The Broken Luna, Now His Regret novel Chapter 9

9 Chapter 9 Kieran’s Rut

Mira was chopping vegetables for tomorrow’s Christmas feast when her phone rang. Violet’s name flashed on the screen. 1

“Mira, it’s Brielle. She’s at Silverstone Medical Center. Allergic reaction.”

The knife clattered to the cutting board. “I’m coming.”

She didn’t think. Didn’t grab her coat. Just her keys and her medical bag, muscle memory from years of emergency calls overriding everything else.

Violet drove while Freya sat quietly in the back, sensing the urgency. They made it to the hospital in fifteen minutes.

Mira found Brielle’s room immediately–she could navigate Silverstone Medical Center blindfolded after all her volunteer shifts. She pushed through the door and stopped short.

Kieran stood on one side of the bed. Astrid sat on the other, holding Brielle’s

hand.

Mira’s training kicked in. She crossed to Brielle and began her assessment- checking pupils, feeling for fever, examining the hives on her arms.

Brielle turned her face away. “I’m fine.”

The rejection stung, but Mira kept her voice professional. “What caused the reaction?”

“We gave her mangoes,” Astrid said, her tone concerned and sweet. “She said she liked them.”

Mira’s hands stilled. “Mangoes?”

“Yes. At lunch. Why?”

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9 Chapter 9 Kieran’s Rut

“She’s been allergic to mangoes since she was two years old.” Mira stared at Kieran. “I told you. Multiple times.”

Kieran frowned. “You never mentioned any food allergies.”

“I wrote it down. I put it on the emergency contact form at her old preschool. I reminded you every time I made fruit salad.” Mira’s voice remained steady, clinical. “Mangoes, tree nuts, and bee stings. Those are her three serious allergies.”

“Well, nobody told me,” Astrid murmured.

Freya, who’d been standing quietly near the door, suddenly spoke up. “Auntie Mira reminds everyone all the time. She even has a list on the fridge at-”

“Fatty,” Brielle interrupted, glaring at her cousin. “Mind your own business.”

The room went silent.

“Brielle Rose Ravencrest.” Mira’s voice cut like a scalpel. “Apologize to your

cousin. Now.”

Brielle’s lip trembled. “No! She’s always taking your side! And you’re a bad mommy anyway!”

“Brielle-”

“I hate you!” Brielle’s voice rose to a shriek. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

The door opened. Kieran had stepped out for coffee and walked back into chaos–his daughter screaming, Mira standing rigid, a stranger child crying, and Astrid looking appropriately distressed.

“What’s going on?” He immediately went to Brielle, who threw herself into his arms, sobbing.

Kieran looked at Mira over their daughter’s head. “This is what you call mothering? Making her hysterical while she’s recovering?”

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9 Chapter 9 Kieran’s Rut

Something cold and final settled in Mira’s chest. She looked at him–really looked at him–and felt nothing.

“Since everyone here seems to know what’s best for Brielle,” she said quietly, “let me ask a question. What temperature does she like her bath water?”

Silence.

“What time is her annual checkup? What’s her pediatrician’s name? What’s she afraid of at bedtime? What’s her favorite stuffed animal called?”

Kieran’s jaw worked, but no sound came out.

“Her bath water is 98 degrees–any hotter and she gets a rash. Her checkup is every April 3rd with Dr. Elena Hartley. She’s afraid of the dark but won’t admit it, so you have to leave the hallway light on. And her stuffed wolf is named Moonbeam.” Mira’s voice never wavered. “She’s allergic to mangoes, tree nuts, and bee stings. She has eczema on her elbows that needs special cream. She’s lactose intolerant but loves cheese, so you have to limit it or

she’ll be sick.”

She picked up her medical bag. “Since you all know what’s best, I’m sure you’ll manage fine without me.”

Mira held out her hand to Freya. “Come on, sweetheart.”

As they walked out, she heard Astrid’s soft voice: “She’s always so harsh with Brielle. No wonder the poor thing…”

Mira didn’t look back.

The hospital corridor felt endless. Freya’s small hand gripped hers tightly, and Mira forced herself to breathe. To stay calm. To be the adult her niece needed right now, even when her own daughter had just shattered her heart into a million pieces.

“Auntie Mira?” Freya’s voice was small. “Are you okay?”

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9 Chapter 9 Kieran’s Rut

“I will be, sweetheart.” Mira squeezed her hand. “Thank you for standing up for me in there. That was very brave.”

“Brielle was mean. And she’s wrong. You’re the best mommy.”

Tears pricked at Mira’s eyes, but she blinked them away. “You’re very sweet, Freya. Let’s go find your mom.”

They found Violet waiting by the elevator, concern etched across her face. One look at Mira’s expression and she pulled her into a fierce hug.

“Let’s get you home,” Violet whispered.

On the drive back, Freya chattered about everything and nothing, her innocent voice a balm to Mira’s raw nerves. But Mira barely heard her. Her mind kept replaying Brielle’s words–I hate you, I hate you, I hate you–and the way Kieran had looked at her like she was the problem.

She’d known this moment was coming. Had prepared herself for it during those long months in the Outlands. But knowing something intellectually and feeling it viscerally were two different things.

Her daughter hated her. Truly, genuinely hated her.

And maybe Mira had no one to blame but herself. Maybe if she’d fought

harder, stayed longer, refused to let Astrid steal her place-

No. She couldn’t think like that. That path led only to madness.

She’d made her choice. She’d chosen herself, her health, her sanity. And sometimes the right choice still hurt like hell.

When they pulled up to the Whitmore home, Mira saw her mother waiting in the doorway, silhouetted by the warm glow from inside. Estelle must have sensed something was wrong, because she was already moving down the steps before Mira even got out of the car.

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9 Chapter 9 Kieran’s Rut

“What happened?”

“Brielle,” was all Mira managed to say before her composure cracked.

Estelle wrapped her arms around her daughter and held her while she cried on the front lawn, not caring who saw, not caring about anything except being there.

“She hates me, Mom. My own daughter hates me.”

“No, baby. She’s been poisoned against you. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” Mira pulled back, wiping her eyes. “Because it feels the same.”

“Come inside. We’ll have tea, and you’ll tell me everything.”

Inside, Garrett had already put the kettle on. Ronan appeared from his study, took one look at Mira’s face, and his expression hardened.

“What did they do?”

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