Aria’s POV

By the time I ended the call, the muffled sounds that had leaked from the Alpha’s office—ragged breathing, the scrape of furniture, a rhythm I wished I could forget—had finally gone quiet.

My hands felt numb as I turned away and walked back toward the council meeting room. The stone floors felt colder than usual beneath my shoes. I forced myself into a chair, spreading the reports in front of me as if work alone could anchor me. I spoke softly with my assistant, giving instructions I barely registered, all while a wave of sickness rolled through my stomach. The pup stirred uneasily inside me, as though it sensed my distress.

I had no idea how much time slipped by before the heavy office door creaked open.

Ronan emerged first, his presence filling the hallway the way an Alpha’s always did—commanding, unavoidable. Delilah followed a step behind him, her head lowered just enough to look modest.

He’d swapped into a clean suit jacket, but he hadn’t bothered changing his shirt. Near his collar, faint but unmistakable, was the ghost of a lipstick mark. My gaze lingered there despite myself, my chest tightening.

Delilah, meanwhile, had clearly taken time to fix her appearance. Her makeup was flawless again, yet the warmth coloring her cheeks betrayed what no powder could hide.

I rose, intending to leave without a word. I didn’t have the strength for this.

But Delilah drifted toward me before I could escape, her smile bright and harmless, as if we were old friends meeting by chance.

“Aria, right?” she said lightly. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Today’s my first day at the pack offices—what a funny coincidence.”

I kept my expression blank, saying nothing.

She stepped closer, both hands wrapped around a glass of steaming water. Then, just as she reached me, her foot slid forward. Her body tipped toward mine.

“Oh!” she cried.

The glass shattered loudly against the floor. I managed to dodge aside at the last second, but she crumpled dramatically against the edge of the table, clinging to it as if her strength had abandoned her.

Her voice wavered, thin and trembling. “Did I offend you somehow? Why would you push me like that?”

The performance was so transparent it almost insulted my intelligence. I stared at her in silence, too tired to argue.

But Ronan was already there.

He hurried to her side, one arm steadying her shoulders, concern written plainly across his face. “Milly, are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Then he looked at me.

The warmth vanished instantly. His brows drew together, his eyes sharpening into something cold and judgmental.

“Miss Ravenscar,” he said curtly, “you’re carrying a child. You should know better than to be wandering around like this. Being pregnant doesn’t give you the right to lay hands on new pack members.”

There was no hesitation in his tone. No pause to ask what had actually happened. He accepted her version without question, as if it were already proven fact.

“I didn’t touch her,” I said quietly, my voice barely holding together.

He scoffed. “So you’re telling me she just fell on her own?”

Each word struck like a barb, piercing deeper than the last.

The two of them stood so close, their bodies angled instinctively toward each other. I suddenly felt like an outsider intruding on a scene I was never meant to witness.

I turned away without another word, one hand flying to my mouth as I hurried toward the restroom.

The nausea finally won.

I gripped the edge of the sink and retched violently, my shoulders shaking as tears spilled down my face. My wolf whimpered inside me, distressed and restless.

Then the door slammed open behind me.

Ronan stepped inside.

He frowned slightly, lowering his voice as if we were sharing a secret. “Don’t take it the wrong way,” he said. “I was a bit harsh earlier because others were watching. I couldn’t show favoritism.”

He moved closer, reaching out as though to support me. “You shouldn’t have tripped Delilah, but I know you didn’t mean any harm. You’re emotional right now—it happens.”

I said nothing.

“Go home,” he continued gently. “Rest. Don’t overexert yourself or upset the pup. I’ll return tonight and stay with you.”

I straightened slowly, wiping my mouth. When I met his eyes again, I forced my lips into a faint smile.

“Very well, Alpha Blackcliff,” I replied calmly.

His hand stopped midair.

I had never addressed him like that before.

I was always the one clinging to him, calling him Ronan, calling him my mate, my future husband. I used to hate formal titles between us. They felt like walls.

For a brief moment, uncertainty flickered across his face.

Then the sharp click of heels echoed outside the door. Another pack member entered the restroom.

Ronan reacted instantly.

He dropped his hand and stepped back as if burned, his expression icing over. “Miss Ravenscar,” he said loudly, “this is a place of work. Please behave appropriately. Whatever affection you show your mate should stay at home—not here.”

Your mate.

Behave appropriately.

The words washed over me like freezing rain.

Without sparing me another glance, he turned and left, his retreat swift and decisive, as though he needed everyone to see the boundary he’d just drawn between us.

I remained there, one hand resting instinctively over my stomach, shielding the life inside me.

For a long while, I stood completely still.

Even my tears had run dry.

