I pulled back so sharply my spine hit the doorframe.

"Don't touch me," I said, my voice dropping into a harsh rasp. "What did you just say?"

Celeste didn't flinch. Her hands rested lightly against her own waist, her head tilting with an innocent sort of curiosity.

"I said he needs to know his name," she repeated smoothly. "Cassian Quinn Cross. It has a beautiful ring to it, don't you think?"

"His name is none of your business," I said, my heart hammering against my ribs. "And you will never touch my stomach again."

Heavy footsteps sounded on the hardwood stairs behind me. Victor stepped into the doorway, followed by my mother. Neither of them looked surprised by the nursery, the crib, or the silver lettering mounted on the wall.

They looked like investors inspecting a finished project.

"Stop acting hysterical, Elara," my mother said, stepping past me into the room. She smoothed her hand over the tailored crib sheets with quiet satisfaction. "Celeste has been married for two years without producing an heir. The elders are growing restless, and the Silver Crest bloodline cannot falter."

I stared at her, unable to fathom the words coming out of her mouth. "What does that have to do with my baby?"

"Everything," Victor said, his voice flat and commanding. "You are carrying a healthy male pup with strong Alpha lineage. Silver Crest needs an heir, and you are going to provide it."

A cold, sickening knot twisted in the pit of my stomach. "Are you out of your minds? This is Lucian's child. My child."

"It's the most sensible solution for everyone," Mother said, turning to face me. Her tone was completely matter-of-fact, as if she were explaining a simple financial transaction. "You are young and fertile. You can easily give Lucian another pup next year. But Celeste needs this child right now. She has a pack standing to maintain, while you are out in the northern territory doing nothing of value."

"You want me to just give you my son?" The words came out in a strangled gasp. "You faked a medical emergency, dragged me four hours from my home, just to steal my baby?"

"Steal is an ugly word," Mother snapped. "We are keeping the child in the family, where he belongs."

"I am leaving," I said, turning toward the hallway. "Right now."

Victor blocked the doorway with his broad frame, not moving an inch.

"You aren't going anywhere until you talk some sense into yourself," he said.

"Get out of my way, Victor."

My mother let out a sharp, dismissive laugh from behind me. "Look at you. Still playing the defiant daughter. Tell me, Elara, what makes you think you have any right to raise an Alpha pup?"

I froze, looking back at her.

"You can't even shift," Mother said, her eyes narrowing in disdain. "You're a defective wolf who couldn't trigger her own form, and you ran off to mate with an outcast who lives on the fringes. How do you expect to protect an Alpha heir when you can't even defend yourself?"

Every word was calculated to cut deep, dragging up years of childhood shame I had fought so hard to bury.

"Celeste can give him a Pack," Victor stated, his voice booming in the quiet room. "A father. A future. Real status among the council. What can you offer him out in the wilderness? A mother who breaks under pressure?"

Celeste stepped up beside me. Before I could pull away, her fingers brushed against the curve of my belly again, soft and mocking.

"Don't look at us like that, Elara," Celeste murmured, her voice dripping with counterfeit sweetness. "I'm not going to erase you. Once he's born and settled, you can visit whenever pack duties allow. He will always know you."

She paused, smiling right into my eyes.

"He'll know you as his favorite Aunt Elara."

Rage surged through me, hot and violent. I shoved her hands off me with enough force to send her stumbling back against the dresser.

"Don't you dare," I hissed. "You will never lay a hand on my child."

Celeste didn't get angry. Instead, a smug, venomous grin spread across her lips. She reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, and tapped the screen before turning it toward me.

"You're a little late to stop this, sister," she said.

I looked down at the bright screen.

It was the pack's private social forum. At the top was a photo of Celeste holding a sonogram, surrounded by dozens of congratulatory comments from council members, pack elders, and family friends.

The caption read: *Blessed beyond words. My selfless sister Elara has agreed to carry our miracle pup as a surrogate. Silver Crest will have its heir.*

Below it, hundreds of pack members showered her with praise:

*What an incredible sacrifice by Elara.*

*Lady Celeste will make the most wonderful mother.*

*A true blessing for our territory!*

My chest tightened until I could barely draw air. The dates on the comments went back nearly three weeks.

