Brandon gently grabbed her waist and pulled her closer after a few minutes. She grinned and relaxed her head on his chest.

"I love you to the moon and back, Emma Aurelia Ashford," he said and dwindled his eyes.

"I love you more Brandon Oliver Frostbane."

"Are you sure?" He asked and she nodded, still looking into his eyes. His lips came down on hers and he deepened the kiss without hesitation, right there in front of his moonallies. She returned the kiss just as fiercely.

She felt like she was on top of their heaven.

"That’s enough BO, "You’re going to make the whole hall uncomfortable if you keep going,"

Ken murmured and rose from his seat. They all giggled.

Brandon and Emma finally broke apart, laughing softly as they returned to their seats.

Brooklyn and Ken stepped onto the dance floor. Some of Ken’s allies joined them. The panoramic view, the warmth of the moment, and her mood made it one of the best parties she had ever attended.

At 7:05 PM, Brooklyn and Emma left the sky lounge together and headed to her chamber for a warm bath. Naomi had already prepared everything, the water steaming gently as they entered.

Emma thanked her again for all the information she had shared while serving Lunara. Naomi only smiled softly before taking her leave.

They relaxed on her bed after the long bath, the chamber warm and quiet as their chatter slowly dissolved into soft laughter.

But Emma’s mind stayed somewhere else entirely.

"There’s something you need to know..."

Elara’s voice echoed again—clearer this time, heavier than before.

"I’m glad you won," Brooklyn said softly. "Lunara of all wolves being humiliated... you are indeed a fighter."

Emma exhaled lightly, staring at the ceiling as exhaustion and pride mixed together in her chest.

She didn’t feel like a fighter... just some wolf who refused to fall completely.

"I almost gave up, Brooklyn," Emma admitted quietly. Her voice was stripped of all earlier confidence.

The words landed heavier than she expected—like speaking them made them permanently real.

A small part of her still couldn’t believe she stood through it all without breaking.

"I’m glad you didn’t," Brooklyn replied simply, without hesitation or overthinking.

Emma turned her head slightly, comforted more than she wanted to admit.

Sometimes, survival didn’t feel like strength...just stubborn refusal to disappear.

"What about the house? You know it’s yours," Brooklyn asked after a pause, her tone careful.

The question lingered between them, heavier than the relaxed mood in the chamber.

She wasn’t sure why she still cared... but some ties refused to break cleanly.

"I’ll leave it for them," she said after a brief silence, her voice steady but distant.

Brooklyn watched her quietly, sensing the quiet effort it took to sound unaffected.

Letting go was never simple...it always came with invisible bruises.

"Alright, I want to go and see my parents tomorrow. Ken is insisting I must go with you," Brooklyn added, stretching slightly as if trying to ease the tension.

Emma raised a brow, already imagining Ken’s dramatic reasoning behind it.

Of course he would turn a simple visit into a group mission.

"Why?" Emma asked with a small smirk as she turned on the vision hearth, its soft glow lighting the chamber.

A part of her already knew the answer would make no sense at all.

Still, she was curious enough to ask...and tired enough to laugh at whatever came next.

"I don’t know," Brooklyn replied honestly, shrugging as if Ken’s logic had simply dissolved into mystery.

Emma shook her head faintly, amusement slipping through her exhaustion.

Some things in life didn’t need explanation...especially anything involving Ken.

"Ken is free-spirited... he doesn’t have trust issues, does he?" Brooklyn asked, studying Emma’s face.

Emma paused for a brief moment, her thoughts flashing through Ken’s unpredictable but honest nature.

"He doesn’t," Emma replied calmly, though something faint shimmered in her expression.

"Are you sure?" Brooklyn pressed again, her tone softer now, more curious than doubtful.

Emma let out a small breath, almost amused by the persistence.

"Hundred percent sure," she said, settling back into bed as if the matter was closed.

Brandon walked in boldly and joined them on the bed without hesitation. His presence instantly fills the space with familiar warmth.

He leaned in, sniffing and trailing soft kisses along her neck, as if he had been waiting all day for this moment.

Emma stiffened for a second, then relaxed, recognizing his scent and the comfort it carried despite Brooklyn being right there.

"I’m here, guys," Brooklyn said, clearing her throat immediately their lips briefly locked in an unguarded moment.