Aria’s POV

Ronan never once acknowledged my existence in front of others.

For three full years, I was his mate in private and no one in public. To the pack—and the business world tied to it—he remained unattached: polished, confident, the kind of Alpha everyone assumed was still waiting for “the right she-wolf.” I was never that she-wolf in their eyes.

I never pressed him for an explanation.

Not once.

Back then, I told myself that being by his side was already more than enough. I was happy simply belonging to him, even if only behind closed doors.

I’d loved him long before that—back when we were still students. I could trace it to a single moment: the day a jealous bully hurled a kettle of boiling water at me, and Ronan lunged forward without hesitation, taking the splash meant for my face. I still remembered the scent of scorched fabric and the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

Ten years had passed since then.

And somehow, my feelings hadn’t dulled. Not even a little.

Three years ago, after Ronan and Delilah severed their bond, he drank himself into oblivion. The Alpha who never showed weakness staggered through a bar thick with smoke and noise, drowning himself in liquor and regret. I followed him there, choking on the scent of alcohol and cigarettes, and stayed with him when everyone else left.

In the blur of that night, with his eyes unfocused and his words slurred, he asked me if I wanted to try being together.

I knew what it was.

A rebound.

A way to spite the she-wolf who walked away from him.

I knew he didn’t love me.

And still… I agreed.

I told myself a lie that felt comforting at the time: If I love him enough, if I stay gentle and patient, one day he’ll look at me the way I look at him.

Now, thinking back, I almost wanted to laugh at how foolish I’d been.

That night, I sat alone at home, watching the hours crawl by. Midnight passed. Then another. The house remained silent.

Only after the moon dipped lower did my phone finally buzz.

Love, I’ve got a dinner engagement tonight. I’ll be back late. Don’t wait up—get some sleep.

But I had already seen the truth.

Delilah’s social feed glowed on my screen—an image of her laughing brightly as a man carried her on his back. His broad shoulders were unmistakable, even blurred.

Her caption pierced straight through me:

Still the most perfect future mate. I can’t stop crying… should I accept his proposal?

Dinner engagement?

I nearly crushed the phone in my hand.

So he had proposed to her. Not with vague promises or half-spoken plans, but with something real—something meant to last. The kind of vow a wolf makes only when he’s chosen his Luna.

I stared at that photo until my vision blurred. It felt painfully familiar, like being seventeen again—standing on the sidelines while their love unfolded in front of everyone else.

A sudden cramp twisted low in my abdomen. Instinctively, I shut the phone off and pressed a hand to my stomach.

I’m leaving anyway, I thought dully. Why torture myself?

I rose and began to pack.

The matching toothbrushes went into the trash. The mugs I’d chosen for us. The throw pillows that once made our home feel warm and shared—every trace of “us” disappeared into black bags.

Just as I tied one shut, the front door opened.

Ronan stepped inside.

He glanced at the mess, then at me. “Didn’t you like those things?” he asked casually. “Why throw them away?”

I kept my gaze lowered, my fingers numb, my tone deliberately light.

“They’re worn out. I got sick of them.”

A part of me waited—hoped—he’d notice something was wrong. That he’d ask again.

He didn’t.

Instead, he crossed the room like nothing was out of place, rested his palm over my belly, and spoke softly to the pup inside. “Behave today, hm? Your father’s back.”

He looked every bit the devoted Alpha and future sire. Once upon a time, that sight would’ve shattered me.

I used to think that if he cared so deeply for our child, then surely—somewhere—he cared for me too. Maybe he just didn’t know how to say it.

Now I understood.

He loved the pup.

Not me.

“Still upset about earlier?” he asked gently. “You shouldn’t be. I didn’t tell you about Milly joining the company because it didn’t matter. She’s between jobs—I’m just lending a hand. It’s temporary. She’ll be gone soon.”

He paused, noticing I hadn’t reached for his coat like I usually did. That was when he realized I was angry.

His voice softened, coaxing. “You’re jealous, aren’t you? There’s no reason to be. She’s my past. I don’t feel anything for her anymore. You’re the one I’m with now.”

I almost laughed.

Instead, I stood frozen as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my cheek—far more tender than usual.

If I hadn’t seen you with her, I thought bitterly. If I hadn’t heard what you said… I might have believed you.

But now, every gentle word, every affectionate touch, felt rehearsed.

Not love.

Just control.

Aria’s POV

The following morning, my assistant quietly informed me that the procedure had been arranged.

“Ma’am,” she hesitated, lowering her voice, “are you truly not going to inform the Alpha? The pup is already… this far along.”

“There’s no reason to,” I replied calmly.

