Page 38 of The Prince's Secret Twins

“Yes,” she agreed, cutting off his self-recrimination. “You should have. And I’m telling you right now—I won’t let you shutme out like that again.” She stepped closer, mock-glaring up at him. “So be warned, Joran. In the future, you are going to explain things to me.”

He let out a short laugh, but his expression sobered just as quickly. His gaze swept the nursery, the bassinets, the remnants of a terrifying past few days. “But, Tila, I… I let you down. Again. I let someone steal one of our sons.” His voice cracked slightly, the weight of it pressing on him.

“No,” she argued, shifting Rafi in her arms. “Our sons are here. They are safe. We’ll put new security measures in place, and we’ll make sure it never happens again.” She reached up, cupping his face gently. “We have our family. And I want you as my husband.”

She moved closer, pressing her palm to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “Joran, I want you by my side as we raise these boys. As we build our life together.”

His hands curled around her waist, but he hesitated. “You know you don’t have to marry me, Tila. I will protect you and the boys for the rest of my life, no matter what.”

Her lips parted, hesitation flickering in her expression for the first time. “I want you, Joran,” she said, her voice almost tentative. “As long as you still want me.”

His reaction was instant. “Yes!” he said, the vehemence in his voice leaving no room for doubt. “Hell yes!”

He moved in, but the babies nestled in their arms created an impossible barrier between them. With an impatient huff, Joran carefully laid Laith down in the bassinet, then turned to Tila, taking Rafi from her and placing him in the other.

The moment the boys were settled, he reached for her, pulling her into his arms like he’d been starved for the feel of her.His lips crashed down onto hers, full of love, full of everything he hadn’t been able to say before.

“Yes,” he murmured against her lips, kissing her again. “Hell yes! I love you, Tila, and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life proving to you just how much.”

Tila smiled, breathless. “I love you too, Joran.”

She barely got the words out before he kissed her again.

Epilogue

Tila’s breath hitched as Khal’s words settled in the air like a heavy weight. It’s up to you.

She had never expected this. Never expected to hold such power over another person’s fate.

The woman had tried to steal her son. She’d finagled a job at the palace, infiltrated the staff, violated everyone’s trust and risked countless lives, not to mention, nearly shattered her world. By all logic, Tila should want vengeance.

But did she?

Her stomach churned, her emotions an uneasy storm—anger, sorrow, fear, and something else she couldn’t quite name. A week ago, she would have demanded justice in its purest form. Punishment. Consequences. Retribution. But now, sitting at this long, imposing table, with Khal watching her with his unreadable expression and Joran’s firm, steady hand on her shoulder, her emotions twisted into something far more complicated.

Ophelia had been desperate.

Tila exhaled slowly, straightening her shoulders. “She’s not well, Khal,” she said carefully, choosing her words with intention. “Ophelia clearly has mental health challenges. She doesn’t need a prison sentence—she needs help to get through… whatever she’s struggling with.”

She saw the flicker of something in Khal’s gaze—not disagreement, but consideration. Still, his expression remained stony, his hands in his pockets as if waiting for her to continue.

Tila rubbed her forehead, trying to sort through her own tangled thoughts. Khal might have been terrifying to mostpeople, but she had come to know better. He cared. Not just about duty, or justice, or law—but about doing what was right.

And, despite everything, she couldn’t shake the feeling that sending Ophelia to prison wasn’t right.

“She’s disturbed, Tila,” Khal said, his voice gruff.

“Yes, but why?” Tila countered. The question burned inside her, demanding an answer. “What made her so desperate to have a son that she was willing to get a job at a fortress, to risk death, in order to steal a baby that wasn’t hers?”

She looked at both men, searching their faces, willing them to understand.

“Something happened in her life to convince her that the only path to happiness was having a son,” she pressed. “Something so powerful, so consuming, that it made her believe it was worth risking everything.”

Joran shifted beside her, his hand tightening slightly on her shoulder. He wasn’t arguing, but she could feel the tension in his body—the silent war between his rage and his reason.

Khal leaned back in his chair, watching her intently. Then, after a long moment, he sighed.

“You’re right.”

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