Chapter 10.

Julian's POV

Should I tell them who I really am?

I hesitate, the thought swirling in my head before I shove it aside. Nah. Not worth it.

“Just... nobody important. But you can call me Julian.” I reply coolly. I’ve grown used to hiding my title — not out of shame, but because I’m tired of the way people’s eyes flick down to my wheelchair before pretending not to pity me. Let them underestimate me. I prefer it that way.

“So are you coming with me or not?” I ask again and Kira’s gaze drifts down to my chair. I can practically see the hesitation written all over her face. I don’t blame her. An injured man offering her a ride isn’t exactly comforting.

I sigh and signal one of the guards to help me get into the car. Kira watches as my guards move to help me into the backseat of my SUV. I can feel her uncertainty shifting into something else—not quite trust, but at least enough to reconsider.

“Fine,” Kira says softly.

Vivienne scowls. “Are you honestly going to trust this nobody and go with him?” She snaps silently and Kira nods.

“Yes, I will,” she responds and Vivienne scoffs loudly, “ Fine by me. But you better behave,” she warns. “Don’t even think about coming back if you screw this up.”

“I won’t,” Kira mumbles and honestly, I hate how her mother is talking to her, but I don't intervene because I don't want to get involved in their affairs.

Kira then hesitates for a moment before stepping toward the SUV. Instead of heading for the back, she confidently reaches for the front passenger door. Just as she’s about to climb in, one of my guards clears his throat.

“Uh, that’s my seat,” he says flatly.

She freezes mid-step, her fingers still on the door handle. “Oh,” she blurts, quickly retracting her hand like she just touched fire. “I didn't know. Sorry,” she adds in a tiny, awkward voice, shifting on her feet.

I chuckle, unable to help myself. The way she says it makes something in me shake loose. “Apology accepted,” I tease, my lips twitching. “But I think I’d rather have you sit with me in the back.”

Kira hesitates, glancing between me and the guard, who just shrugs. Then, with a resigned sigh, she walks around and slides in beside me.

She keeps her hands in her lap, stiff as a board. I smirk. “Relax, Kira. I don’t bite.”

She side-eyes me. “That’s funny, coming from a man who hides his identity.”

I grin. Maybe bringing her along won’t be so boring after all.

And besides that, I want to know what fate has planned for her — and why it keeps placing her in my path…

Soon we start off on our long trip back home and the car’s interior is quiet, save for the soft hum of the engine. Kira is still sitting stiffly beside me, her small bag clutched tightly in her lap. She’s holding it like it’s the only thing keeping her together — knuckles white, fingers gripping the worn fabric so tightly I wonder if her nails might tear through it.

I glance away, pretending not to notice. This isn’t my problem. I only brought her along because I couldn’t leave her stranded. If I hadn’t, she’d probably still be standing in that parking lot, looking like her whole world had just crumbled.

Still, I can’t shake the image of her face when I told her Damian had left. The way her shoulders sagged, and the flicker of hurt in her eyes that she tried to hide. Damian’s rejection wasn’t just cruel — it was humiliating.

“Are you always this quiet?” I ask, breaking the silence. My voice comes out harsher than I intend.

Kira flinches slightly but doesn’t turn her head. “I didn’t think I was supposed to talk,” she says quietly.

“You can,” I reply. “If you want.”

She doesn’t answer right away. For a second, I think she’s going to ignore me altogether. But then she shifts in her seat, adjusting her bag like she’s gathering her thoughts.

“I’m just... tired of everything,” she says finally. “I thought things might get better after I left home.”

I almost ask what she means, but something about the way she’s holding herself — like she’s barely holding the pieces together — stops me. I let the silence return.

She’s stronger than I expected. Most omegas in her position would’ve been crying by now — cursing Damian or begging to turn back. But not Kira. She just sits there quietly, like she’s accepted whatever’s coming next.

I catch myself watching her again, more closely this time. She doesn’t fidget or sigh or complain. She just stares out the window, her eyes distant, as if she’s somewhere far away.

I don’t know why that unsettles me.

“You’ll survive,” I say eventually.

Kira blinks and turns her head slightly, like she wasn’t expecting me to speak.

“I’ve seen worse situations,” I add, recalling all the times I have come to her rescue recently. “You’ll get through this.”

She doesn’t smile, but her fingers relax just a little around her bag. “I hope so,” she murmurs.

I don’t know why, but I find myself hoping the same.

Kira shifts slightly again in her seat, turning her gaze from the window to me. For the first time since we started moving, she looks directly at me like she’s trying to piece something together.

“Since you said I can speak, can I ask you a question?” she asks quietly and I nod not knowing what she wants to ask.

“Was it you?” she asks and I frown.

“Was what me?”

“In the forest,” she says. “When those rogues almost attacked me... someone from an SUV like this one sent royal guards and stopped them. I didn’t see his face, but...” Her eyes narrow slightly. “And at the dress shop — when Cassie and her friends left me in that mess where the shop owner accused me of stealing... Someone again sent a royal guard and paid for the dresses before I could explain. And then at the hospital...”

She doesn’t finish the sentence, but I know exactly what she’s implying.

I grip the armrest tightly, my fingers curling against the leather. I want to tell her yes — that I was there each time. That I stepped in not because I pitied her, but because something about her kept pulling me in. First out of curiosity, then out of something I still don’t quite understand.

But I hold back.

“It wasn’t me,” I say flatly.

Kira studies me for a moment longer, as if she’s weighing my words. I force myself to meet her gaze, keeping my face unreadable.

“Oh,” she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

She turns back to the window, her expression carefully blank. But I catch the flicker of disappointment before she hides it.

I exhale quietly and lean back in my seat.

Let her believe it wasn’t me. If she knew the truth — that I’ve been watching out for her since the day I entered her pack — she’d probably think I was some obsessed creep. And I can’t blame her.

Because even I don’t know why I keep getting involved.

I tell myself it’s just a coincidence — that fate keeps throwing her in my path for no reason at all…

I close my eyes, willing my mind to quiet down. The steady hum of the car's engine dulls the thoughts swirling in my head, and before I know it, sleep drags me under.

I'm not sure how long I’m out, but I jolt awake when the car hits a bump in the road. My eyes snap open, and I instinctively glance around.

That’s when I feel it — the warmth against my side.

Kira’s head rests on my shoulder, her soft breaths brushing against my shirt. Her hair falls loosely around her face, a few strands curling along her cheek. She looks... peaceful. For a girl who's been rejected, bullied, and tossed aside, she somehow still carries this quiet strength — like she's holding herself together with nothing but stubborn willpower.

For a moment, I let myself watch her — the faint rise and fall of her chest, the way her fingers loosely clutch her bag as if afraid someone might take it from her. There's something about her that draws me in, something I can’t explain.

But then reality comes crashing back.

She’s Damian’s mate. His rejected mate, yes — but still his. No matter how cruel Damian’s been to her, there’s a line I can’t cross.

I shift slightly, debating whether to wake her when she stirs on her own.

Her eyes blink open, hazy with sleep at first, but then she sees where she’s resting — on me.

“Oh,” she mumbles, sitting up quickly. “Sorry... I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s fine,” I say stiffly, already straightening my shirt.

Kira runs a hand through her hair, still half-asleep. Then she turns to me, her expression suddenly serious.

“I know you said it wasn’t you,” she murmurs, her gaze meeting mine, “but... I don’t believe you.”

For a heartbeat, I freeze before I answer her back. “What makes you say that?”

Kira looks straight into my eyes as if she is searching my soul. “I remember those eyes from the dark forest…”