My palm rested over the slight curve of my abdomen. The little life inside me, once restless and strong, had grown unnervingly still—as if it sensed my resolve, or perhaps my sorrow. The silence within me felt heavier than any movement ever had.

If I was honest with myself, until just yesterday, I’d still been trapped in a fragile fantasy—believing I was content, believing this life was enough.

Ronan had always been careful. Too careful. If he wanted to continue seeing Delilah behind my back, he easily could have. With his position, his authority as Alpha, and his talent for deception, I might never have uncovered the truth.

But he’d grown careless.

Maybe the pregnancy had progressed too far. Maybe he assumed that even if I discovered everything, I’d stay. After all, what pregnant she-wolf would dare walk away from an Alpha?

He misjudged me.

I had waited a decade for his affection—since I was sixteen years old. I endured years of silent longing, endured becoming his hidden mate, endured carrying his child while being kept in the dark. I knew how to wait.

What I could not endure was being reduced to a tool—used to bear his heir, only to be discarded once my purpose was fulfilled and replaced by another woman.

On my way to the hospital, I stopped by the commercial complex next door, hoping to eat something light. My appetite was poor, but I knew I needed the strength.

That was when a voice I knew far too well reached my ears.

“This area deserves closer attention. Local luxury brands are expanding faster than expected.”

My steps faltered.

I turned my head—and there he was.

Ronan stood only a few aisles away, tall and composed as ever. At his side was Delilah. Both were dressed impeccably, radiating the polished air of a formal inspection. They looked like a perfect pair—Alpha and Luna-in-waiting.

My chest tightened painfully. I was just about to turn away when I heard a light, artificial laugh.

“Well, isn’t this unexpected? Miss Ravenscar—what a coincidence!”

Delilah approached in graceful strides, the click of her heels sharp against the floor. Her smile was professional, flawless, and utterly false.

Before I could respond, the mall’s general manager rushed over, beaming. “Alpha Blackcliff, Mrs. Blackcliff—right this way, please. We’ve prepared a new section just for you to review.”

Delilah laughed softly. “Please, call me Delilah. Let’s keep business and personal matters separate.”

As she spoke, her eyes flicked toward me—quick, deliberate.

My fingers curled into fists.

So this was how it was. The man who had hidden me for years couldn’t even wait for our child to be born before publicly parading his former mate as his future Luna—introducing her to partners, no less.

She turned back to me with a conspiratorial smile. “Miss Ravenscar, you won’t mention this to anyone, will you? No one in the company knows yet. We’d like to wait until after the mating ceremony to make it official.”

She said it lightly, as if sharing a harmless secret. As if she didn’t know exactly who I was.

Ronan’s expression tightened. Guilt flickered briefly in his eyes—followed by that familiar, silent warning. Don’t cause trouble.

My heart twisted, but I still forced a polite smile.

“Of course,” I said evenly. “I won’t say a word.”

Because once the procedure was done, I would be gone. Whatever they planned together would no longer concern me.

“I knew you’d understand,” Delilah said brightly. “But tell me—why are you here alone? Where’s your mate?”

There was a sharp triumph in her gaze as she looped her arm through mine, pretending familiarity.

“All this talk about numbers makes me uneasy,” she continued sweetly. “It’s all males. Will you stay with me for a bit?”

I gently pulled my arm free, refusing to look at Ronan.

“I don’t have a mate,” I replied.

For a split second, his expression darkened—but it vanished just as quickly. When he spoke, his tone was brisk, impersonal.

“Since you’re already here, guide Delilah around. She’s still getting familiar with things.”

Without waiting for my response, he turned and left with the manager.

I frowned and tried again to free myself, but Delilah leaned closer, her smile gone, her voice dropping to a whisper sharp as a blade.

“I know what you are to him,” she said quietly. “But let’s be honest—you’re nothing more than a vessel. Ronan belongs to me. Once that pup is born, the Luna who stands beside him will be me.”

Cold spread through my veins.

“Let go,” I said.

I pushed her lightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to create distance.

She screamed.

In the next instant, she staggered sideways and crashed into a she-wolf passing by with a baby in her arms. Both mother and child fell hard to the floor.

The infant’s cry rang out, shrill and terrified.

The woman scrambled up, rage flashing across her face as she pointed at me. “Are you out of your mind?! You’re pregnant—how could you shove someone like that?! Are you trying to get someone killed?!”

I stepped forward instinctively. “No, it wasn’t—”

Delilah cut in before I could finish. Tears streamed down her face as she bowed repeatedly, her voice shaking.

“I’m so sorry—this is my fault! Please don’t blame her. The vice president didn’t mean to do anything! It was me—I lost my balance. Please, I’m begging you…”

Her performance was flawless.

And in that moment, I understood exactly how alone I truly was.