Reject me twice (Kira and Theron) novel Chapter 30

I find him in the training yard three nights after the coronation.

The moon is high, casting silver light across empty practice grounds. Malik is here, working through sword forms with deadly precision.

I watch from the shadows, remembering. The first time he saved me from Corel. Every training session where he refused to let me quit. His hands steady on my face after I learned the Queen Mother’s plans. Every moment he chose me when no one else did.

His blade cuts through the air. Then he stops mid-form.

“I know you’re there,” he says without turning.

I step out. “Can’t sleep?”

“Could say the same, my Queen.” He sheathes the sword, turning to face me. Even in moonlight, I see the heat in his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“Can’t sleep without you,” I admit.

He moves closer—want versus restraint playing across his face.

“We need to talk. About what we are to each other.”

“You’re my Queen. I’m your Commander.”

“Is it?” I touch his face. “Because it feels like more.”

His hand covers mine. “You could have anyone. Any noble, any Alpha—”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Kira, I’m nobody. I rose from omega to commander, but I’m still just—”

I cut him off with a kiss. Sure. Certain. Claiming.

When I pull back, his eyes are dark. “I don’t want the Commander,” I say. “I want you. The man who saw me when I was nothing and stayed anyway.”

“I’ve been terrified,” he admits. “That you’d realize you could do better.”

“You’re the only person who never wanted anything from me except for me to survive. To be free.” My voice drops. “And now I am. And I still choose you.”

“I love you,” he breathes against my hair. “Not as my Queen. Just as Kira.”

“Then you’re exactly what I want. Come with me.”

“Where?”

“My chambers.” I say easily, barely keeping a scoffing obviously to myself.

He follows me through the silent palace. My chambers are enormous, draped in silk and moonlight. I lock the door. Turn to face him.

The air crackles. He prowls toward me, every muscle coiled, and his lips crash into mine with a hunger that’s been simmering too long. His hands work the laces of my dress with deliberate slowness, the fabric pooling at my feet. His gaze rakes over me like wildfire.

My hands aren’t as patient—fumbling with buckles, tearing at straps. Piece by piece we strip away everything: armor, titles, walls. Until it’s just us.

“You’re beautiful,” he growls, hands mapping every curve. His fingers skim my nipples, teasing them into peaks, and I gasp as he licks a torturous line down my neck.

He doesn’t reach for me. Just carries it alone in the dark, the way he’s carried everything his whole life.

I send warmth toward him. Not words—just presence. I’m here.

I feel the resistance rise first—automatic, bristling. Then beneath it, gratitude so raw it makes my throat tight.

Sister, he pushes through. Just the one word. Then the bond quiets, and he retreats behind his walls, and I let him go because pushing would only build them higher.

I pull Malik closer. Breathe him in—cedarwood and steel and the warm, impossible safety of him. Tell myself this is enough. That we’d earned this peace. That the worst was behind us.

The crown was ours. The throne was won. The bond was broken. The war was over.

But beneath my skin, the magic hummed—restless, growing, waiting for something I couldn’t name. And through the bond, my brother’s grief pressed against mine like a hand in the dark, reaching for comfort I didn’t yet know how to give.

And somewhere beyond the palace walls, in territories I hadn’t visited and among wolves I hadn’t met, the silence was growing louder—the particular silence of people who hadn’t applauded, hadn’t celebrated, hadn’t accepted. Wolves who looked at two crowns on one throne and saw not hope but heresy.

I closed my eyes. Pressed my face into the warmth of Malik’s chest. Let his heartbeat carry me toward sleep.

But the last thought before I drifted under wasn’t peace.

It was a question—quiet, persistent, impossible to silence:

Why does it feel like something is just beginning?