The timing made Emma exhale sharply, half embarrassed, half amused by how easily things spiraled around them.

"Ken is waiting for you," Brandon murmured breathlessly, still close, his voice low and slightly urgent.

Brooklyn quickly slipped out of the chamber, shaking her head as she left them alone.

Emma barely had time to react before the mood shifted completely.

Brandon pinned her gently to the bed, his intensity no longer playful but consuming, like he had been holding something back for too long.

Emma’s breath hitched as everything else faded, leaving only the weight of his presence and the closeness between them.

The space outside the chamber felt distant as they sank into each other, breathing uneven and heavy, like nothing else mattered in that moment.

"We are going to talk to our fathers," she said softly, even as he pulled her closer, wrapping her in a quiet, protective hold. His arms tightened instinctively, as though refusing the idea before it even fully formed.

"Why?" he asked after a brief pause, his breath warm against her hair. There was confusion in his tone—but also resistance, like he already knew the answer and didn’t want to accept it.

"You need to convince your father," she replied gently, tilting her head slightly to look up at him, "and I need to convince mine."

For a moment, he didn’t respond. His jaw tightened. A flicker of frustration crossed his face, quickly buried beneath control.

"No," he said at last, low and firm.

His hold on her loosened just a fraction, like he was trying to steady himself more than her. "He must do what Ashley wants him to do."

Her expression softened, but her eyes didn’t waver. "Yes... but not on territorial vision hearth," she said carefully. "He can confess to his pack-kins and to the council."

Silence stretched between them.

He looked away briefly, exhaling through his nose as if weighing something heavy only he could feel.

"Moonheart... no," he muttered, almost like a plea,his voice dropping softer now, tangled with disbelief and reluctance.

She blinked at him, then suddenly tilted her head, a faint spark of humor breaking through the tension. "Wait... do I have two wolves to convince?" she asked.

For a heartbeat, the seriousness cracked.

Then he let out a short reluctant chuckle—and the tension finally broke.

Their heads turned towards the vision hearth when the ten o’clock news began. They watched everything that happened at the royal kingdom and she couldn’t believe how boldly she spoke. Joy filled her heart when the news anchor announced that her story would be out soon. She also said that wolves were waiting eagerly for her story. They all wanted to know why she signed the legal papers when she knew the King had fixed a mating date for Lunara and the Moon Prince.

"Will they believe me when I say I didn’t know who you are?" She asked.

"Yes, if you write exactly what happened."

"Moonheart, they will judge you and I don’t want that."

"I submitted you to their judgment the day I decided not to tell you. My first attempt failed. The second attempt was on the second day of our mating. You ignored me and couldn’t even look at me. You would have found out if you had followed me to the social function, but you missed it too.

When I came back that day and read your rejected stories, I decided to leave you to figure everything out by yourself. Your action at the royal mansion would have been scripted if I had told you, but you acted intrinsically. These controversies are some of the reasons why wolves want to read your story. No controversy, no story....Do... not... add this part," he grinned and pulled her back to his chest. She laughed too.

"What was in the bag you carried to the council meeting?"

"You’ll find out soon."

"I’m going to accompany Brooklyn to her house tomorrow," she said, but he kept quiet. She lifted her head and looked at him. The look on his face was not encouraging at all. She remembered what Brooklyn told her a few hours ago and she became scared.

"Starlit, what is going on?" She asked with a sad tone.

"Nothing," he responded in a weird tone again.

"Please, talk to me."

"Just go with her. She has been with you all along."

Tears slipped silently down her face, warm and unstoppable. She didn’t even try to wipe them away.

Brandon turned to her, his expression softening instantly, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek.

"Moonheart... what is it?" he asked, his voice low, almost tender.

Her lips parted, but for a second, no words came out.

"...Is her mother dead?" she whispered.

"No."

Her breath hitched.

"Her father?"

"No."

The silence settled between them, heavy and suffocating, pressing down like a weight neither of them could escape.

"Then what is it?" Her voice trembled now, barely holding together.

"I hope everything is alright..."

Brandon didn’t answer. He only drew in a slow breath... and closed his eyes.

That silence said more than any words ever could.

Emma’s heart dropped.

And just like that—sleep vanished completely from her eyes.