Alpha's Secret Bride

The following day arrived quietly. For the first time in many months, Emma woke before dawn without the familiar ache in her chest. She rose from her bed and walked to the window, watching the first light slowly spread across the gardens of Moon Estate. Her gaze drifted toward the distant gates, and a faint smile touched her lips. Soon, Brandon would arrive, just as he always did. She wasn’t expecting some grand declaration from him, nor did she believe everything between them had been magically repaired. She simply knew one thing with absolute certainty: he would come.

A gentle knock sounded on her chamber door, and Emma turned from the window. "Come in." The maid stepped inside and bowed. "My Queen Luna, Mrs Thompson has arrived."

She nodded. "I’ll be down shortly."

The maid hesitated near the door, her hands coming together in front of her. "There is something else."

She looked up. "What is it?"

"The Bryan Oliver and Charlotte Nadia insisted on waiting outside to welcome their father."

She immediately turned back toward the window. Sure enough, Brandon had arrived, and Bryan and Charlotte were already racing across the courtyard toward him. Bryan reached him first, with Charlotte close behind. He laughed as he scooped his daughter into his arms while ruffling Bryan’s hair with his free hand, and Bryan immediately began talking to him, gesturing excitedly as though he had been waiting all moonrise to tell his father something.

Emma remained by the window, watching them quietly. Her eyes followed Brandon as he listened to Bryan and then lowered his head to hear whatever Charlotte was saying to him. There was no suspicion in Emma’s gaze now, no hesitation or fear. She simply stood there with a small smile, remembering Ashley’s words. Brandon had never stopped choosing them. Every single day, he kept showing up.

A few minutes later, she went downstairs to meet Mrs. Thompson. She found her in the living chamber with Brandon, and Mrs. Thompson’s face brightened the moment she saw her. She crossed the chamber and pulled Emma into a warm hug, which Emma returned before they stepped apart.

Emma then turned toward Brandon. "Moonrise, Brandon."

He met her eyes and gave her a small nod. "Moonrise, Emma."

Mrs. Thompson looked between them, her expression slowly changing as she took in the quiet exchange. Surprise flickered across her face, followed by a smile she couldn’t quite hide.

When Brandon excused himself to join the pups in the garden, Emma waited until he was out of earshot before turning her attention back to Mrs Thompson.

"You look wonderful," Emma said, looking her over with a smile. "America must have been good to you. You look so rested."

Mrs. Thompson laughed softly. "It was. I needed a break."

"We missed you," she said. "The pups especially. They kept asking when you were coming back."

Mrs. Thompson’s smile widened. "I missed them too. I thought about those two the whole time I was away."

Emma slipped her arm through Mrs. Thompson’s and smiled. "Did you enjoy your vacation? Where did you go? Tell me everything."

"I spent some time in California, then visited my sibling in New York. It was a lovely trip, but I’m happy to be back."

Emma smiled. "I’m glad you’re back too. The pups will be so happy to see you."

"They have already welcomed me back," Mrs. Thompson said with a laugh. "And nearly knocked me over."

Emma smiled, and Mrs. Thompson turned her full attention to her, a knowing look settling over her face.

"Now, back to the reason you called me back in the middle of my leave."

They both giggled.

"I was wondering how long it would take before you two started finding your way back to each other."

She glanced at her. "We’re not there yet."

"I know." Mrs. Thompson’s smile softened. "But you’re walking in the same direction now."

Emma was quiet for a moment.

"I don’t want to pressure him," she said. "He’s been giving me space, and I don’t want him to think I’m only doing this because I feel guilty."

Mrs. Thompson nodded. "Then don’t do anything because you feel guilty."

Emma looked at her.

"If you want to see him, go because you want to see him. If you want to talk to him, talk because you have something you want to say. And if you need more time, take it."

Emma’s fingers tightened slightly around the edge of her dress.

"What if I’m too late?"

Mrs. Thompson smiled gently. "Your Highness, that man has been coming here every day without asking you for anything. I don’t think he’s waiting for a perfect moment. I think he’s waiting for you to decide that you want him back."

She lowered her eyes, her fingers slowly loosening around the edge of her dress.

"I think I’m ready."

Mrs. Thompson’s expression softened. "You think you’re ready?"

She gave a small, nervous smile. "I know I am. I’m just afraid."

"Of what?"

She was quiet for a moment before looking toward the garden where Brandon had gone with the pups. "Of letting him close again and ending up hurt the same way."

Mrs. Thompson nodded slowly. "That’s understandable. But letting him back into your life doesn’t mean you have to forget what happened."

Emma looked at her.

"You can forgive him and still take your time," Mrs. Thompson continued. "You can love him and still have boundaries. Those things don’t cancel each other out."

Emma’s eyes remained on the garden. "He hasn’t asked me for anything."

"I noticed."

"He hasn’t even asked me to forgive him or take him back."

Mrs. Thompson smiled faintly. "Then perhaps that’s why you’re beginning to trust him again."

She turned back to her.

"He’s giving you space to make your own choice," Mrs. Thompson said. "Don’t mistake that patience for indifference."

She swallowed. "What should I do?"

Mrs. Thompson reached over and gently squeezed her hand.

"Nothing you don’t want to do. But if your heart is telling you that you want to take a step toward him, then take one."

She glanced toward the garden again. Through the window, she could see Brandon crouched beside Charlotte while Bryan stood nearby, talking excitedly.

"What if I don’t know how to start?"

Mrs. Thompson smiled. "You don’t need a perfect beginning."