"You planned this," I whispered, the full scope of the trap falling into place. "You told the entire pack I volunteered to be your surrogate."

"Of course I did," Celeste said, tucking her phone away. "Everyone knows how desperate I've been for a child. They know how generous you were to offer your womb. So if you run crying to the council or try to back out now, who do you think they'll believe?"

"They'll see you as unstable," Mother added coldly. "A jealous sister trying to tear apart Celeste's family after giving your word. The entire territory will stand behind Celeste."

They had built an airtight cage around me before I had even set foot across their border. If I fought them publicly in this territory, I would be painted as the villain who reneged on a sacred family promise.

I didn't say another word.

Arguing with them was useless. They weren't trying to persuade me; they had already decided my child was theirs to take.

I turned around, brushed past Victor's shoulder with all the weight I could muster, and marched down the hallway.

"Elara!" Victor barked behind me. "Get back here!"

I ignored him, taking the stairs as fast as my pregnancy allowed. I reached the entryway, grabbed my coat from the rack, and shoved the heavy front door open.

The cool night air hit my face, but it brought no relief.

I stepped onto the driveway and stopped dead in my tracks.

The gravel space where I had parked my sedan was empty.

"Looking for your keys?" Victor's voice came from the front porch. He stood at the top of the steps, his arms crossed over his chest. "I had Marcus move your car to the underground garage. You're far too agitated to drive back down the mountain tonight."

"Give me my keys," I demanded, spinning around to face him. "Now!"

"You're staying right here until the baby is delivered," Victor said evenly. "We have our own healers. You'll be taken care of."

Panic spiked in my chest. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my phone. My fingers shook as I searched for Lucian’s contact, desperate to hear his voice, desperate to give him our location.

Before I could press call, a hand clamped down on my wrist.

Mother ripped the phone out of my grip with a sudden, vicious yank.

"You're emotional," she said smoothly, slipping my phone into her own pocket. "Think about the baby. The radiation from these devices isn't good for him anyway."

"Give it back!" I lunged forward, but two massive pack guards stepped out from the shadows beside the porch.

They took their positions directly in front of the gate, their broad shoulders blocking the only path leading down the driveway. Their eyes were cold, locked onto me with unwavering obedience to Victor.

I stood trapped on the driveway, the cold mountain wind biting through my clothes.

My car was gone. My phone was gone.

They had never brought me here to visit a dying father.

They had brought me here to harvest my son.

They didn't take me back upstairs.

Instead, two guards flanked me down the east corridor of the estate and guided me straight into the pack healer wing. The suite was spacious and clean, but the heavy iron latch on the outside of the door made its true purpose obvious.

By the next morning, the story was already circulating among the household staff. Lady Elara had returned home exhausted from travel, suffering from prenatal fatigue, and required absolute bed rest under the care of pack healers.

When the door clicked open, Victor stepped inside, holding a clipboard with medical intake forms.

"I want my phone," I said, standing by the edge of the mattress. "I want my driver's license, my car keys, and my purse."

Victor didn't look up from the paperwork. "You'll get your personal effects back when your emotions settle and you start cooperating with this family."

"I am not a prisoner, Victor."

"You are an expectant mother who needs supervision," he replied, setting the board down on the small table near the window. "You'll stay in this wing until the delivery. The healers will monitor your vitals twice a day."

For years, I had shrunk under his gaze. I had apologized for things I never did, desperately trying to earn a shred of his approval.

This time, I didn't beg. I didn't cry.

I looked him straight in the eyes and kept my voice level and cold.

"My mate will come for me."

Victor stopped. For a second, the room was completely silent, and then a harsh bark of laughter broke from his chest.

"Your mate?" He shook his head, looking at me with genuine amusement. "That stray from the northern woods?"

He took a step toward me, his sneer deepening.

"Three years, Elara. In three whole years, that man has never set foot across my border. He never offered a formal bride price, never introduced himself to the Silver Crest council, and never showed his face to your parents. You ran off with an outcast who lives on frozen dirt."

"You know nothing about Lucian," I said through clenched teeth.

