Reject me twice (Kira and Theron) novel Chapter 57

[Kira’s POV]

The garden was quiet in the late afternoon light, and for the first time in weeks, I let myself breathe.

My hand settled against my belly—protective, instinctive. Two heartbeats beneath my palm. Two lives, impossibly small, impossibly real. I smiled. And I was scared. Both at once, tangled together so completely I’d stopped trying to separate them.

“Your Majesty.”

Theron’s voice caught me mid-step. He stood at the entrance to the garden path, posture carefully non-threatening. He’d changed since arriving at court—less domineering, more deliberate, as though constantly measuring the space he occupied.

“May I join you? I can leave if you’d prefer to be alone—the last thing I want is to intrude on your privacy.”

“You may.”

We walked in silence for a while—two people learning to exist in the same space without the weight of history crushing the air between them.

Theron broke it first. “Are you happy? I realize that’s personal, and you have every right to tell me it’s none of my concern. But I could sense two heartbeats the moment I entered the audience chamber today.”

I smiled as I looked at him. “And the way you carry yourself has changed—there’s a protectiveness in your movements that wasn’t there before. I find myself hoping the cause brings you joy rather than fear.”

His eyes held nothing but quiet sincerity. No possessiveness, no hunger. Just a man asking a simple question.

“Malik has been the most amazing man I’ve ever met,” I said.

“He sees me—all of me, the crown and the scars and the parts still learning how to be whole—and he loves every piece without trying to own any of them. I didn’t know love could feel like safety until him. So yes, Theron. I’m happy. Terrified, overwhelmed, carrying two children into a world full of wolves who want me dead—but happy. Genuinely, completely happy.”

Guilt flickered across his features—brief, visible, quickly controlled but not quickly enough.

“What about you?” I asked. “Are you doing better? And don’t give me the diplomatic answer—I’ve had enough diplomacy today to last a lifetime.”

“It’s been hard. I won’t pretend otherwise. Rebuilding trust with a pack I failed, realizing I was never the man they thought I was—none of that comes naturally to someone who spent his life believing strength meant never admitting weakness.” He paused.

“But the difficulty is giving me something I didn’t have before—a chance to be better. To recalculate every decision I made from ego and fear and do it differently. It’s slow, and most days I’m not sure I’m making progress. But I’m trying, and that’s more than I could say a year ago.”

I smiled—small, careful, but real. “That counts for something, Theron.”

“Does it?”

“It does. Not enough to erase what came before. But enough to matter.”

“I should head back,” I said, turning toward the eastern wing. “Malik will worry if I’m gone too—”

The scent hit me first. Wrong. Sharp. Chemical, metallic—something that didn’t belong in a garden full of roses. My wolf surged to attention, and my hand flew to my stomach with an instinct that bypassed thought entirely.

The assassin came from the hedgerow like a shadow given teeth.

Dark clothing, masked face, a dagger that gleamed with something wet and iridescent—poison. He was fast, trained, moving with lethal economy. Straight for me. Straight for the belly my hand was protecting.

Malik arrived minutes later, his face white with fury, and pulled me into his arms so tightly I could feel his heartbeat hammering against my own.

Theron stood apart, bloodied and silent, watching with an expression I couldn’t read.

“I’m alright,” I whispered. “Malik, I’m alright. We’re alright—all three of us.”

“Who was on garden detail?” His voice was ice. “Who was responsible for perimeter security? I want names, I want answers, and I want them now.”

“Theron saved us.” I pulled back enough to meet his eyes. “He shifted before the blade reached me. If he hadn’t been here—”

Malik’s gaze found Theron across the garden—bloodied, silent, watching with an expression I couldn’t read.

Something passed between the two men. Not friendship. Not forgiveness. But acknowledgment, grudging and genuine, of a debt that couldn’t be dismissed.

He’d saved my life. And in doing so, he’d taken the first real step toward earning what I’d told him to earn.

But the assassin’s words echoed in my skull long after the garden had been cleared and the guards had doubled and Malik had carried me inside with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking.

They were coming for the Princess. And now they knew about the children growing inside her.