#Chapter 80: Afterburn
(Siena’s POV)
Raiden’s words linger long after he speaks them, their weight pressing into the quiet spaces of my mind.
His confession–raw, unguarded, and so unlike the man I once knew–stirs emotions I thought I’d buried.
For nearly two years, I’ve worked to process the wounds he left behind, to rebuild my life without the shadow of his rejection looming over me. But now, his midnight eyes, filled with genuine regret, crack open something I’d long since locked away.
I don’t want to feel anything for him. But feelings don’t ask for permission, do they?
I turn back, unable to help myself.
“What do you want from me, Raiden?” I ask finally, my voice quieter than I intend but no less firm.
Exhaustion seeps into my words, the kind that comes not from physical strain but from emotional heaviness. “Forgiveness? Absolution? What purpose does this confession serve when nothing can be changed?”
The directness of my question surprises him.
I can see it in the way his jaw slackens slightly, how his eyes widen for the briefest moment before his composure returns. He’s too used to my diplomatic tone, the careful neutrality I perfected during our marriage to keep the peace. But I’m not that woman anymore.
“I don’t expect forgiveness,” he says, his voice low but steady. “I don’t deserve it. And I know nothing I say can undo the past. But I needed you to know-”
The truth in his tone is undeniable, and for a moment, it feels like the ground shifts beneath me.
This is the acknowledgment I once craved, the validation I begged for silently in the dark nights when his indifference felt like a blade to my heart. But now, hearing it spoken aloud, it lands differently.
It’s too late.
Yet, as I watch him standing there, his shoulders tense, his eyes filled with an ache that mirrors my own, I feel something unexpected: compassion.
Not the kind that invites reconciliation or softens my resolve to move forward without him.
This is a quieter compassion, born of understanding the weight of regret he now carries.
I know what it feels like to be unseen, to be misunderstood.
And while I can’t absolve him of the choices he made, I can acknowledge the courage it takes to admit his failures aloud.
“I appreciate your honesty,” I say cautiously.“Perhaps we can both find closure in truth, if nothing else.”
Something flickers across his face–disappointment, perhaps, or the faintest glimmer of hope extinguished too soon. Was he truly holding onto the possibility of reconciliation, even after everything?
The thought stirs something unwelcome in my chest, a flutter of butterflies I immediately suppress.
This is not the time to entertain such thoughts.
Not now.
Not ever.
***
As I prepare for Windhowl’s formal farewell dinner, I try to focus on the task at hand.
The small guest quarters feel stifling, the air heavy with the weight of the day’s events. I pull a sleek emerald dress from my suitcase, its simplicity a deliberate choice–uncomplicated yet elegant, much like the life I’ve built for myself.
But as I fasten the delicate clasp of my necklace, there’s a knock at the door.
Rairity steps inside, her expression unusually serious. “Siena,” she says, her voice soft but charged with meaning. “You
need to hear this.”
I turn to face her, my wolf stirring at the tension in her tone. “What is it?”
“Raiden,” she begins, pausing as though choo: Successfully unlocked! ormally transferred the contested territories
to Windhowl’s control.”
For a moment, I think I’ve misheard her. “What?”
“The lands you spent years negotiating for,” Rairity explains. “The ones he refused to approve during your leadership. He’s pushed the council to approve their transfer to Windhowl.”
1/3
#Chapter 80 Afterburn
1 blink, trying to process what she’s saying.
Those territories were a point of constant contention during my time as Luna, a battle I fought tirelessly with little success. Their strategic value to Windhowl was undeniable, yet Raiden dismissed my efforts as frivolous, claiming the cost outweighed the benefits.
Now, he’s handed them over.
“Why?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Rairity shrugs, though her expression softens. “Maybe it’s his way of making amends. A gesture to show he understands what he took from you.”
I turn away from her, staring at my reflection in the small mirror above the dresser. My wolf stirs again, restless with the realization that this isn’t just an apology–it’s an attempt at meaningful change.
For years, Raiden’s apologies were hollow, his words empty promises unbacked by action.
But this… this is different.
Transferring those territories isn’t a small gesture. It requires political capital, council approval, and the risk of backlash from other packs. It’s a move that speaks not just of acknowledgment but of genuine effort to right his wrongs. It unsettles me.
It’s easier to dismiss him when his apologies are just words. But action–real, tangible action–forces me to confront the possibility that he’s not the same man I walked away from.
“Siena?” Rairity prompts gently, breaking me from my thoughts.
“I’m fine,” I say quickly, though the words feel unconvincing even to my own ears. I take a deep breath, steadying myself. * Thank you for telling me.”
She nods, watching me carefully before stepping out of the room.
The farewell dinner is a formal affair, held in the grand hall of Windhowl’s main packhouse.
As I descend the stairs, the room is filled with pack members, visiting dignitaries, and representatives from allied territories. The atmosphere is celebratory, the air buzzing with laughter and conversation.
Moving through the crowd with practiced ease, exchanging pleasantries and accepting well–wishes for my continued work abroad. But beneath my calm exterior, my thoughts churn relentlessly.
When Raiden finally approaches, I’m not surprised. He moves through the crowd with the quiet authority of an Alpha King his midnight eyes scanning the room until they land on me.
“Siena,” he greets, his voice low and careful.
“Raiden,” I reply, keeping my tone neutral.
For a moment, we simply look at each other, the noise of the room fading into the background.
He’s dressed formally, his broad frame commanding attention even in a sea of powerful figures.
But it’s his eyes that hold me–dark and searching, filled with emotions I can’t name.
“I assume you heard about the territories,” he says finally.
“I did,” I reply, meeting his gaze. “It was… unexpected.”
His lips press into a thin line, and he nods. “It wasn’t easy to push it through the council, but it was the right thing to do.”
“The right thing,” I echo, studying him carefully. “And why now, Raiden? Why not two years ago? Or three?”
He exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Siena, I see the damage I caused by refusing to listen.”
There’s a raw honesty in his words, the kind that feels like it costs him to say it.
“I don’t know if this makes up for anything,” he continues, his voice quieter now. “But I wanted to honor your vision. To show you that I understand, even if it’s too late.”
I don’t respond immediately, the weight of his words settling over me.
“Thank you,” I say finally, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “For doing what’s right for Windhowl.”
His eyes search mine, as though he’s looking for something more in my response. But I keep my expression neutral, unwilling to give him anything beyond polite acknowledgment.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Raiden,” I say, stepping away before the moment can linger too long.
Genuine change, however belated, is harder to dismiss than words.
And that terrifies me.
Where do I go from here?
#Chapter 81: Raiden
#Chapter 81: Raiden
