Genevieve’s POV

Kael picked up before the second ring had fully faded.

“Genevieve.” His voice flowed through the line—controlled, refined, and edged with something glacial. “I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

Even separated by distance, his presence felt tangible. Kael Virelli did not waste words, and when he spoke, even seasoned Alphas measured their replies carefully.

I forced myself to breathe evenly. “I need Nikolai brought down,” I said. “And I can’t accomplish that on my own.”

A deliberate silence followed. It wasn’t hesitation. It was calculation. Then a low, knowing laugh drifted through the speaker, dark and faintly amused.

“I was curious how long it would take you to reach this point,” he said softly. “Start from the beginning.”

So I did.

I told him about the messages arriving at my father’s burial site, about the images of Sabrina in the Alpha suite, about Nikolai installing her in my place without hesitation. I described the threats, the warning about my father’s wolf sanctuary if I dared to leave. This time, I did not cry. My tone remained steady, almost detached, as though I were recounting the downfall of a stranger instead of my own humiliation.

Kael never interrupted.

When I finished, he asked only one question. “How soon do you want him beneath the dirt?”

“Yesterday,” I answered without pause.

A genuine chuckle escaped him. “I appreciate decisiveness. He won’t anticipate this.”

For the first time since the funeral, something other than grief stirred inside me. It felt fragile, unfamiliar—hope, perhaps.

“I’ll begin shifting loyalties tonight,” he continued. “When the moment comes, you’ll know.”

His voice altered slightly then, losing its faint amusement and settling into something firmer.

“There is one condition.”

I closed my eyes briefly. Nothing in Kael’s world came freely. “Name it.”

“Become my mate.”

The words were not raised. They didn’t need to be.

They settled heavily between us.

I couldn’t form a response.

—

Sleep avoided me entirely that night. I lay awake in the guest chamber, staring at the ceiling while Kael’s proposal replayed over and over in my thoughts. He hadn’t pressed for an immediate answer. He had simply told me to consider it carefully and contact him when I was certain. Once I agreed, he promised he would come for me himself.

Protection. Authority. Retribution.

But binding myself to Kael Virelli meant more than revenge. It meant stepping into the true heart of the pack’s power structure—the shadowed realm Nikolai navigated cautiously.

What would I gain?

What would I sacrifice?

By dawn, I had no clarity, only exhaustion clinging to my bones.

And then everything changed.

I stood alone in the bathroom, staring at the small white test resting in my shaking hands. Two unmistakable lines.

Positive.

For several seconds, I felt nothing at all. Then a fragile, broken laugh escaped me as tears blurred my vision.

Pregnant.

After years of hushed consultations, after enduring the word barren whispered like a curse, after watching disappointment flicker across Nikolai’s face month after month—I was carrying life.

And the timing was cruel.

Nikolai had already revealed exactly who he was.

I pressed the medical report to my chest, my pulse racing painfully. If he discovered this, he would never release me. The child would become leverage, legacy, possession.

My phone vibrated.

A message from Kael.

Everything is prepared. Three days. Decide.

Three days.

I stared at the screen as my thoughts spiraled. I could not raise a pup inside walls filled with deceit and calculated cruelty. Growing beneath Nikolai’s shadow would mean manipulation, expectation, and the constant weight of dominance politics.

What kind of mother would knowingly choose that path?

My vision blurred as I dialed the hospital.

“Preston Medical Center, how may I assist you?” the receptionist asked pleasantly.

My throat tightened, but I forced the words out. “I need to arrange a termination.”

There was no change in her tone. “We have availability tomorrow morning. Does that suit you?”

The sooner it ended, the cleaner it would be.

“Yes,” I whispered.

After the call ended, a hollow ache settled deep inside me. I was about to erase the one blessing I had begged the Moon Goddess for.

My thoughts drifted backward, to six years earlier.

Nikolai had been furious over a failed alliance negotiation. He had paced our penthouse relentlessly, whiskey in hand, his wolf close to the surface. I had pleaded with him to let the driver take us home. He refused, insisting control was his to maintain.

