CHAPTER 124: RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING...

"Let him through," Emerald said.

The guards all turned to look at her at the same time, and you could see a moment of doubt on their faces.

"I said let him through," she repeated, firmer this time.

They exchanged quick glances before finally stepping aside, though they still looked reluctant.

Rick brushed past them without a word, adjusting his jacket with a hint of irritation, as if trying to shake off the moment. His usual swagger was toned down, but when his eyes found Emerald’s, he held her gaze firmly.

There was no smug grin on his face, no cocky glint in his eyes; he just looked... uneasy.

Emerald opened her mouth to speak, but a familiar voice beat her to it. "Em?"

She turned sharply, heart giving a brief jolt at the sound. Nessa was weaving her way through the crowd from the back of the gathering, her long braids pulled into a neat bun.

Her normally calm expression showed worry. When she got to Emerald, she gently placed her hand on her arm, anchoring her.

"What are you doing back so early?" Nessa asked in a low voice. "I thought you were..."

"Forget that," Emerald cut in quickly. Her gaze flicked toward the commotion. "What’s going on here? Why is Rick creating a damn scene in front of our gates?"

Nessa bit her lip, glancing over Emerald’s shoulder toward where Rick now stood, waiting in awkward silence.

"You mean... you didn’t know?"

Emerald frowned. "Didn’t know what?"

"He’s been coming like this," Nessa said. "Every day since you left."

Emerald blinked, confused. "What?"

Nessa nodded. "Screaming at the gates, begging to speak to you. Sometimes even trying to bribe the guards. He never gave up. I told them not to let him in, but he didn’t stop."

Emerald exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers to her temples as the tension started to settle between her eyebrows. "Of course he didn’t."

Rick had always been persistent, stubborn to the point of recklessness. And now, apparently, dramatic.

One drama after another. Always.

She turned back toward him, her heels scraping lightly against the stone as she stepped forward. Rick looked like he was about to speak again, but she got there first.

"Didn’t get the message when I ignored all your calls?" she asked, her arms folded tightly across her chest. "Or was the part where I didn’t answer the twenty times you showed up at my pack not clear enough?"

Rick opened his mouth, but the usual cocky edge in his voice was missing. His tone, when it came, was unexpectedly low and honest. "No," he said. "But I had to try."

Emerald stared.

There was no trace of the smirk he usually wore like armour: no playful deflection, just exhaustion, and something else.

Regret?

Rick wasn’t the type to show real emotions. He didn’t do soft voices and dark circles under his eyes. Instead, he relied on smooth words and practised charm. But right now, he looked like a man fraying at the edges.

"I need to talk to you," he said quietly, almost like he wasn’t sure she’d let him. "Privately. It’s important."

She didn’t move right away. She just looked at him for a long moment, trying to assessing him. Then, with a sigh, she turned to the guards.

"Escort him inside. He can wait for me there."

Two guards gave her a short nod and gestured for Rick to follow. For once, he didn’t argue. He obeyed quietly.

Emerald’s eyes lingered on him as he disappeared inside, her arms still crossed like a barrier around herself.

"What the hell was that?" Kieran asked softly, stepping beside her.

She let out a slow breath. "I was about to ask you the same thing."

"Want me to stay?" he offered gently.

Emerald turned to glance at him. There was a warmth in his eyes, one that always appeared when he sensed she was one wrong word away from falling apart.

It was the same tone he used the day he followed her to the cave that night, the same tone he used when she came back from Adrien’s with tear-streaked cheeks and a broken heart.

"No," she whispered. "You’ve done enough for me already."

Kieran gave a slight nod, turning to head back toward his car. But halfway there, he paused and looked back.

"What happened... with Adrien?" he asked cautiously.

Emerald hesitated, something tightening in her chest. Then she looked away, blinking once to push down the sting behind her eyes.

"It’s a long story," she said. "But the short version? He picked someone else as his Luna."

Kieran’s brows lifted, stunned. "What?"

"I saw it with my own eyes," she continued in a cold voice. "He married her. Or he’s about to."

He looked like he’d just been slapped. "Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like..."

"I’m sure," she said flatly.

There was a beat of silence between them, heavy and pulsing.

Kieran clenched his jaw. "Do you... know why?"

Emerald shook her head. "I don’t care anymore."

And she meant it.

Maybe Adrien had been forced. Maybe he hadn’t. Either way, it didn’t matter. He’d made his choice, or let it be made for him.

He was gone, and she was done chasing ghosts.

Kieran watched her carefully, then stepped forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Call me if you need anything," he said quietly.

"Thanks," she murmured.

He turned and got into his car. The gravel crunched under the tires as he pulled away, disappearing down the winding road until he was just another shadow in the distance.

Emerald didn’t move.

Things had always been easier with Kieran. No twisted motives, no manipulation. It was just a quiet presence and stability.

Everyone else in her life seemed to arrive with chaos clenched in their fists, tossing it into her world like confetti, except it always cut like glass.

But that was over now.

She inhaled deeply, squared her shoulders, and stepped inside.

Rick was pacing the main lounge like a caged animal. His movements were sharp, erratic, as if his skin was too tight for his own bones. His fingers flexed and clenched at his sides.

The sound of her footsteps in the hall made him stop.

He turned and froze.

For a moment, neither of them said a word.

Emerald took him in—really looked. His shirt was wrinkled. His usually perfect hair slightly messy. The practiced charm had slipped. He looked exhausted. Haunted, even.

"What do you want, Rick?" she asked, her tone steady but guarded.

He opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again, eyes full of something vulnerable. Something real.

And then he said the words. "You were right."

Emerald’s brow furrowed. "Right about what?"

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Everything."