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Chapter 112 Memory, Depression, and Sin 

Chapter 112: Memory, Depression, and Sin 

Killian’s POV 

Humans are an unpredictable species. Perhaps because of their short lifespan, they push themselves to evolve, striving for the pinnacle with relentless ambition. Just look at what they have achieved in the past few centuries like echnology, industry, power. Truly astonishing. The Sundrench Kingdom has remained well–hidden within human society, adapting seamlessly, mimicking their ways without ever truly becoming one of them. Just like today. 

I sat in a café, my Beta coat shielding me from the bitter Scottish winter. The warmth of the espresso in my hands did little to melt the ice lodged deep in my bones. I was paler than usual, the sleepless nights catching up to me, deepening the shadows beneath my eyes. The demons of my past never granted me peace. Depression, PTSD, or whatever name one might give it. I had long accepted that I was a man plagued and hunted by the echoes of my own sins. 

“I am utterly pathetic.” 

Ruby Lucienne. 

That name was an inscription that refused to be buried. It always haunted me whenever I observed the café’s patrons, my gaze lingering on the couples tucked into the corners, whispering sweet nothings over steaming cups of coffee. I envied them–their intimacy, the simplicity of their affection. 

What if Ruby had been given a chance to live? Would she have been like them, laughing at trivial jokes, her fingers curled around a cup too large for her hands? Would she have worn that exasperated smile she always had when I teased her, or laughed freely, easily, without the weight of those who had hurt her? 

And most importantly would she have forgiven me? 

“The answer is an absolute no.” 

Even so, I would chase her to the ends of the earth if she were to be reborn. But I do not seek forgiveness. Ltook her life when she was nothing but a victim. 

I let out a weary breath, forcing my grip to loosen around my cup before I shattered it. Guilt is a noose that never slackens, the executioner’s blade forever pressed against my throat. In my lifetime, I have never been like this, despite the countless deaths that have stained my hands. But with Ruby, I was manipulated like a fool into betraying the one I had sworn to protect. 

“Foolishness in decision–making,” I muttered. 

I was a tyrant, a coward, and the king who couldn’t even see the lies swirling around him. 

“Drowning in self–loathing again? Should I fetch you a raft, Your Majesty?” 

I didn’t need to look up to recognize that voice. Leonidas. Always appearing at the worst moments. 

“You’re late.” 

I took a sip of my coffee, letting the bitterness coat my tongue. It was nothing compared to the bitterness within me. Leonidas dropped into the chair across from me, stretching out his arms with the casual arrogance of a man who had never known true suffering. 

“I was unfortunately delayed.” 

I raised an eyebrow. “By what?” 

He grinned. “An old lady was crossing the street, and I-” 

“You were flirting with someone, weren’t you?” I interrupted. 

His grin widened, his chin lifting arrogantly so much so that I had the urge to throw him out the window. “That word sounds far too crude, Killian. Perhaps you meant to say that I was charming her so I could win her heart? If so, then yes.” 

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Why do I even bother asking?” 

“Because deep down, you secretly enjoy our conversations.” 

He leaned forward, stealing a sip of my coffee before I could stop him. “Anyway, you’ll want to hear this. There are a few packs in this city. I met one of their wolves today.” 

I gave him a blank stare. “And let me guess. You’ve now decided they’re your next conquest?” 

Leonidas feigned offense. “How dare you, Your Majesty you know this one already has a mate!” 

That caught my attention. I narrowed my eyes, 

“And yet, you’re still interested?” 

Successfully unlocked! 

cuf me. 

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. I may be a playboy, but I’m not a homewrecker.” 

“That’s still up for debate.” 

1/2 

Chapter 112. Memory, Depression, and Sin 

Leonidas waved a dismissive hand. “Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is… she’s different.” 

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. My headache was already growing. I could only hope that, at some point in the future, I wouldn’t find myself dealing with some absurd drama straight out of a soap opera–where a woman shows up, claiming to be pregnant and demanding I take responsibility for Leonidas‘ actions. Because, believe it or not, I had already witnessed something like that once before… even if Leonidas wasn’t the culprit that time. 

“Spare me your poetry.” 

“I’m serious.” He leaned forward, a rare hint of seriousness creeping into his tone. “I don’t know why, but she feels familiar.” 

I frowned, “What do you mean, Leonidas?” 

And so, he began recounting the events of how he met the she–wolf. I listened carefully, though some parts felt exaggerated. He even acted it out with his hands, demonstrating how he had saved the woman from being crushed by falling cans of food. 

“And did you exchange names?” 

He snapped his fingers in front of me. “Yeah. Rosalyn.” 

“Okay, just forget about her. Find another woman, or maybe just date Nora, I suggested, pleased to see the change in Leonidas‘ expression. 

“I would never date her. She rejected me, and it broke my tiny heart.” 

I made a face at that. My stress levels were rising because of this hopeless flirt. The conversation continued, shifting from love troubles to the internal politics of wolf relationships. My fingertips tapped against the polished wooden table. “You really want to work with these smaller packs?” he asked. 

“The world has changed, Beta. Whether we like it or not, we need a strategy,” I explained grimly. “I don’t want us to be caught in another tragedy where our kind is slaughtered by humans again, forcing us to go through the effort of erasing their memories.” 

Leonidas tensed. “Well, I feel the same way.” 

We sat in our bubble of silence, each lost in our own thoughts. For me, my mind kept drifting back to the bittersweet memories of the one true love of my life. 

“It’s been hundreds of years. Do you think she’s been reborn?” 

“Maybe,” I replied, my voice slightly unsteady. 

“And what will you do?” 

The café, the warmth of my coffee, the murmur of humans around us; all of them faded, swallowed by a single question that crashed over me like a tidal wave. 

“Atonement.” 

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