"That's exactly why I came to talk to you," she said with a quiet sigh, forcing herself to hold his gaze despite the lingering chill that still clung to her. "No. I don't want that. I want to end this on my own terms. No one is killing anyone."
Kidd didn't react the way she expected. There was no argument, no visible anger—only that same unsettling calm as he lifted his glass and took a slow sip of whisky, as if he were weighing her words instead of challenging them.
"As far as I'm concerned," he said evenly, "he deserves at least a few broken bones."
Ithilien studied him for a moment, and then, instead of getting angry, she allowed a faint, almost tired smile to appear.
"He does," she admitted quietly. "And maybe he'll get them. Who knows?"
She exhaled softly and looked away.
"But that's exactly the point. You don't have to be angry for me."
"I don't have a choice," he interrupted without hesitation.
That stopped her for a moment.
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she stood and crossed the room, as if she suddenly needed space to breathe. She stopped at one of the tall windows and looked out into the darkness, where the forest blended into the night and the rain began to fall more steadily, tapping softly against the glass.
The house was warm—almost too warm—and the thought of the walk back down the gravel road flickered through her mind with quiet reluctance.
"I need you to understand something," she said at last, her voice lower now, as if each word cost her more than the last. "Even when I break the bond… I don't want another one."
She closed her eyes briefly, resting her hand against the cool surface of the glass.
"I don't want to go through that again. I don't want to ever be tied to someone like that."
Silence settled behind her, but it wasn't empty—it was tense, aware, as if he was choosing his next words carefully.
"Have you ever considered," Kidd said finally, his voice lower and more focused now, "that the bond you're afraid of doesn't have to mean what it meant before?"
For a moment, he didn't move, as if he were genuinely trying to give her space, as if he were holding himself back.
It didn't last long.
Ithilien felt it before she saw it—the shift in the air, the quiet closing of distance. When her gaze lifted slightly, she caught his reflection in the glass behind her, and her body tensed almost imperceptibly.
"It doesn't have to hurt," he continued more quietly, his voice close enough now to feel. "Not if you're bound to someone who actually puts you first."
Her breath faltered, and she closed her eyes again, as if that might shield her from the weight of his words.
Because listening to him was a mistake.
And believing him—
would be worse.
And yet somewhere deep inside her, in a place she refused to name, something fragile and stubborn stirred, as if it had been waiting for exactly that—to believe, even for a moment, that it could be true.
"I don't know any other kind of bond," she said, finally turning to face him.
"Then let me show you," he murmured, reaching up to tilt her chin, forcing her to look at him.
"Kidd… this isn't just about a decision…"
"It always is," he cut in, his voice low but firm. "And this one is yours."
For a moment they simply looked at each other, and everything seemed to still, as if the world outside that room had quietly fallen away. Ithilien was painfully aware that it would take almost nothing—a single shift, a single spark—for something between them to ignite into something neither of them would be able to stop.
And just as quickly, something else pushed its way in.
The memory came back uninvited—the faint, powdery sweetness of Bista's scent clinging to Ace, the tone in his voice when he spoke about another wolf's smell, possessive and sharp, as if she had ever belonged to him. As if she had no right to touch anyone else, while he—
She drew in a breath.
"Before I make that decision, I want you to know the truth," she said.
Kidd didn't let go of her, but his gaze sharpened slightly.
"Go on."
"You know Marco isn't a wolf," she began, taking a steadier breath, and Kidd tilted his head just slightly, not yet understanding why her brother had suddenly become part of this conversation. "And there's a very real chance… that my children won't carry wolf blood."
The words settled between them.
For a brief moment, something shifted behind Kidd's eyes as pieces fell into place with quiet, brutal clarity. So that was it. That was why she had been rejected. Why that coward of an alpha in Evergreen hadn't wanted her as his official Luna.
Understanding came fast.
And with it—something darker.
His gaze didn't waver.
"And why the hell would that matter?"
There was no hesitation.
No distance.
He closed the space between them and kissed her.
She let out a soft sound when he deepened the kiss, her body reacting before her mind could catch up, and her arms slipped instinctively around his neck. Heat rushed through her veins as Kidd lifted her effortlessly, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling the cold surface of the glass against her back in sharp contrast to the warmth of his body.
"Ithilien…" he breathed against her lips, his voice rough, strained between kisses. "If you want to stop this, you need to tell me now…"