“Your mother,” he says slowly. “Murdered my parents. Tore my family apart.”
It’s not a question, but I nod anyway, unable to speak through my tears.
“And you knew this when you came here? When you applied to be Nora’s nanny? When you let me…when we…” He stops, unable to continue, his face contorted with disgust and betrayal.
“No!” I cry, desperate for him to understand. “I only found out after I’d already started working here. I didn’t know how to tell you. I was trying to find the right time to tell you. To apologize.”
“There is no right way to tell someone your mother murdered their parents,” he cuts in, his voice like ice. “Put your clothes on.”
I blink, confused by the abrupt command. “What?”
“Put. Your. Clothes. On.” Each word is precise, clipped. “We’re done here.”
“Kieran, please,” I say softly, taking a step toward him. I feel bad, and the excruciating pain of getting rejected is hitting me. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t know?—”
“Put your clothes on, Francine,” he says. “Now.”
I drop my towel, my hands shaking so badly I can barely function. I grab underwear from the drawer, feeling his hard gaze on me as I step into it. The silence in the room is suffocating, broken only by my ragged breathing and the rustle of fabric as I dress.
I pull on jeans and a t-shirt, not bothering with a bra or socks. My fingers fumble with the button of my jeans. Part of me wants to run to him, to throw my arms around him, to make him understand that I’m not my mother.
That I would never hurt him, never hurt anyone.
But the rigid set of his shoulders, the cold fury radiating from him in waves, keeps me rooted in place. This is a side of Kieran I’ve never seen. This is an alpha consumed by grief and rage, a man who has just had old wounds ripped open in the cruelest way possible.
“Kieran,” I try once more, my voice small. “Please talk to me. I’m sorry about your parents. I’m so sorry for what my mother did. But I’m not her.”
He says nothing, just walks to my suitcase and snaps it shut with brutal efficiency. He lifts it as if it weighs nothing, then looks at me with eyes so devoid of warmth they could freeze fire.
“Let’s go,” he says, heading for the door without waiting to see if I follow.
I grab my purse and phone, my legs unsteady as I trail after him down the hallway where just yesterday he carried me, my body still filled with his cum, his whispered promises of forever still echoing in my ears.
The walk to my car is silent, the only sound our footsteps on the pavement. Kieran loads my suitcase into the trunk with mechanical precision, his face a mask of controlled rage. I stand helplessly beside the driver’s door, waiting for him to say something, anything.
Finally, he turns to me, his expression closed off, unreadable.
“What now?” I ask.
“Unfortunately,” he says, his voice clinical, detached, “I’ll need to hire a new nanny for Nora.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. Not just rejected as his omega, but also fired as Nora’s nanny. Cut out of their lives completely. I think of the little girl with her bouncy curls and bright eyes, how she would run to me with books to read, how she would beg me to braid her hair like mine. I’ll never see her again.
“Kieran, please,” I whisper, tears flowing freely now. “Is this how it ends? After everything we shared during my heat? After you told me I was yours?”
A flash of pain flickers across his eyes.
“I’ve been looking for my parents’ killer for years,” he says flatly. “I don’t want to be involved with the killer’s family.”
“But I’m not…” I start, then stop, the words dying in my throat. In his eyes, I am my mother’s daughter. Tainted by association. Unworthy of his pack, his protection, his love. There’s nothing I can say anymore.
Tears blur my vision as I climb into the driver’s seat. Kieran closes the door for me with a finality that breaks whatever was left of my heart.
Through the window, I see his lips move.
“Drive safely,” he says, then turns and walks away without a backward glance.
I start the engine with numb fingers, pulling away from the house that felt like home for such a brief, magical time. In my rearview mirror, I watch Kieran’s figure growing smaller until he disappears altogether.
