Hearing these words, Kieran looked as if he’d been struck by lightning.
He staggered back several steps before barely regaining his composure.
He grabbed the collar of a nearby warrior, angrily demanding:
“Aren’t you warriors? Aren’t you supposed to protect the pack?”
“How could our pack stand by and watch their Luna die at the hands of rogues? Are you worthy of being called warriors?”
The warrior’s face instantly paled. He opened his mouth, explaining fearfully:
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+15 Bonus
“Alpha… Alpha Kieran, yesterday you ordered us not to rescue Luna Ava.”
“You said… Miss Willow needed protection more, so you directed all of us to guard her instead…”
Kieran froze as the memories returned.
Because I had been sent to trade myself for Willow, in a fit of rage, he had ordered his beta guards to forcibly escort me to the border.
Before leaving the pack, I had begged him one last time, crying out in fear:
“I’m pregnant! Three months along! You can’t send our child to die with your own hands!”
“Kieran, what gives you the right to sacrifice me for her? This is cruel!”
“Willow isn’t even in danger! She’s deceiving you!”
He thought I was making excuses, so he immediately instructed the head warrior:
“After the exchange, no one is to check on her without my permission.”
“I want to see if simply going to rogue territory is enough to scare her into obedience!”
Kieran closed his eyes in agony as he stared at the dried blood at the corner of our daughter’s mouth.
Before his eyes flashed the image of me lying on the stretcher, silver burns covering my skin, deathly cold.
Panic and regret consumed his entire being.
“L… I didn’t mean for her to die…”
“I thought it was her who hired the rogue wolves to kidnap Willow…”
“I just wanted to teach her a lesson, I just wanted her to be more obedient…”
“Yes, I just wanted her to behave, I did nothing wrong… I did nothing wrong…”
Kieran collapsed to the floor, clutching his head in anguish.
Such a great performance.
I stood beside him with only one thought in my mind.
Why do men always stand by as everything happens, then look at the unwanted results and say:
“This isn’t my fault.”
Was it my fault then?
Was it my fault for meeting him, for believing he would give me happiness?
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For having such a good, such a sweet child with him?
Boundless regret nearly drowned me completely.
I felt such hatred.