"I know he is a coward," Victor snapped. "He knows what Silver Crest represents. If he had any real power or lineage, he would have claimed you publicly. Instead, he hides in the north. He won't dare set foot on my land. And even if he showed up at my gates, my enforcers would tear him apart before he took three steps."

The door swung wider, and Celeste strolled in, carrying a vase of fresh white lilies. She set them on the bedside table and turned to me with an expression of manufactured pity.

"Victor is only being realistic, Elara," Celeste said softly. "You need to think about the reality of your situation. Even if your mate cared enough to look for you, what kind of life could he give this child?"

She smoothed down the front of her tailored blouse, tilting her head.

"Lucian lives like an exile. If he truly loved you, he would want his son to grow up with status, resources, and a respected name. A pup raised by a rogue in the wilderness is nothing. Here, he will be an heir to an established territory."

"He is not yours to claim," I said.

"He will be," Celeste replied with an easy, confident smile. "And deep down, you know it's for the best."

Victor gave a curt nod toward the door. "Rest, Elara. Breakfast will be brought in shortly."

They walked out together, and the heavy bolt slid shut from the exterior with a sickening thud.

I stood in the center of the room, my hands shaking. They had no idea who Lucian really was. They saw only what they wanted to see—an easy target to exploit.

I took a deep breath, forcing my racing pulse to slow. I needed to keep my strength. Lucian had given me three days, and I had to protect my baby until then.

I turned to the small duffel bag the guards had tossed onto the armchair. Unzipping the side pocket, I reached inside for the silver metal pill case.

My fingers brushed against empty fabric.

I pulled the bag open completely, dumping the contents onto the bed. My spare clothes and toiletries tumbled out, but the case was gone.

The pregnancy scent stabilizer was nowhere to be found.

Panic flared in my chest. Because I couldn't trigger my wolf form, my body struggled to naturally balance the potent Alpha scent Lucian had marked me with. During pregnancy, that bond scent intensified drastically. Without the daily stabilizer Lucian’s apothecary prepared for me, the hormonal imbalance could throw my system into severe distress.

I slammed my hand against the wooden door. "Open this door!"

The latch rattled, and the door swung open. My mother stood in the hallway, holding a fresh stack of towels.

"Where is my medication?" I demanded, blocking her path. "The silver case in my bag. Who took it?"

Mother pushed past me into the room, setting the towels on the dresser with irritating calm.

"I took it," she said.

"Give it back to me right now."

"I threw it into the incinerator," Mother replied, turning to look at me without an ounce of remorse. "Some unverified northern concoction in an unmarked tin? We have no idea what herbs or chemicals were in those pills. I'm not going to let you ingest random substances and poison Celeste's baby."

"That is my prescription!" I screamed, the rage tearing through my throat. "It's a stabilizer! Because I can't shift, my body can't regulate an Alpha's mating mark while pregnant! Without it, my scent receptors will collapse!"

Mother scoffed, waving her hand dismissively.

"You always were dramatic, Elara. You just want an excuse to cling to that rogue's scent. Our pack healers have overseen dozens of successful births. They will provide proper vitamins once you calm down."

"You don't understand what you just did—"

"Enough," Mother cut me off, her tone hardening. "Lie down and stop screaming. You're raising your blood pressure, and that isn't good for the child."

She turned around, stepped into the corridor, and pulled the door shut behind her. The lock engaged once more.

I leaned against the wall, my chest heaving as dread settled deep into my gut.

By nightfall, the consequences began.

It started with a dull ache in my lower back, followed by a sharp, burning heat spreading beneath my collarbone where Lucian’s mark rested. Without the medication to filter the intensity, my scent spiked violently, filling the small room with a heavy, unstable sweetness.

Then came the cramps.

A vicious, tightening pain gripped my lower abdomen, sharp enough to steal the air straight from my lungs.

"Ah!"

The agony pulled me down. My knees struck the hardwood floor as I doubled over, wrapping both arms around my stomach.

Cold sweat broke out across my forehead. My vision blurred around the edges, the room spinning as another contraction ripped through my belly.

"Help..." I gasped, trying to reach for the edge of the bed. "Someone... help me..."

