The healer came before breakfast.

Her name was Celia, and she had pressed her palm to my belly two months ago. Now she pressed it to Briony's.

Briony lay on our bed. On my side of it.

"Well?" Blaine stood at the footboard, arms crossed.

Celia leaned close and breathed in at Briony's throat. Her brows lifted.

"There's a change in her scent, Alpha. Sweeter. Heavier." She touched Briony's breast through the borrowed silk, and Briony winced. "Tender here. Swollen. It's early, but the signs are there."

"Early," I said from the doorway. "How early?"

Celia didn't look at me. "Too early to say much more, Luna."

"She's not your Luna much longer," Briony murmured.

Blaine didn't correct her.

He turned to the hallway and raised his voice. "Tomas! Get two men. Clear out the nursery."

My stomach dropped. "What?"

"The crib, the curtains, the blankets. All of it." He finally glanced at me. "Take everything to Briony's room."

"I painted those walls." My voice came out smaller than I wanted. "I sewed those curtains, Blaine."

"And now they'll be used for an heir."

"This is your heir!" I grabbed my own belly with both hands. "You knelt on that floor and kissed it!"

He stepped close. He smelled like her now. Like lavender soap and sleep.

"I kissed what I thought was my only chance," he said quietly. "I have a better one."

Down the hall, wood cracked. Someone was taking the crib apart.

I didn't go watch. I didn't trust my legs.

The bells rang at sunset.

Every wolf in Alderfen knew what that meant. The Alpha was calling the pack.

By the time I reached the great hall, it was packed wall to wall. Torches hissed. Two hundred faces turned toward me, then away.

Blaine stood on the dais. Briony stood at his side, wearing my blue dress again.

"Wolves of Alderfen." His voice rolled over the room. "Tonight, I bring you joy. And I bring you shame."

He held out his hand. Briony took it.

"This female carries my pup. My true blood. The healer confirmed it this morning."

A murmur swept the hall. Someone whistled. Someone cheered.

Then Blaine lifted his other hand and pointed straight at me.

At my belly.

"And that," he said, "belongs to my brother."

The silence was worse than the noise.

"Blaine." I pushed forward through the crowd. "Tell them the truth. Tell them about the healers, about the paper you showed me—"

"The truth?" He cut across me so fast my words died. "The truth is my mate crept down the east wing every month. The truth is she seduced Eamon under my own roof while I slept."

"You sent me!"

"Listen to her." He spread his arms to the crowd. "Caught, and she still blames me."

"Ask him!" I spun toward the nearest faces. Old Hester, who taught me to weave. Garrick, who carried me over the threshold on my wedding day. "Ask him why there are dots on the kitchen calendar! Ask him who picked the dates!"

Hester's mouth pinched. She looked down.

Garrick shook his head slowly. "Luna. Have some dignity."

Nobody else had been in that study. Nobody else had heard Blaine cry in my lap. There were only three of us.

And two of us were standing on the dais.

Briony tilted her head and smiled at me, almost sweet.

"Poor thing," she said. "You're carrying your lover's bastard, and you still want the crown? Did you think we'd bow to it?"

A few wolves laughed. Not many. Enough.

Blaine let go of her hand and stepped to the edge of the dais.

"I, Blaine Vale, Alpha of the Alderfen Pack—"

"No." I knew the words. Every wolf knew the words. "Blaine, no. Please."

"—reject you, Odette—"

The mark on my neck split open.

It felt like teeth. His teeth, sinking in again, then tearing out. I hit the floor on both knees. Warmth poured down my collarbone.

"Stop," I gasped. "Please. Please stop. The baby—"

Then a cramp clenched low in my belly, sharp and twisting. I folded over it. Something wet slid down the inside of my thigh.

I looked down.

Red, spreading across the hem of my nightgown.

"Blaine." I raised my eyes to him. "Look."

He looked.

For one second, his face changed. His mouth opened. One foot shifted toward the steps.

Briony's fingers slipped into his. She squeezed.

He closed his mouth.

"—as my mate and my Luna."

The bond snapped like a bowstring.

I didn't scream. I just stopped hearing anything.

The doors slammed open.

I knew his scent before I saw him. Pine and cold rock and wind off the ridge.

"Move." Eamon's voice tore through the hall. Wolves stumbled out of his way.

He dropped beside me. His hands hovered, then slid under my knees and back.

"Odette. Look at me. Stay with me."

"Eamon—" I clutched his shirt. "The baby."

He bowed his head to my belly. He went very still, listening.

"There's a heartbeat," he said hoarsely. "It's weak. But it's there."

He lifted me against his chest.

"Put her down, brother." Blaine's Alpha command cracked across the room.

Eamon's shoulders shook with the force of it. Every wolf in the hall bent their necks.

Eamon straightened his.

"No."

The word rang off the rafters. Nobody had ever said it to Blaine. Not once.

He turned his back on the dais and carried me out.

I cried into his collar the whole way across the courtyard.

"He's been sleeping with Briony. For weeks. She's pregnant, he says it's his, he told them the healers were wrong—" My words tumbled over each other. "He told them I seduced you. He told them I went to you. Eamon, they believed him. All of them."

His arms tightened. His jaw was rigid against my temple.

"I know what he is," he said. "I've always known."

"Then why did you ever say yes?"

He didn't answer. He only walked faster.

Behind us, the bells began to ring again. Fast. Frantic.

Then Blaine's voice boomed from the hall steps.

"Eamon Vale and Odette have plotted against this pack! They meant to steal my seat with a bastard heir! Hunters, bring them back." A pause. "If they fight, kill them."

Eamon broke into a run.

The forest swallowed us. Branches whipped my face. My blood left a trail he couldn't hide, and we both knew it.

"They're close," he panted. "Hold on to me."

A hiss split the air.

Something brushed my ear, hot and stinging. An arrow buried itself in the oak ahead, its shaft glittering.

Silver dust.

"Eamon—"

The second arrow struck him.

It punched into his shoulder with a wet thud. He staggered. His knees buckled.

And as we fell, I heard the hunters laughing in the dark.