"Blood!" a duke shouted over the royal string quartet.

The music screeched to a halt.

I turned just in time to see Ivy crumple.

"Ivy!" Ethan’s voice tore through the grand hall. Raw. Frantic.

He caught her before she hit the marble floor.

I froze. My champagne glass slipped from my fingers and shattered. No one looked at me. Every eye in the royal court fixed on the Alpha heir and the frail she-wolf bleeding in his arms.

"Get a healer!" Ethan roared. He pressed his hands against Ivy’s neck.

Dark, unnatural veins pulsed beneath her pale skin. Her bloodline was rejecting her. Everyone knew Ivy was born weak, but no one expected a total collapse at the royal full moon celebration.

"Ethan," she whispered. Her voice sounded like dry leaves crushing together. "Take care... of him."

"No, don't speak. You're going to be fine," Ethan insisted. His hands trembled violently.

I took a step forward. "Ethan, we need to move her to the—"

"Stay back!" he snapped. He glared at me with wild, bloodshot eyes.

I flinched. I was his mate. His wife. But in his eyes, I was an intruder.

Ivy’s hand went limp. Her chest stopped moving.

"Ivy?" Ethan shook her shoulders. "Ivy, open your eyes!"

Silence swallowed the room.

Ethan buried his face in her neck. He let out a howl of pure agony that rattled the crystal chandeliers above us.

I stood there, surrounded by the elite of the kingdom, feeling completely invisible.

***

The funeral wrapped up three days later. Black silk, gray skies, and a terrifying silence from my husband.

I sat on the edge of our massive bed. I stared at the small plastic stick in my palm.

Two pink lines.

"A baby," I murmured. My thumb traced the result.

My wolf purred in my mind. A pup. Our pup.

Ethan and I had drifted apart for months. Ivy’s constant need for his attention drove a wedge between us. But now, maybe this child could bridge the gap. Maybe he would finally look at me the way he used to.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway. Fast. Urgent.

I shoved the test into my pocket and stood up.

The heavy oak door swung open. Ethan stood in the frame. His black suit was soaked from the rain.

He wasn't alone.

He held a small, squirming bundle of blankets against his chest.

"Ethan?" I asked. My gaze dropped to the bundle. "What is that?"

"He," Ethan corrected. His voice sounded like a hollow rasp. "His name is Orion."

He walked past me, ignoring my outstretched hand. He laid the baby on our bed.

The infant let out a weak, raspy cry. He looked tiny. Fragile. His skin showed a faint blue tint around the lips.

"Whose child is this?" I asked. A cold knot formed in my stomach.

"Ivy’s," Ethan replied. He didn't look at me.

The word struck me like a physical blow.

"Ivy had a baby?" I took a step back. "With who? When?"

"It doesn't matter," Ethan said. He turned to face me. His expression was completely shut down. "He was born premature. He has her weak constitution."

"I don't understand. Why is he here? In our bedroom?"

"Because you are going to raise him."

I stared at my husband. I waited for the punchline. There was none.

"Excuse me?" I asked. My voice rose.

"You heard me, Serena. Ivy is gone. This is the only piece of her left in the world."

"And you brought him to me?" I laughed. The sound was sharp and bitter, scraping my throat. "I'm your wife, Ethan. Not your dead friend's nanny."

His jaw hardened. "Watch your mouth. She was a dear friend."

"She was a parasite who stole my mate!" I yelled. The pent-up anger of the last two years finally boiled over.

Ethan crossed the room in two strides. He grabbed my upper arm. His grip bruised my skin instantly.

"Never speak of her that way again," he warned. His tone was deadly quiet. "She died in my arms."

"And I'm standing right in front of you!" I jerked my arm free. "You brought her bastard into our home and demand I play mother?"

"He is not a bastard. He is royal blood," Ethan countered.

"Royal blood?" I scoffed. "From where? Ivy was from a minor, exiled pack. Unless..." I stopped. A horrible thought crept into my mind. "Who is the father, Ethan?"

"That is none of your concern."

"It is my concern if you expect me to mother him!" I stepped into his space, refusing to back down. "Tell me who sired this child."

"I said drop it, Serena."

"Was it you?" The question hung in the air, toxic and heavy.

Ethan's eyes flashed with pure rage. "Do not push me tonight. My patience is gone."

"Answer the question!"

"No! It wasn't me!" he roared. The sheer volume forced me to step back. "But he is her legacy. And I swore on her dying breath that he would be safe."

"Then let the royal wet nurses take him. I have my

"Then let the royal wet nurses take him. I have my own child to worry about!" The words ripped from my throat before I could stop them.

Ethan froze. The heavy anger radiating from his body vanished, replaced by a chilling stillness. "What did you just say?"