The sudden surge of distress scent must have alerted the guards in the hall. The door flew open with a loud bang.

Footsteps rushed inside.

"Elara!"

Mother hurried into the room, dropping down onto her knees beside me.

For one fleeting, foolish fraction of a second, an old childhood memory flared in my mind. A tiny, desperate piece of me reached out toward her, hoping for a mother's comfort, hoping she would hold me and tell me everything was going to be fine.

Mother's hands clamped firmly onto my body.

She didn't look at my pale face. She didn't check my pulse, wipe the sweat from my brow, or look into my tear-filled eyes.

Her hands pressed hard against the tight curve of my belly, frantically feeling for movement.

"Is the baby okay?" she asked, her voice tight with panic as she stared down at my stomach. "Is he moving? Did you hurt the baby?!"

I looked up at her, my breath trembling in my throat.

The physical pain in my abdomen burned fiercely, but inside my chest, the last lingering ember of love I held for the woman who birthed me went completely cold.

The cramping subsided by morning, leaving behind an exhausting, hollow ache.

I sat upright on the edge of the mattress, my palms resting flat against my stomach. My pup gave a faint, rhythmic flutter beneath my skin, as if assuring me he had survived the night.

The heavy bolt on the outside of the door rattled.

I expected another healer with sedatives, or Victor coming to bark more orders. Instead, my mother walked into the room, followed by two household maids carrying garment bags and a vanity kit.

Mother looked me over, her gaze skimming past my pale face to assess the curve of my belly.

"Get up and bathe," she said, motioning for the maids to lay the dresses on the armchair. "Today is Celeste and Gavin's second Luna Anniversary banquet. Half the southern council and every high-ranking family in the territory are already arriving downstairs."

I stared at her, not moving an inch. "You locked me in a medical ward because you said I was unstable. Now you want me at a party?"

"Victor and I decided it would look suspicious if the eldest daughter hid in the east wing during a family milestone," Mother replied smoothly. "You need to look presentable and support your sister."

A wave of sharp clarity washed through my mind.

They didn't care about family unity. If they truly feared my defiance, they would have kept me drugged behind a locked door. Bringing me downstairs meant one thing: they wanted an audience. They needed the entire pack to see me standing beside Celeste, creating a picture of willing cooperation.

"Fine," I said quietly, getting to my feet. "I'll wear the dress."

Mother seemed surprised by how quickly I agreed, but she quickly masked it with a satisfied nod.

"Good. At least you're learning to be practical."

I let the maids style my hair into an elegant knot and help me into a floor-length emerald gown. The fabric was tailored loose around my chest but gathered tightly beneath my ribs, putting my six-month bump on full display.

When they finished, two pack guards escorted me down the grand staircase.

The estate's ballroom was bathed in warm chandelier light. Crystal glasses chimed against silver trays, and the low hum of polite conversation filled the vast hall. Dozens of Silver Crest wolves stood in small clusters, dressed in formal suits and evening gowns.

At the center of the room stood Celeste, wearing an ivory silk dress, her arm linked with her mate, Gavin. She looked radiant, greeting guests with easy charm.

When Victor spotted me by the entrance, he signaled to the crowd and stepped up to the raised platform at the head of the ballroom. He tapped the side of his crystal champagne flute with a silver spoon.

The room went completely quiet. Every face turned toward the stage.

"Thank you all for gathering tonight," Victor’s voice resonated through the microphone, deep and authoritative. "As Silver Crest's former Alpha, nothing brings me greater pride than seeing our pack thrive. Two years ago, we celebrated the union between my daughter Celeste and Gavin. Today, we celebrate something even greater for our future."

He gestured for Celeste and Gavin to join him on stage.

Celeste stepped up with practiced grace, leaning against Gavin’s shoulder while resting one hand delicately against her own flat stomach.

"The strength of Silver Crest lies in our lineage," Victor continued, his chest swelling with pride. "And tonight, I am honored to share that the next generation of our bloodline is on the way. Celeste and Gavin are expecting an Alpha heir."

A ripple of excited whispers swept through the hall before erupting into polite applause.

Victor raised a hand to quiet the crowd, his gaze shifting directly to where I stood by the edge of the room.

