Chapter 207 Something About Rivena

Brandon came in just in time.

“Moonheart, she’s…”

“Rivena… I’m Rivena,” she finished, offering a small smile.

Silence stretched longer than it should have as Emma studied her.

“Emma,” Emma replied.

“I know who you are. Nice to be at your service my Queen Luna.” She dipped her head, picked up the basket, and walked out with a soft smile, too smooth, too careful—like she had been waiting for this moment.

Emma watched her go, eyebrows slightly lifted.

“I thought you said it was just us,” she said, turning to Brandon.

“It was supposed to be,” he answered, stepping closer. “The High Luna insisted. She made the arrangements. More staff and guards are on their way too.”

“And you didn’t think I should know?”

“I was going to tell you,” he said, letting out a quiet breath. “I didn’t know today would be her first day. The High Luna sent her to Nice to deliver some accessories. Since Nice is only about thirty minutes from Monaco, she asked her to stop by and help out for a while. She’ll be leaving soon,” Brandon said.

Emma’s gaze stayed on the doorway a moment longer.

“I don’t like her,” she said quietly. “There’s something about her. I can’t place it.”

Brandon didn’t hesitate. He reached for her hand, steady and warm.

“Then she doesn’t stay,” he said. “She’ll be replaced as soon as your favorite maids arrive.”

“Yeah, I prefer Naomi… even Paige. I’m used to them already.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “It’s just that the high Luna trusts Rivena a lot.”

“I don’t trust her.”

Brandon exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced at her. “Alright. I hear you.” His fingers brushed lightly against hers. “She’ll head back as soon as she’s done with the delivery. Naomi is writing her exams and will come over as soon as she finishes. I just don’t want you worrying about Rivena.”

“I don’t want Naomi coming either,” Emma said.

Brandon’s smile softened. He cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin.

“Then it’ll just be us,” he said softly. “A few guards keeping their distance. No interruptions. Just you, me… and the little one who’s already stolen our hearts.”

They wandered through the house chamber by chamber until they reached the living chamber.

Emma stopped in the doorway.

Her lips parted slightly without a sound, eyes fixed ahead.

The walls were covered in paintings—one after another—but her gaze locked on a single frame.

The willow tree, her sitting beneath it, captured forever in Brandon’s painting.

She took a slow step inside, like the chamber had pulled her in.

“I love this memory,” she said quietly. “You really do believe in us, don’t you?”

Brandon stood beside her, eyes still on the painting.

“Yeah,” he said. “Keeps us grounded. Reminds us where we started… and how far we’ve come.”

Emma didn’t answer right away.

She turned toward him and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding on tighter than she meant to.

Her breath shook once.

Then again.

Brandon’s hand came up immediately, steady at her back.

She broke.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, warm and quiet, soaking into his shirt.

He didn’t move her away. Just held her there, one hand sliding up to her hair, the other firm at her back.

“It’s okay, my moonblessed one,” he murmured. “I love you. Always.”

His thumb brushed under her eye, then the next tear, slow and careful, like he was waiting for each one to fall.

She stayed pressed against him as the silence settled back into the chamber, her breathing slowly finding its way again while his hand kept gently wiping her face.

“Come here,” he murmured with a teasing smile. “I need my beautiful two-months-pregnant Queen Luna to pose for me. And no more tears… unless you want our little one to grow up staring at a painting of their mother crying while I spend the rest of my life explaining why.”

A laugh slipped through Emma’s tears. She swiped at her cheeks while Brandon’s hand rested against her side, rubbing slow circles that always seemed to calm her.

“You really planned all this?” she asked.

“I told you.” He lifted a shoulder. “I’m painting every month. Month one, month two, all the way until I finally get to hold him in my arms.”

Emma’s smile widened.

“That’s a lot of paintings.”

“Good thing I bought plenty of canvas.”

They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

The first week passed like drifting moonlight. They walked along coastal paths in the moonrise, Emma often barefoot despite Brandon’s quiet disapproval, which he expressed by simply picking her up without warning and carrying her back to the beach chair when he thought she had gone too far. She protested every time, but never enough to make him stop.

“You’re treating me like fragile glass,” she complained one afternoon.

Brandon carefully lowered her onto the picnic chair, adjusted the headrest, and eased her back against it.

“You’re not glass,” he said, brushing his hand down her arm as if confirming she was still warm and real. “You’re just… not allowed to fall off cliffs.”

“I was not falling off a cliff,” she muttered.

“You were near one,” he corrected.

That logic made no sense to her, but arguing with him was becoming a habit she strangely enjoyed.

The ocean breeze swept across the beach, lifting loose strands of Emma’s hair as the waves whispered against the shore.

Brandon sat beside her with a sketchbook resting on his lap. Every few moments, his gaze drifted from the page back to her face. Even behind her sunglasses, Emma caught him looking and smiled.

Without saying a word, Brandon smiled to himself and let his pencil move across the page, quietly capturing her in the painting.

A few minutes later, the waitress arrived with their food. They spread everything out on the mat and settled in. Emma stole bites from his plate. Brandon did the same, earning a playful swat on the arm. Their laughter blended with the sound of the waves.

By the time the moon began to dip and paint the water gold, their driver pulled up. Brandon helped Emma to her feet, brushed a grain of sand from her dress, and led her to the car. Soon, they were on their way home.

By the second week, small fights had become part of their rhythm.