I reached into my pocket, pulled out the plastic stick, and slammed it onto the mahogany dresser. "I'm pregnant. We are having a pup."

He didn't look at the test. His eyes dropped to my flat stomach. A muscle in his jaw twitched once, then smoothed out.

Before he could speak, the infant on the bed let out a terrible, gurgling shriek. Orion’s tiny limbs went completely rigid. His skin flushed an angry, bruised purple.

"Thorne!" Ethan bellowed toward the open hallway.

An older wolf with a graying beard rushed into our bedroom, clutching a heavy medical bag. The royal physician shoved past me and placed a glowing palm over the infant's chest.

"Alpha," Thorne muttered, his tone grim. "His bloodline is collapsing. The congenital defect is tearing his organs apart. His heart is failing."

"Fix him," Ethan ordered.

"I cannot." Thorne pulled a silver syringe from his bag, injecting a clear fluid into the baby’s arm. "This will only buy him an hour. The only thing that can stabilize a fractured royal bloodline is a direct infusion of origin power."

Ethan frowned. "Then take my blood."

"Your Alpha blood is too aggressive. It would burn through his veins," Thorne explained. He hesitated, cutting his eyes toward me. "He requires a pure, nurturing source. Specifically, the enriched origin blood of a pregnant Luna."

Silence slammed into the room.

Ethan slowly turned his head. His gaze locked onto me.

"No," I whispered. I took a step back, my spine hitting the cold wall.

"Serena," Ethan started.

"Are you insane?" I pointed at the doctor. "Tell him, Thorne! Tell him what drawing that much origin power will do to a first-trimester pregnancy!"

Thorne lowered his head, refusing to meet my eyes. "It is extremely taxing. The Luna's body would prioritize the injured infant. The unborn pup... might be starved of life force."

"Might?" I shouted. "It will kill my baby!"

"Your pup is strong," Ethan argued. He closed the distance between us, his massive frame blocking out the light from the hallway. "Our bloodline is ancient. It will survive the strain."

"My baby is barely a cluster of cells!" I shoved his chest, but he didn't budge an inch. "I will not drain my child's life force to fix her broken mistake."

Ethan caught my wrists. His fingers clamped down like iron cuffs. "Do not call him a mistake. Orion is dying right now."

"And you want to murder your own flesh and blood to save him?"

"I am asking you to save an innocent life."

"You aren't asking!" I yanked my hands free. "You're demanding a sacrifice. I won't do it. I am the Luna of this pack, and I forbid anyone from touching my veins."

Ethan’s expression hardened into something unrecognizable. The man who had courted me, who had promised to protect me, vanished entirely. Only a ruthless Alpha remained.

"You will do this, Serena."

"Or what?" I challenged, lifting my chin. "Will you hold me down? Will you let Thorne carve into my arm while I scream?"

"I won't have to touch you." Ethan stepped back, adjusting the cuffs of his ruined black suit. "Tomorrow night is the Grand Assembly. Every Alpha, Elder, and pack member in the territory will gather in the square."

A cold dread pooled in my stomach. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"If you do not voluntarily offer your origin blood to Orion tonight," Ethan stated, his voice flat and devoid of emotion, "I will drag you onto the main stage tomorrow."

"You wouldn't."

"I will invoke the Rite of Rejection in front of the entire kingdom."

The room spun. My knees buckled slightly, but I forced myself to stay standing.

"You would reject your own mate?" My voice cracked.

"I will sever our bond," Ethan continued, his words striking like physical blows. "I will strip your title. I will erase your name from the pack registry. You will be cast out as a rogue, bearing a fatherless bastard."

"He is your child!" I screamed. Tears blurred my vision, hot and furious. "You would throw your own pup into exile? You would let the whole pack spit on us?"

"Ivy entrusted her son to me. I swore on her dying breath that he would live." Ethan didn't flinch. He didn't blink. "I will not fail her."

"But you will fail me."

"You have a choice." He gestured toward the bed, where the tiny infant lay gasping for air. "Give up your origin power. Nourish the boy. Keep your place by my side."

"A place by your side," I repeated bitterly. "As a hollow shell. Mourning the baby you forced me to kill."

"The choice is yours." Ethan turned his back to me. He walked over to the bed and placed a hand on Orion's fragile head. "Thorne will prepare the extraction tools. You have until midnight to decide."

"Ethan, please." The anger broke, leaving only sheer panic. "Don't do this. Don't make me choose between my baby and my life here."

He didn't answer. He didn't even look over his shoulder.

Thorne quietly opened his leather bag again, pulling out a length of clear tubing and a thick, hollow needle. The metallic clink echoed in the silent room.

I stared at the needle. Then I stared at the broad back of my husband.