"This miracle was made possible by true family devotion," Victor announced, his tone dripping with false warmth. "My eldest daughter, Elara, knowing the pack's urgent need for an heir, selflessly stepped forward. Out of deep love for her sister, she volunteered to carry this child so Celeste could fulfill her dream of motherhood."

The ballroom erupted into thunderous applause.

Pack elders nodded in deep approval, while several high-ranking women dabbed at their eyes with silk handkerchiefs.

Celeste bowed her head, a single, picture-perfect tear slipping down her cheek. She reached out toward the crowd, pressing a hand over her heart as if she were the one who had spent months enduring the morning sickness, the body changes, and the pain.

She wasn't just claiming the pup. She was absorbing all the honor of the sacrifice.

Before I could take a step back, Mother’s fingers locked around my elbow like an iron vise.

"Smile," Mother hissed under her breath, pushing me forward into the open aisle. "Walk up there and do what you're supposed to do."

She dragged me toward the stage, her grip digging deep into the flesh of my arm. The crowd parted, showering me with warm smiles and approving murmurs.

"Such a noble sister," one elder remarked as I passed.

"A true credit to the Quinn family," another whispered.

Mother shoved me onto the wooden platform, right into the center of the blinding stage lights.

Victor stepped back, gesturing toward the microphone. Mother leaned into my ear, her voice a sharp, venomous thread beneath the applause.

"Thank your sister," Mother commanded quietly. "Tell them how grateful you are that Celeste and Gavin are taking this fatherless rogue pup and giving him a noble name. Say it, Elara, or you won't leave this estate alive."

Celeste turned to me, her eyes shining with triumphant malice.

Before the entire room, she stepped forward and placed both of her manicured hands firmly over the swell of my belly. She stroked the rounded curve under the bright chandelier glare, making sure every elder and council member saw the possessive gesture.

"We are going to give him the world, Elara," Celeste spoke into the microphone on her lapel, her voice trembling with manufactured emotion. "Gavin and I will raise him with so much love. And when he grows up, we will make sure he always knows how much his dear Aunt Elara sacrificed to bring him into this world."

A chorus of soft sighs echoed from the crowd.

My skin burned where her palms touched me. The suffocating weight of their lies, their theft, and their absolute entitlement snapped the last remaining tether of my restraint.

I didn't smile. I didn't bow my head.

I reached out with both hands and ripped the microphone straight out of Victor’s grip.

The metal squealed with a sudden burst of feedback, piercing through the ballroom.

The guests fell silent, startled by the harsh sound.

Celeste's smile froze. Victor's eyes widened in sudden fury, his hand darting out to grab my wrist, but I stepped back, out of his reach.

I brought the microphone to my lips.

My voice echoed through the massive hall, clear, steady, and loud enough to rattle the chandeliers.

"I am not a surrogate."

The ballroom plunged into absolute, suffocating silence. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

I looked directly into Celeste's wide, horrified eyes, then turned to face the entire assembly of pack elders.

"This is my son," I declared, my words cutting through the air like a blade. "He belongs to me and my mate. And Celeste will never be his mother."

For a second, the room remained frozen in utter shock.

Then Celeste let out a choked gasp, dropping her face into her hands as she burst into loud, theatrical tears against Gavin’s chest. Gavin glared at me in outrage, wrapping his arms around her trembling frame.

Victor’s face turned an ugly, mottled purple.

With a violent swing of his arm, he struck the microphone out of my hand. The heavy metal crashed against the hardwood stage with a deafening boom before tumbling down the steps.

"She’s suffering from prenatal hysteria!" Victor roared to the crowd, his Alpha aura flaring in a desperate attempt to maintain control. "The hormones have clouded her mind!"

He whipped around toward the perimeter of the room. "Guards! Take her back to the medical wing immediately!"

Four heavy pack enforcers rushed up the stairs, surrounding me.

They reached for my shoulders, ready to drag me away by force.

I didn't scream. I didn't flail, cry, or fight against their hands.

I stood completely straight, pulling my arms free with calm authority, and locked my gaze onto Victor.

"Touch me again," I said, my voice quiet, cold, and deadly, "and you'll regret what answers."