Noah's POV
The sun is setting in Kieran's living room, the orange sun fading into milky evening light.
Still, his arms are warm. Safe. The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek, the scent of him— vanilla, spice, something distinctly him—all of it wraps around me like a shield. His fingers rake through my hair, slow and soothing. I let myself sink into it.
Because picking apart every shattered piece of Logan and me has left my bones aching and my chest raw, like I've been hollowed out and left to echo.
Because I can't fully enjoy the future if I don't let go of the past.
I exhale. "The media went crazy after that night."
Kieran hums softly, his touch never stopping. I don't know if it's encouragement or just instinct, but either way, it makes it easier to keep talking.
"They didn't keep me detained," I continue, voice quieter now, "didn't see the need to. So instead, I got to experience the wonderful joy of being stalked by the press." I laugh, humorless. "Everywhere I went—cameras, questions, headlines."
DISGRACED LOCAL BASEBALL PLAYER NOAH BENNETT UNDER INVESTIGATION.
SHOCKING SCANDAL: DID THE EASTVALE COYOTES CHEAT THEIR WAY TO VICTORY?
WAS IT WORTH IT?—EXCLUSIVE LOOK AT NOAH BENNETT'S DOWNFALL.
"They didn't care about the truth," I murmur, my fingers tightening where they rest against Kieran's ribs. "Didn't care if I was innocent or guilty. They just wanted a story. And this?" I let out a slow breath. "This was the biggest one to hit quiet little Eastvale in years."
Kieran's hand shifts lower, rubbing slow circles into the small of my back. Finnian rumbles in approval.
"The PAC seized the trophy while they conducted their investigation," I go on. "They poked and prodded me, ran every blood test imaginable. And that's when I found out."
Kieran stills beneath me. "That you were pregnant," he says softly.
I nod. My voice is steady when I say, "I was happy. For a second."
A second before I remembered Logan was gone.
The breath I take feels shaky, too fragile, like my ribs might splinter if I inhale too hard.
"The moment I got over the shock, I thought of him." I swallow. "Then I told myself not to think of him because stress is bad for the baby. But that didn't stop it. My emotions were everywhere. I felt like I was breaking over and over again. His family tried to help but they run the pack and I didn't want to be around them. Because, through it all—" My throat tightens. "He was gone on day one."
Kieran's grip around me tightens, firm and steady, like he's keeping me anchored. His fingers tangle in my hair again, slow, soothing, gentle.
I swallow hard. "I couldn't stand looking them in the eyes. I felt like they should have done more to make him stay."
Now, I realise I wasn't being fair to them. I still haven't apologised. I don't know how to.
Kieran shifts underneath me. "I saw the articles," he says after a long pause. "In passing. My coworkers talked about it. My family, too." He exhales, pressing his lips against my temple. "But I never realized it was you until we met at the hospital."
I let out a breathy laugh, small and bitter. "Do you think I did it too?"
Kieran goes quiet. And then—
"The only reason I never looked into the claims," he says, voice soft but certain, "was because I knew the Noah I know would never."
I don't realize I'm holding my breath until I let it out. It shakes on the way out of me.
"Well," I whisper, "my own mate wanted nothing to do with me after that."
Kieran doesn't flinch. Doesn't look away. Instead, he tips my chin up, his thumb brushing over my jaw. His eyes—warm, steady—hold mine.
"Noah." His voice is firm. "Logan Whittaker is a selfish asshole. What happened wasn't your fault."
I wish I could believe that.
But it still feels like it is. How do you erase years of thinking it was?
We were never bonded but Logan was still my mate. And, if he could leave that easily…
I press my face back into his chest, squeezing my eyes shut. Kieran doesn't push. He just holds me, warmth and strength in the shape of a man, and lets me breathe.
After a moment, I wipe at my face, inhaling slow and deep before saying, "Well, it doesn't matter now. It's all in the past."
A pause.
Then—
"Or at least, it was all in the past. Until Logan came back."