She looked back at her.

"Start with the truth," Mrs. Thompson said quietly. "Tell him what you feel now. Not what you felt months ago. Not what you think he wants to hear. Just tell him where your heart is today."

Emma’s eyes softened.

"And if you’re ready to go to him," Mrs. Thompson added, "don’t wait for him to come to you again."

Emma looked toward the garden, her eyes following Brandon through the window. "Then tomorrow, I’ll go to him."

Mrs. Thompson gave her an approving smile. "Good."

She turned toward the garden and called out, "Your Highnesses, it’s time for your bath!"

The pups looked up at once, and Mrs. Thompson laughed as they came running toward her.

The day passed in a peaceful routine. Bryan challenged Brandon to another chess match, insisting he would win this time, while Emma and Mrs Thompson sat nearby, chatting and laughing. Charlotte eventually came over with a drawing clutched in both hands, proudly announcing that she had made a picture of their family.

The drawing showed four stick figures holding hands beneath a large silver moon. Brandon took it from her and studied it carefully, turning it slightly in his hands before looking back at her.

"This is beautiful."

Charlotte pointed to each figure one by one. "Father." She tapped the tallest one, then pointed to the next. "Mother." Her little finger moved to Bryan and then to herself. "Bryan. Me."

Brandon smiled as he looked at the drawing again. "You drew all of us together."

Charlotte nodded as though there was nothing unusual about it. "Family."

Emma’s fingers curled lightly against her dress as she watched them. The simple word caught somewhere in her chest. To Charlotte, there was nothing complicated about the four of them standing together. They were simply a family. The adults were the ones who had made everything complicated.

That moonfall, after Brandon left for a meeting, and Mrs Thompson back to her duty, Emma remained in the garden with Charlotte’s drawing still in her hands. She was looking down at the little figures when Bryan wandered over and stopped beside her.

"Mother?"

Emma lowered the drawing slightly and looked at him. "Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

She gave him a small smile. "You always can."

Bryan shifted his feet against the grass before finally looking up at her. "Are you still angry with Father?"

Emma’s eyes dropped to the drawing again. Her thumb moved slowly over the edge of the paper as she thought about his question, and when she answered, she didn’t try to hide behind another excuse.

"No."

Bryan’s face brightened. "Really?"

Emma nodded slowly. "I’m not angry anymore."

He seemed relieved, but after a moment, his smile faded. "Then..." He hesitated, rubbing his fingers together before looking back at her. "Why doesn’t Father live with us?"

Emma opened her mouth, but no answer came. She looked toward the villa, then back at the drawing in her hands. For so long, she had known exactly why Brandon couldn’t be with them. Now, standing there with her son’s innocent question hanging between them, none of those reasons felt like an answer she could believe in anymore.

Bryan reached for her hand and gently slipped his fingers into hers. "I know Father made you cry."

Emma looked down at him, surprised by the certainty in his voice.

He lowered his eyes to their joined hands. "I heard you crying at moonfall."

Emma’s chest tightened.

"But..." Bryan paused, as though he wasn’t sure whether he should continue. After a moment, he looked up again. "I’ve seen Father cry too."

She went still. "What?"

Bryan nodded. "A few days ago, when he thought I was asleep, he was sitting beside my bed." His small fingers tightened around hers as he lowered his gaze. "He said he was sorry and wished our family could be whole again."

She felt her eyes sting, and she quickly blinked as she looked away.

"He didn’t know I heard him," Bryan added quietly.

For a moment, she couldn’t speak. She looked down at her pup, at his small hand wrapped around hers, and felt the weight of everything she had been trying to protect him from.

Bryan gave her hand another gentle squeeze. "I don’t like it when people I love are sad."

Emma’s throat tightened at his simple words. She looked down at their joined hands, gently curling her fingers around his little hand as she tried to hold back the tears in her eyes.

"Neither do I," she whispered.

That moonfall, after the pups had gone to bed, Emma walked alone through the quiet halls of Moon Estate. Her footsteps were soft against the floor as she made her way to the chamber where Brandon had once slept, on the day he couldn’t return home until the royal healers had attended to Charlotte.

The chamber had remained untouched. The chair where he had sat still stood beside the table, and the book he had been reading that day was still resting on the table. She stopped beside it and slowly reached for the book, running her fingers over the worn cover before picking it up. She turned it over in her hands, then looked around the chamber as memories of Brandon sitting there came back to her.

For months, she had preserved this chamber because she couldn’t bear to erase him from it. Now, standing there with his unfinished book in her hands, she finally understood why.

A tear rolled slowly down her cheek.

"I never stopped waiting for you."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, and the words disappeared into the quiet chamber.

She wiped the tear from her cheek and looked around one last time. She held the book against her chest for a moment before setting it back on the table, and when she finally turned toward the door, something inside her had settled.

Tomorrow, she wouldn’t wait for Brandon to come to Moon Estate. She would go to him.

Not because he had asked. He never had.

Not because Ashley had told her to. He hadn’t.

She would go because her heart had finally caught up with the truth. Love wasn’t rebuilt through one grand gesture. It had been rebuilt every moonrise when Brandon arrived, every moonfall when he quietly left, every promise he kept, and every time he chose his family without asking anything in return.

She picked up Charlotte’s drawing from where she had left it and gently slipped it inside Brandon’s old book. Her fingers lingered on the cover for a moment before she closed it carefully.

A small smile appeared through her tears.

Tomorrow, she will go home to the man she loves.

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