I still remembered the sudden glare of headlights. The scream of twisting metal. The copper taste of blood flooding my mouth before darkness swallowed me whole.

When I woke in a hospital bed two days later, a healer explained gently that the internal damage had been extensive. Conceiving naturally would be unlikely.

I had wept until my body trembled. Nikolai had remained at my side then, brushing my hair back, murmuring apologies, promising he would never abandon me, swearing we would find another way.

He had looked at me as though I were irreplaceable.

I had believed him.

Love had made me blind.

“Well, this is an unfortunate picture.”

Sabrina’s voice pulled me sharply back to the present.

I stiffened. “I’m not in the mood.”

She entered the living room with deliberate grace, one hand resting theatrically against her stomach.

“You look drained,” she observed lightly. “Is being Luna exhausting?”

I gripped the edge of the table to steady myself. “What do you want?”

She offered a careless shrug. “Can’t I check on my sister?”

“Not after sharing my mate’s bed.”

A soft, taunting laugh left her lips. “Nikolai was restless. You were always so composed. He wanted something… spirited.”

Anger coursed through me, but I refused to give her the reaction she craved.

“You should have seen him,” she added sweetly. “He was insatiable.”

When I didn’t respond, a flicker of irritation crossed her face.

The distant sound of an engine signaled Nikolai’s return.

I rose immediately.

“Not staying to welcome him?” Sabrina asked.

I walked past her without answering and retreated to the guest room, locking the door. My limbs felt heavy, my chest tight with suppressed emotion. Three days, I reminded myself. Three days and I would no longer be trapped here.

I had just closed my eyes when the door burst inward with violent force.

Nikolai entered, fury radiating from him like heat before a storm.

“What is your problem?” I demanded, startled by the aggression in his posture.

He didn’t answer.

His hand struck my face with brutal force, snapping my head sideways as white light exploded across my vision.

Silence swallowed the room, broken only by the sharp ringing in my ears.

Genevieve's POV

His strike sent me reeling sideways.

My head jerked sharply, and before I could process what had happened, the room spun violently out of balance. I crashed against the marble floor with enough force to drive the air from my lungs. A broken sound escaped me—half gasp, half cry—more from shock than pain. For a moment, everything dissolved into darkness.

When my vision cleared, heat radiated across my cheek in a fierce, pulsing ache. I remained sprawled on the cold stone floor of the guest chamber, stunned and disoriented, my wolf restless beneath my skin.

Nikolai had hit me.

In all the years we had been bound—through pack disputes, territorial challenges, and bloody confrontations with rival Alphas—he had never once raised his hand against me. Not even at the height of his fury.

My thoughts scrambled uselessly, searching for some explanation. Had I provoked him? Said something unforgivable? Nothing justified this.

I blinked hard against the dizziness and slowly pushed myself upright. My palms shook against the polished marble as I steadied myself. When my focus sharpened, I saw Sabrina standing several paces behind him.

Her arms were wrapped loosely around herself, tears streaking down her face. She appeared small. Delicate.

Believable.

“What is going on?” I asked, my voice rough from the impact.

Nikolai towered over me, his chest rising and falling with restrained rage. “You put your hands on her?” he demanded. “On a she-wolf carrying my pup?”

The accusation made no sense. “What are you talking about?”

“She came here out of concern,” he continued, his tone sharpening. “And you attacked her? Have you completely lost control?”

For several seconds, I could only stare at him.

Sabrina stepped forward hesitantly, her shoulders trembling as though she were barely holding herself together. “I only wanted to bring her tea,” she murmured. “She looked so distressed, and I thought maybe we could talk. But she started shouting. She said I destroyed her life.” Her voice cracked convincingly. “Then she struck me.”

Disbelief flooded through me.

“She told me I should be dead,” Sabrina added in a hushed tone, lowering her gaze. “I didn’t want to upset you, Nikolai, but she frightened me.”

The audacity of the lie stole the air from my lungs.