It started over something absurd, as most of their disagreements did. Emma had insisted on going into Monaco’s city center without additional guards, while Brandon had insisted she take at least two. Emily, caught in the middle via video call, had been laughing silently until Emma snapped, “Why is everyone acting like I’m going to disappear if I walk five steps alone?”

Brandon had been calm. Too calm. “You won’t disappear,” he said. “But I won’t like it if you get surrounded.”

“So it’s about what you like now?” she shot back.

The chamber had gone quiet after that, even Emily on the screen pausing mid-smirk.

Brandon’s eyes had shifted slightly, something controlled but firm rising in him. “It’s about safety.”

“And I don’t get a say?” she asked, voice sharper than intended.

That was the moment silence stretched.

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. “You always have a say, Emma.”

But the way he said her name meant the conversation was ending, not continuing.

She left the chamber first.

For a few hours, the villa stayed unusually quiet. Emma sat by the window overlooking the sea, arms wrapped around herself even though the air was warm. She told herself she was fine, that it was just a disagreement, but the absence of his presence in the same space felt heavier than she expected.

When he finally came to her, he didn’t speak at first. He just stood there, leaning slightly against the doorway.

“You’re avoiding me,” he said after a moment.

“I’m thinking,” she replied without turning.

“That usually means I’m in trouble,” he said.

That made her exhale a short laugh despite herself. Slowly, she turned her head. “You’re always in trouble with me.”

He walked closer then, stopping just beside her chair. “I don’t want to control you,” he said quietly. “But I also don’t want to imagine losing you in a crowd.”

Emma looked at him for a long moment, then shifted slightly, making space on the chair beside her. He took it immediately, close enough that their shoulders touched.

“You don’t lose me in crowds,” she said softer now. “You just… forget I can walk through them too.”

That settled between them, and his hand found hers again, this time slower, more careful.

“I won’t forget,” he said.

She leaned her head lightly against his shoulder. “Good.”

The reconciliation was quiet, but it held longer than the argument ever did.

By the middle of the second week, the calls began.

The first came from King Eldric, his voice steady even through the distance, carrying the weight of authority and something almost like approval. “I trust Monaco is treating my Alpha and Queen Luna well,” he said.

Brandon stood near the terrace while Emma sat on the sofa behind him, listening.

“It is,” Brandon answered.

A pause followed, then the king added, “The council is calmer without you two arguing in their halls.”

Emma leaned forward slightly. “That sounds suspiciously like we’re a problem.”

There was a faint sound of amusement from the king. “You are a necessary one.”

The High Fang Regent called next, more formal, reminding them of pack responsibilities and upcoming festival, his tone careful but respectful, though he understood they were temporarily unreachable.

Brooklyn’s call was the least formal of all, her face appearing on the screen with a grin that immediately made Emma relax.

“You two look too peaceful,” she said. “It’s suspicious.”

“We are peaceful,” Emma replied.

Brandon added, “For now.”

That earned a quiet laugh from Brooklyn before she tilted her head, and the call ended.

In the second week of their honeymoon, Brandon was gone before moonrise.

When Emma finally blinked awake, some wolf was already in the chamber.

Rivena sat near the edge of the chamber, watching her with a soft smile.

Emma shot upright, clutching the sheet tightly against her chest.

“Rivena!” she gasped, pressing a hand to her racing heart. “Oh, my Moon Goddess, you startled me.”

A look of apology crossed Rivena’s face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I came to see if you were awake. Lunch is ready.”

“Okay.” Emma nodded, then glanced around the chamber. “Where’s my Alpha King?”

“He stepped out to get something.”

Before Emma could ask another question, footsteps echoed from the hallway.

A moment later, Brandon walked into the chamber carrying several shopping bags. Rivena quietly walked away, giving them space to chat.

“I thought she’d already gone back to Nice.”

Brandon took a step toward the door, confusion creasing his brow as he spoke. “Rivena said she was leaving from there. I was surprised to see her here.”

Emma looked up at him. “Ask her why she came back.”

Brandon gave a slight nod and called for Rivena.

A few minutes later, soft footsteps echoed through the hallway before a gentle knock sounded at the door.

Rivena stepped inside and bowed respectfully. “You summoned me, my High Alpha King?”

As she straightened, her eyes briefly drifted past Brandon toward the doorway, as though she had caught sight of—or heard—something no one else had.

Brandon studied her. “What happened? I thought you’d already left.”

“I was on my way,” Rivena replied calmly. “Then I realized I’d forgotten something, so I came back to get it. I’ll be leaving now.”

Brandon shook his head. “No. It’s already late. You can leave tomorrow moonrise.”

A flicker of hesitation crossed Rivena’s face before she lowered her gaze again.

“In that case,” she said softly, “perhaps you should call High Luna Alexandra. I don’t want her to scold me for returning later than expected.”

Then Rivena turned her gaze back to Emma.

A faint smile curved her lips, subtle enough to pass unnoticed by anyone else, but there was something unreadable about it.

Brandon took out his device and dialed the High Luna.

“Hello, Mother. Rivena will be returning tomorrow. I hope that’s alright with you.”

“Oh, thank the Moon Goddess,” the High Luna replied with obvious relief. “I was actually about to ask her to stay for another two days. One of my clients traveled unexpectedly, and there’s no one available to collect her packages.”

Rivena lowered her gaze, but not before a satisfied smile slipped across her face.

Emma said nothing.

Something about that smile told her the real reason Rivena wanted to stay had nothing to do with the High Luna.