"The letter." His fingers dig deeper into my flesh. "Sabrina showed me the letter from your grandmother, written when you were first taken as her maid. It proved you were barren." His voice cracks slightly. "That's why I had to reject you. I needed an heir."
"A letter?" Understanding dawns, hot and bitter on my tongue. "Kael, that was a lie. There was no letter. I was never barren."
His grip loosens slightly, confusion flickering across his face. "What?"
"I was already pregnant when you rejected me," I whisper, my hand moving to rest beside his on my belly. "Pregnant with your child. Kael, this baby I carry is your heir."
His grip falls away completely. Something flickers in his steel-gray eyes — hope, maybe even tenderness. His other hand cups my face, thumbs brushing my tears away. "Talia…" he breathes, leaning closer. "My Luna…"
His lips brush mine, hungry, demanding. I want to recoil — my heart screams for Lucian, my body remembering the gentle strength of his touch, so different from this. But then a cold clarity washes over me: if I want to protect my baby, I have to make Kael believe me, believe in us.
So I force myself to respond, and to my shame, my body remembers this too — the heat of him, the familiar pine scent that once meant home. His hands tangle in my hair as he deepens the kiss, and I find myself responding despite everything, my body betraying my heart's protestations. His mouth trails down my neck, and a soft gasp escapes me.
"You were always mine," he whispers against my skin. "You'll always be mine."