“You’re fabricating this,” I said quietly, still seated on the floor. “I never touched you.”

Her lower lip trembled, and she turned her face away as though wounded by my denial.

Nikolai didn’t hesitate.

“Get up,” he growled. “And remove yourself from my sight before I forget you’re Luna of this pack.”

I lifted my gaze to his, my cheek burning, my lip throbbing. “You truly believe her?” I asked. “You think I would harm her?”

For a flicker of a second, something uncertain crossed his eyes. Doubt. Then it hardened into cold resolve.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he said flatly. “Jealousy has corrupted your judgment.”

A hollow sound slipped from me. “Jealous? Of what, exactly?”

The taste of copper filled my mouth. When I wiped at my lip, my fingers came away stained with blood.

His eyes dropped briefly to it. His jaw tightened, and for an instant he looked almost conflicted. He stepped forward.

“Genevieve—”

“Nikolai,” Sabrina interrupted faintly, pressing her hand to her temple. “I feel lightheaded. She hit me harder than I realized.”

His focus shifted immediately.

Without hesitation, he turned away from me and gathered her into his arms, supporting her as though she might shatter. She leaned against him, fragile and trembling.

I watched in silence.

Over his shoulder, she glanced at me.

The tears were gone.

Only triumph remained.

Three days, I reminded myself.

Three days, and I would never have to endure this house again.

—

At dawn the next morning, I slipped out before the household stirred.

The drive to the clinic felt surreal, as though I were observing someone else’s life from a distance. My chest tightened in the waiting room while the seconds dragged mercilessly. I fixed my gaze on the far wall, unwilling to think too deeply.

My hand drifted to my abdomen without conscious thought.

It was still flat, unchanged, revealing nothing of the life quietly growing inside me. But I knew.

A pup.

After years of believing my body incapable, after enduring whispers that I was defective, unworthy of carrying an Alpha’s heir, life had taken root within me.

Tears threatened again, but I forced them back. This wasn’t about longing. It was about survival.

A nurse called my name.

I rose slowly, my legs heavier than they should have been, and followed her into a consultation room. The doctor scanned my file before turning toward me.

Recognition dawned instantly in his expression.

“Mrs. Virelli?” he said, clearly startled.

He had stood at my bedside six years ago after the accident, explaining with rehearsed sympathy that my injuries made future pregnancy unlikely.

I managed a faint, strained smile.

He glanced between me and the chart. “Are you certain about this decision?”

My throat constricted, words refusing to form.

He set the file aside and stepped closer, his tone gentle but steady. “You need to understand how rare this is. Given the trauma you sustained, this pregnancy is remarkable.”

I closed my eyes briefly.

“If you proceed with termination,” he continued carefully, “there is a significant chance you will never conceive again. Even with medical assistance. This may be your only opportunity.”

The weight of his statement settled heavily over me.

Only opportunity.

I saw Nikolai’s hand striking my face. Sabrina draped in my robe. Kael waiting for my answer.

My world had already shattered.

Now I had to decide which fragments were worth saving.

Genevieve’s POV

His warning lingered in my ears long after he stopped speaking.

For several seconds, I couldn’t seem to draw a full breath. The doctor’s words—a miracle… perhaps your only chance—collided violently with the chaos of the past few days. My pulse pounded so fiercely it almost hurt.

My hand drifted to my abdomen again without thinking.

I remembered the countless nights I had lain awake inside the Alpha estate, staring into the darkness while Nikolai slept beside me as though nothing in the world troubled him. I remembered the quiet humiliation of pack gatherings, when other Luna’s would announce their pregnancies beneath glittering chandeliers while congratulations echoed around the hall. I would always excuse myself before my composure fractured, hiding in empty corridors until the ache in my chest dulled.

I remembered praying silently to the Moon Goddess for something—anything—that would fill the hollow space inside me.

And now, that answer was here.

And I had nearly chosen to destroy it because of a male who had already erased me from his life.