Kieran tenses slightly beneath me, and I know he's about to say something, so I cut him off before he can.
"No," I say firmly, lifting my head. "I don't love him anymore." I force myself to meet Kieran's gaze, to hold it. "Neither do I trust him. He broke that the moment he left."
Kieran watches me for a long beat. "But?"
I exhale sharply, my body curling in just a little. "I know there's no such thing as closure. That it's just a door manufacturer's favorite word. But I still feel like he owes me something." My voice is raw, a little frayed at the edges. "And when he declared he'd win me back, I just…" I trail off, pressing my forehead into Kieran's shoulder.
I don't even know how to explain what it did to me. Him saving me and Oliver, telling me he'll win me back, cornering me in the bathroom at Casey's and teasing me to near orgasm…
Logan has been nothing but a thorn in my side, an ache buried so deep I can't tell if it's healing or festering.
That's just the thing about aches; you can't ignore them.
Kieran presses a slow kiss to my temple, pulling me out of my messy thoughts.
"I don't love him," I whisper, voice trembling now. "I swear I don't. I just don't want to feel like this anymore."
Kieran doesn't respond with words. Instead, he just holds me tighter.
We stay like that for what feels like an eternity.
Finnian relaxes to the rhythm of Kieran's heartbeat. So do I.
Until Kieran's stomach rumbles. Loudly.
"Fuck, that's embarrassing," he groans.
I want to laugh but the sound dies on my tongue. "You skipped lunch because of me."
He scratches the spot where my hairline ends and my nape starts, I make a low rumbling sound of my own. "Don't underestimate the power of hospital cafeteria food."
I settle down into him again. But I know I need to go home soon. Oliver needs dinner. Bath time. A bedtime story. And Kieran has to start getting ready for work.
Soon our bubble of comfort will burst. I just wish we had more time.
Before I can say anything, Kieran shifts slightly and says, "Come to the Melee with me."
I huff a quiet laugh. "You're joking."
He grins, but then his fingers dig into my sides, and I yelp, laughing as he tickles me. "Not joking," he teases, pressing his forehead against mine.
I push at his hands, still laughing, breathless. "I usually avoid pack events," I admit once I catch my breath. "Planned on doing so until Oliver has his first shift." I hesitate, then sigh. "It's… awkward with Logan's family there."
Kieran hums. "Well, they're not going to be the only ones there. It's a Melee with Eastvale's three packs."
Yeah, Elliot mentioned that. And I've heard through the grapevine that the pack Alpha's want to bring back the 'unity of sacred ceremonies' by having us all together for the Melee. Still…
"I doubt they'll get the permission for that."
"I have it on good authority that they already have," Kieran replies, smirking. "You can thank the Eastvale Coyotes for that one."
My eyes widen. "Holy shit."
That means the biggest Melee in over a decade. I've been with the Lykandor's since I was six and there's only been one Melee like that.
"Come with me," Kieran says, voice softer now. "I want you in my life. And I want to be in yours." His fingers trace slow circles on my waist. "I want to see all parts of you."
I swallow hard.
"So…" My voice is smaller now.
"So," Kieran echoes, watching me. "I want to see you shift. I want to meet Oliver. I want to spend time with you that isn't cushioned between work and responsibilities. The Melee is perfect for that." Then, grinning, "Also, statistically speaking, children fare better during their first shift when they're used to seeing other members of their pack do it."
I snort. "Oh, you know I can't argue with science."
Kieran laughs. "So…"
I exhale, my gaze drifting to the ceiling. "Logan will be there."
Kieran shrugs. "That's more reason to come."
I watch him for a long moment. Then, slowly, I shift higher up his chest, pressing a lingering kiss just beneath his jaw. "He'll be there," I murmur, lips grazing his skin, "and he's probably cooking up another harebrained scheme to get me back."
Kieran taps his forehead against mine. "Then let's show him it won't work."
Something swells in my chest. It's warm, steady— right.
I exhale.
And then, finally—
"Okay," I whisper. "I'll come with you."