The Broken Luna, Now His Regret novel Chapter 32

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“Mommy, who’s coming to dinner?”

Brielle was sitting at the kitchen table, coloring while Estelle prepared the evening meal. The house smelled like rosemary and garlic, warmth and care.

Mira sat down beside her daughter. “Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle Ronan, Aunt Violet, Freya, and me. And one more person.”

Brielle didn’t look up from her coloring. “Daddy?”

“No, baby. Not Daddy.”

The crayon stopped moving. “Why not?”

Mira chose her words carefully. “Because you said you didn’t want Daddy at dinner. Remember? After the school program?”

Brielle’s face crumpled slightly. “I was mad.”

“I know. But sometimes when we’re mad, we still mean what we say.” Mira touched her daughter’s hand. “You can change your mind later. But for today, Daddy’s not coming.”

“Who’s the other person?”

“His name is Valeblack. Mr. Silverstone. He’s… he’s my friend.”

Brielle looked up then, eyes sharp with four–year–old perception. “Like how Miss Astrid was Daddy’s friend?”

The question was a knife. “No. Not like that. Mr. Silverstone is someone who’s been very kind to me. And I want you to meet him properly.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

Mira’s breath caught. “Would that bother you?”

Brielle thought about this, crayon hovering over the paper. “I don’t know. Maybe.” Then, quieter: “Will he try to be my new daddy?”

“No, baby. No one is trying to replace Daddy. Mr. Silverstone just wants to meet you. That’s all.”

“Okay.” Brielle went back to coloring. But her strokes were harder now, more forceful.

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Mira watched her daughter and felt the weight of every choice pressing down.

–+–

Kieran’s POV

Friday morning, Kieran woke up alone.

His phone had one message. From Mira.

*Brielle asked about you this morning. She said she was mad but might not have meant

1. it. I told her you weren’t coming anyway because I’d already made other plans. I’m sorry. Next time will be different. – M*

Kieran read it three times.

*Next time will be different.*

It was the kindest rejection he’d ever received. A promise wrapped in a dismissal. Hope dressed up as goodbye.

Mira’s POV –

–

Valeblack arrived exactly at five.

He stood on the doorstep holding a bottle of wine and a wrapped box, dressed in dark slacks and a grey sweater that made his silver hair look almost luminous. Professional but warm. Careful but confident.

“Mira.” His smile was gentle. “Thank you for having me.”

“Thank you for coming.” She stepped aside to let him in. “Fair warning: it’s going to be

awkward.”

“I’d be concerned if it wasn’t.”

Garrett appeared in the hallway, Estelle right behind him. The assessment was

immediate – parental instinct sizing up the man who might replace their son–in–law.

–

Valeblack extended his hand to Garrett. “Mr. Whitmore. Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

Garrett’s handshake was firm. “Valeblack. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good things, I hope.”

“Mostly.” Garrett’s tone was dry, but his eyes weren’t unkind.

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Estelle took the wine with a warm smile. “It’s lovely to meet you properly. Mira’s told us about your support during… everything.”

“She’s made it easy to support her.” Valeblack’s attention shifted as footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Brielle descended slowly, one hand on the banister, the stuffed wolf tucked under her other arm. She stopped three steps from the bottom and stared.

Valeblack crouched down to her eye level without approaching. “You must be Brielle I’m Valeblack. Your mom’s told me a lot about you.”

Brielle studied him with unsettling intensity. “You have weird hair.”

“Brielle!” Mira’s voice was sharp.

–

But Valeblack laughed – real, genuine amusement. “I do, don’t I? It’s been silver since I was twenty. Runs in the family.”

“Like a wolf?”

“Exactly like a wolf.”

Brielle descended the last three steps. “Are you trying to be my new daddy?”

The room went still.

Valeblack met her gaze steadily. “No. I’m not trying to replace your daddy. No one could do that. I’m just your mom’s friend.”

“Mommy doesn’t have friends that are boys.”

“Well, now she does.”

Brielle considered this. Then: “Do you like dogs?”

“I do.”

“I drew one. Want to see?”

“I’d love to.”

She grabbed his hand – the choice made just like that, with four–year–old simplicity – and dragged him toward the kitchen. Valeblack shot Mira a quick glance over his shoulder, eyebrows raised in amused surprise.

Mira exhaled. “Well. That went better than expected.”

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Garrett put his arm around her. “He’s good with her.”

“I know. That’s what scares me.”

Dinner was strange.

Not bad. Not good. Just… strange.

Ronan and Violet arrived with Freya, who immediately attached herself to Brielle. The two girls disappeared upstairs to play, and suddenly the table was six adults passing dishes and making careful conversation.

Valeblack fit in effortlessly. He asked Garrett about carpentry. Complimented Estelle’s cooking with real specificity. Discussed supply chains with Ronan. Made Violet laugh with a story about a disastrous Council dinner.

Mira watched him navigate her family like he’d been doing it for years, and something

in her chest ached.

This was what it was supposed to feel like. Easy. Warm. Natural.

Not the constant tension of managing Kieran’s moods. Not the exhausting work of keeping everyone comfortable while slowly dying inside.

Just… dinner. With someone who wanted to be there.

“Mira?” Estelle’s voice pulled her back. “Would you help me with dessert?”

In the kitchen, Estelle turned to her immediately. “He’s wonderful.”

“I know.”

“But?”

“But Brielle keeps looking at the door. Like she’s waiting for Kieran to show up anyway.”

“She’ll adjust.”

“Will she?” Mira’s voice cracked. “Or am I just trading one kind of damage for another?” Estelle took her face in both hands. “Listen to me. That man in there? He’s good. He’s kind. He sees you. And Brielle will learn to trust that. But only if you do first.”

“What if I’m wrong? What if-”

“Then you’ll handle it. Like you’ve handled everything else.” Estelle kissed her

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forehead. “Now get the pie before Ronan eats it straight from the pan.”

Brielle’s POV

Brielle and Freya were building a fort in the living room when Mr. Valeblack came in..

“Mind if I join?” he asked.

Freya giggled. “You’re too big!”

“I can make myself smaller.” He sat cross–legged on the floor, folding himself into the tight space. “See?”

Brielle studied him. “Do you know my daddy?”

“I’ve met him a few times. At Council meetings.”

“Do you like him?”

Valeblack thought about this carefully. “I respect your daddy. He’s a good Alpha. He loves you very much.”

“Then why isn’t he here?”

“Because sometimes grown–ups need time apart. Even when they love each other.”

“But Mommy says she doesn’t love Daddy anymore.”

Valeblack’s expression gentled. “Sometimes people can love someone and still need to not be with them. It’s complicated.”

“Are you going to marry Mommy?”

“I don’t know. Maybe someday, if she wants that. But that’s a long way off.”

“If you marry Mommy, will I have to call you Daddy?”

“Only if you want to. You can call me whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Brielle pulled at the hem of her dress. “I don’t want a new daddy. I just want my old daddy back. The one who used to play with me before Miss Astrid.”

Valeblack reached out slowly, gave her the chance to pull away. When she didn’t, he put his hand on her shoulder. “I understand. And I’m not here to replace him. I promise.”

“Then why are you here?”

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“Because your mom needed a friend. And I wanted to be that for her.”

Brielle looked at him for a long time. Then: “Okay. But if you make Mommy cry, Il be really mad.”

“That’s fair. I’ll do my best not to.”

“Okay.” She handed him a blanket. “You can be in charge of the roof.”

Just like that, the conversation was over. Brielle went back to building, and Valeblack helped in silence, holding blankets and cushions while the girls giggled and planned their fortress.

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