed to live. The prophecy warned us. Now we see the cost.” She turns to face the assembled nobles, and tears stream down her face. “My husband suffers because we defied ancient law.”

The lies taste like poison in the air.

“The solution is clear,” she says. “Prince Damon must take the throne. The girl—” her eyes find mine, cold despite the tears, “—must be eliminated. For the kingdom’s safety. For the King’s life.”

“That’s not true!” My voice cuts through. “The King is dying because you’ve been poisoning him for months!”

Shocked murmurs. The Queen Mother’s expression hardens.

“Seize her,” she commands. “She’s desperate. Delusional. She’ll say anything to save herself.”

A dozen guards move toward me, hands on weapons. Damon is on his feet in an instant, positioning himself between us.

“No one touches my sister.”

The guards hesitate. Damon is still the Crown Prince. Still their future king.

“Stand aside, my son.” The Queen Mother’s voice is soft now, almost gentle. “I know this is hard. I know you’ve formed an attachment to her through the bond. But she’s dangerous. Corrupted. Everything I’ve done—everything I’ve sacrificed—has been for you. To protect you. To ensure you could rule.”

Damon goes very still. Through our bond, I feel his heart breaking.

“You killed my mother,” he says quietly.

The hall goes silent.

“You eliminated Queen Elara. You orchestrated this entire nightmare. You created the false mate bond to keep Kira weak.” His voice is steady, but I feel his anguish through our connection. “You raised me. Loved me. And it was all manipulation. All to control the throne through me.”

“I saved you!” The Queen Mother’s mask cracks. “Your mother was weak. She couldn’t choose. Couldn’t do what needed to be done. So I did it for her.” She moves toward him, hands outstretched. “Everything I’ve done has been for you, Damon. To make you strong. To ensure you’d rule without the burden of a weak twin dragging you down.”

“She’s not weak.” Damon’s voice is steel. “She’s stronger than you ever imagined. Stronger than me.”

“She’s poisoning your mind—”

“I did this for you!” She’s fighting now, thrashing against the guards. “I loved you, Damon! Raised you as my own son! Everything—every choice—was to make you king!” Her eyes find mine, and they’re filled with absolute hatred. “She’ll destroy you! The prophecy says only one can survive! She’ll take everything from you!”

“She already has,” Damon says quietly. “She’s taken my loneliness. My isolation. My belief that I had to kill to earn my place.” He moves to stand beside me, taking my hand. “She’s given me a sister. A family. Something real that you never could.”

The Queen Mother’s screams echo through the hall as guards drag her away. Her mask is completely shattered now, revealing the twisted obsession underneath.

When the doors close behind her, silence falls.

The King beckons us forward—Damon and me. We approach the throne together, still holding hands, our twin bond humming between us.

“The blood trials are suspended,” the King says, his voice gaining strength. “There will be no third trial. No more death.” His eyes move between us. “You’ve both proven your worth. Your strength. Your love for each other.”

He pauses. “The prophecy demanded one twin die. But prophecies can be wrong. And I will not lose both my children to satisfy ancient fears.”

Relief floods through me so intensely I almost collapse.

Damon’s hand tightens on mine. Through our bond, I feel his joy, his disbelief, his overwhelming gratitude.

“The kingdom will have two heirs,” the King continues. “Twin rulers, bound by blood and magic, stronger together than apart.” He smiles, and it’s the first real smile I’ve seen on his face. “Welcome home, daughter. Both of you.”

I look at Damon. At Theron standing behind us, the corrupted bond still aching between us. At Malik in the shadows, watching over me like he always has.

At Marcus, guilt-ridden but finally free.

We survived.

Against prophecy, against manipulation, against a woman who would have destroyed us both—we survived.

And somehow, we’re standing here. Together.

Family.