The realization broke whatever restraint I had been clinging to. Tears spilled over as I covered my mouth, my shoulders shaking. The thought of willingly ending the only life that had chosen me felt unbearable.

“No,” I whispered hoarsely, shaking my head. “I can’t do it.”

The doctor studied me carefully. “You’ve reconsidered?”

“I’m keeping this pup,” I said, my voice trembling but firm. “Even if I have to raise it alone. This isn’t a mistake. It’s the only blessing I’ve ever been given.”

A faint warmth touched his expression. “Then we’ll proceed carefully. Given your medical history, we’ll monitor you closely. You’ll need to be cautious.”

When I stepped out of the hospital later, the air felt different—lighter somehow. For the first time in days, something steadier than grief settled in my chest.

In three days, I would leave.

And this time, I would not be alone.

“Genevieve!”

My name cut sharply through the air, freezing me mid-step.

Nikolai.

I turned slowly, tension tightening every muscle. He crossed the hospital entrance in long, urgent strides and seized my arm before I could speak, his fingers gripping hard enough to bruise.

“Thank the Goddess I found you,” he said, breath uneven, eyes alert in a way that told me this wasn’t about reconciliation.

I pulled slightly against his hold. “What’s happened?”

“It’s Sabrina,” he answered quickly. “She’s been admitted.”

I frowned. “Admitted for what?”

“She spiked a fever during the night,” he said, his tone sharpening. “After the stress you put her under.”

My jaw clenched. “I never laid a hand on her.”

He ignored that entirely. “She collapsed this morning. The physicians say she’s weak and dehydrated. They need to transfuse blood.”

A cold sensation crept through me. “And?”

Nikolai’s gaze locked onto mine. “Her blood type is rare. You’re a universal donor. You’re the only immediate match available.”

For a moment, I simply stared at him.

“You expect me to give her my blood?” I asked quietly.

“This isn’t about your wounded pride,” he snapped. “It’s about protecting my heir.”

He began pulling me toward the entrance.

I dug my heels into the pavement. “You command half the hospitals in this city. You have access to private reserves and blood banks. Why me?”

He turned sharply, his eyes hard as stone. “Because this situation is your fault.”

The accusation stunned me. “She lied to you!”

“I don’t have time for your delusions,” he cut in coldly. “She carries my pup. If anything happens to her—”

Something inside me snapped.

“I’m pregnant,” I said.

The words escaped before I could reconsider them.

He went completely still.

“What did you say?”

“I’m pregnant,” I repeated, louder now, my voice shaking despite my effort to remain steady. “The doctor confirmed it. It’s high risk. If I donate blood, it could jeopardize the pregnancy.”

Silence stretched between us.

Then he laughed.

It wasn’t disbelief.

It was disdain.

“You expect me to accept that?” he said slowly, shaking his head. “You think fabricating a pregnancy will excuse you from responsibility?”

“I’m not lying,” I whispered, tears threatening again. “You remember what the healers told us after the accident. They said it was nearly impossible. This is a miracle.”

His expression only hardened. “You’ve always wanted leverage. Now you believe this makes you untouchable.”

“Nikolai—”

“Enough.” His voice dropped, final and absolute. “You will donate. That is not negotiable.”

Anger surged through me, stronger than fear this time. I pulled my arm free.

“No,” I said, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I won’t risk my child for her.”

His face darkened dangerously.

“You would let her die because of jealousy?”

“I won’t sacrifice my pup,” I answered steadily. “Not for Sabrina. Not for you.”

The fury in his eyes burned hotter.

“If you walk away from this,” he said slowly, jaw clenched tight, “I will dismantle that sanctuary your father built. Stone by stone. And I’ll make sure you’re there to witness it.”

The threat struck exactly where he intended.

The sanctuary was the last untouched piece of my father’s legacy—the only place in this territory not stained by pack politics or blood.

And Nikolai knew it.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to something lethal. “Choose wisely, Genevieve.”

In that moment, clarity settled over me.

I was no longer afraid of losing him.

I was afraid of what I would become if I stayed.