Reject me twice (Kira and Theron) novel Chapter 64

[Elara’s POV]

The herbs were an excuse. A good one—raspberry leaf and chamomile blended with moonflower extract, specifically beneficial for wolves carrying twins—but an excuse nonetheless.

I was tired of watching tension corrode every corridor of this palace, and I wanted to change it the only way I’d ever trusted—showing up, being present, building connection one honest conversation at a time.

Kira opened her door with genuine warmth beneath the exhaustion.

“Elara. You didn’t have to come—I was just about to send for tea and feel sorry for myself, so your timing is impeccable.”

I held up the cloth-wrapped bundle and settled into the chair beside her fire. “Raspberry leaf and chamomile with moonflower extract. My mother swore by this blend during all four of her pregnancies.”

I smiled as I continued speaking. “It strengthens the bond between mother and child, eases the nausea, and helps stabilize magic that’s being shared across multiple heartbeats. I had my family’s apothecary prepare it fresh because the dried versions in the capital market are diluted to the point of uselessness.”

Kira pressed it to her nose. “This smells wonderful. Thank you—truly. The palace healers have been giving me something that tastes like boiled leather and works about as well, so this is a significant improvement on multiple levels.”

She settled across from me, one hand resting against the gentle curve of her belly.

“So.” The shift in her tone carried a playfulness I’d come to recognize as Kira at her most genuine.

“How are things going with my brother? And before you give me the diplomatic version, please remember that I can feel his emotions through the twin bond, so I already know the answer and I’m mostly asking to watch you try to deflect.”

Heat climbed my neck. I reached for the teapot with entirely unnecessary focus. “Things are proceeding well. The engagement appears to be—we’ve established a productive working relationship that I believe benefits the crown’s—”

“Elara.” Kira was grinning. “You’re turning the color of the raspberry leaves you just brought me.”

I pressed my hands against my burning cheeks. “Can we discuss trade policy instead? I have several thoughts about the eastern tariff structure that I think you’d find genuinely compelling.”

“Absolutely not. I have been waiting weeks for this conversation, and you’re not escaping it with fiscal policy.” She leaned forward.

“I’ve never seen my brother this… normal. Do you understand how significant that word is? Damon has been guarded and suspicious and braced for betrayal since the day I met him, and last week I passed him in the corridor and he was humming. Humming, Elara. The Dark King was humming a tune I didn’t recognize while walking to a council session about border security. I nearly fell over.”

I laughed—full, genuine, startled out of me. And once it started, something behind my ribs shifted and gave way.

“He’s nothing like the men I’ve met before.” The honesty felt like stepping off a ledge.

“My parents spent my entire adult life pushing me toward marriage—bear cubs, strengthen the bloodline, fulfill your duty.”

I paused before I spoke the next part. “Every man they presented was a variation of the same template: ambitious, politically connected, interested in my family’s position rather than my mind, expecting a wife who would remain decoratively silent.”

Kira’s playfulness gave way to fierce empathy.

“For Damon,” Kira said, wiping her eyes, “that is a declaration.”

“I’m lucky to have a sister like you,” she said quietly.

Not sister-in-law. Not political ally. Sister. The word landed in my chest like a key finding a lock I hadn’t known existed.

I blinked hard and redirected before we both dissolved. “I’ve been thinking about something. The tension in the palace—the fear, the division—it’s poisoning the court’s ability to function. People are scared, and scared people make terrible decisions. We need to change the atmosphere.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“A celebration. For both babies. A formal event that brings the court together around something joyful instead of something political.”

My eyes filled with joy as I spoke. “Let them see the Silver Queen happy and healthy, the royal family united, the realm’s future celebrated rather than debated. Fear is contagious, but so is joy, and right now this court desperately needs something to be joyful about.”

Kira was quiet for a moment, hand on her belly. Then she smiled—wide, genuine, bright enough to chase shadows from the room.

“Let’s do it. Something the realm can see and remember and carry back to their packs as proof that the future isn’t something to fear.” She squeezed my hand. “Will you help me plan it?”

I squeezed back. “I thought you’d never ask.”