The Luna You Betrayed Is No Longer Yours

Chapter 115: Chapter 115 Ezekiel And Pierre

_Ezekiel’s POV_

My father had a way of opening conversations that made retreating from them very difficult.

He didn’t announce big topics. He just began them, mid-morning, in the middle of other activities, as if the subject had been sitting in the room the whole time and he was simply finally acknowledging it.

I had come to the main house for what I thought was a routine check-in. We had these periodically when I was in the province, short meetings that covered pack business and regional updates and which usually lasted thirty minutes and involved minimal personal conversation.

But fuck no.

We had only been seated for ten minutes when he said, “It’s time you married.”

I almost choked on my tea. I looked at the tea angrily like it was the root cause of my problems. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

“I’ve been thinking about it,” I said, which wasn’t a lie.

He looked at me with the expression he wore when he was assessing whether what I had said matched what I actually meant.

I had been thinking about it since Larry had sat in that hospital room and walked me through the logic of it with the patience of someone who had been preparing the argument for a while. The Ashthorne name. My father’s admiration for Smith Ashthorne. The way a match like that would read to everyone whose opinion my father cared about.

I had thought about it all night.

The honest result of thinking about it all night was that no matter how I arranged the logic, no matter how I followed the reasoning to its conclusion, the conclusion never felt right. Rowena was remarkable. She was genuinely one of the most capable people I had encountered and I respected her completely and I liked her in the straightforward way of someone who had been pulled out of a maintenance channel and wanted the person who pulled them out to be in their life.

I was grateful.

But not like that.

When I tried to imagine it like that, something in me just said no.

And then, without being invited, a different face appeared.

I picked up my tea.

“I have someone in mind,” I said.

My father looked at me with an expression I had not seen from him in a long time. Interested. Genuinely interested, not the polite performance of a man listening to his son before redirecting him.

“The Marchioness of Ashthorne,” I said.

The room was very quiet for a moment.

Then my father smiled.

It was a real smile. Full and warm and directed at me without any of the usual qualification that accompanied his expressions when they were aimed in my direction.

“Rowena Ashthorne,” he mouthed.

“Yes.”

“Smith’s daughter.”

“Yes.”

He sat back. He looked at the window and then at his hands and then back at me with the specific expression of a man arriving at a conclusion that pleased him more than he expected.

“She’s divorced,” he said.

“I know.”

“That’s not a concern,” he said, more to himself than to me. “The Ashthorne name is the name. The dissolution was legal and clean. She handled it correctly.” He nodded slowly. “She’s built something herself since then. I’ve been following it.” He looked at me. “You’ve actually done something right, Ezekiel.”

I held the tea cup.

“I’ll send the proposal,” he said, already moving into planning mode, already three steps ahead of the conversation. “Formally, from this house, to the Ashthorne residence. I have contacts who can facilitate the introduction on the right terms.” He stood. “Give me a few days to prepare it properly.”

“Father—”

“Go,” he said, with the wave of a man who had made a decision and had moved on from it entirely. “I have things to arrange.”

Then he walked out of the room.

I sat in the chair with my tea and looked at the empty doorway and thought about what I had just set in motion.

Oh shit. This was bad. I shouldn’t have told him about her yet. I should have spoken to her first. Cause what if Alaric was really into her?

Rowena was going to receive a formal marriage proposal from the Sunridge royal family.

She didn’t know it was coming.

I hadn’t fully decided I wanted to send it.

And the face that kept appearing in my head when I tried to think clearly about any of it was not hers.

I put the tea down and picked up my car keys from the table and left the house before anyone could stop me or ask where I was going. I didn’t take the guards. I just got in the car and drove and let the road do what roads did when I needed my head to clear.

It didn’t clear.

It just kept running the same loop.

I ended up at the bar I used when I needed somewhere to sit that wasn’t home and wasn’t official and didn’t require me to be anything in particular. The bartender knew my face and didn’t make a production of it and the corner seats were always available because the regulars here were people who understood about corner seats.

I ordered and sat down and looked at nothing.

Then I looked at the other corner.

I looked at it for a moment before I understood what I was seeing.

Pierre was actually sitting there.

Not Pierre put-together and composed and slightly exasperated the way he usually was. Pierre with his jacket over the back of the chair and his shirt slightly loosened and a glass in front of him that was not his first and an expression on his face that I had not seen there before.

He looked exhausted.

He looked like someone who had been sitting with something heavy for a while and had come here because he didn’t want to be anywhere that required him to look like he wasn’t.

He hadn’t seen me yet.

I sat there for a moment and thought about leaving.

Then I picked up my glass and walked across the bar and sat down across from him.

He looked up.

For a second, just a second, something moved across his face before the composure came back.

“Hi, Alpha.” I grinned.