The clock on the wall ticked. Eleven-fifteen.

Forty-five minutes.

I pressed a hand over my stomach. My wolf whimpered in the back of my mind, curling tightly around the tiny spark of life growing inside me. If I stayed, my baby would die to feed Ivy's legacy. If I refused, I would be publicly humiliated, stripped of my soul's other half, and hunted as a rogue.

Thorne set the needle on a silver tray. "Whenever you are ready, Luna."

"Draw another ounce." Ethan’s voice cut through the sterile quiet of the nursery.

"Alpha, she is already trembling," Thorne replied.

"I said draw it."

The thick needle dug deeper into my vein. I bit the inside of my cheek until it bled. The clear tubing flashed crimson, siphoning the glowing origin power straight from my bloodstream into the waiting vial.

My stomach cramped. A sharp, hollow ache radiated from my womb. The tiny flutter of life inside me, usually so active, had grown terrifyingly still over the last two weeks.

"He needs more," Ethan insisted. He stood over the gilded crib, gently stroking Orion’s cheek. The infant cooed, his skin now a healthy, vibrant pink.

"Ethan," I rasped. My throat felt like sandpaper. "Please. The baby... my baby isn't moving."

He didn't even glance my way. "Orion’s color is finally returning. You will sit there until Thorne is finished."

A violent cough ripped through my chest. I slapped my hand over my mouth. When I pulled it away, wet crimson smeared my palm.

Thorne paused, his eyes widening at the blood. "Luna, your internal organs are straining."

"Keep going," I ordered, my voice hollow. If I stopped now, Ethan would drag me to the square. I wiped my bloody palm on my gray sweatpants.

Ethan lifted Orion from the mattress, cradling him against his broad chest. "You are doing so well, little wolf," he murmured to the boy. His tone held a warmth I hadn't heard in months. A warmth reserved entirely for Ivy’s orphan.

"Alpha," a young nurse interrupted, stepping into the doorway. "The council requires your signature on the territory expansion. And... the Luna's prenatal vitamins arrived."

Ethan scoffed. He adjusted the blanket around Orion. "Throw the pills out."

"But Alpha," the nurse stammered, "her pregnancy—"

"Her pregnancy is an unnecessary burden," Ethan stated clearly. The words echoed off the stone walls. "It drains resources we need for Orion. If her pup doesn't survive the extraction process, it wasn't strong enough to bear my name anyway."

The nurse lowered her head and scurried away.

I stared at the man I married. I should have screamed. I should have thrown the silver tray at his head. Instead, a dry, broken chuckle slipped past my lips.

Ethan finally turned to me, his brows knitted in disgust. "What is funny?"

"Nothing," I whispered. "Nothing at all."

Thorne pulled the needle free and pressed a cotton bandage to my bruised arm. "We are done for today."

I didn't wait for Ethan's dismissal. I pushed myself up from the leather chair. The floor tilted. Black spots danced across my vision.

"Be here at dawn tomorrow," Ethan commanded to my back.

I stumbled out of the nursery into the long, drafty corridor. The heavy oak door clicked shut behind me, severing me from my husband and the child he chose over ours.

My knees gave out.

I braced for the hard impact of the stone floor. It never came.

Thick, muscular arms wrapped around my waist, hauling me upward. The scent of pine and rain washed over me.

"I have you," a deep voice rumbled.

I blinked away the dizziness. Silas. The pack’s lead tracker stood over me, his jaw set in a hard line. He rarely spoke, preferring to blend into the shadows of the estate, but right now, his golden eyes burned with quiet fury.

"Put me down, Silas," I mumbled, trying to push against his chest. My arms had no strength.

"This is the third time this week you have collapsed," Silas noted. He didn't let go. Instead, he shifted his grip, supporting my weight completely. "You are bleeding from your mouth, Luna. You are fading."

"I'm fine."

"You are lying." Silas guided me to a carved wooden bench against the wall and eased me down. He dropped to one knee in front of me.

Another wave of nausea hit. I curled forward, wrapping both arms around my stomach. "My pup," I gasped. "I can't feel my pup."

Silas stripped off his leather gloves. Without asking for permission, he pressed his bare palm directly against my abdomen.

Heat flared from his skin. A surge of raw, untainted energy flowed into my freezing body. My wolf whined in relief, eagerly absorbing the warmth.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Stabilizing the womb," Silas answered. His gaze remained locked on my stomach. "Your core is entirely depleted. I have watched you tear yourself apart for days. If I do not anchor the pup's life force right now, you will miscarry before midnight."

I squeezed my eyes shut. A tear finally broke free, tracking through the dried blood on my chin. "He called my baby a burden."

"I heard." Silas’s jaw clenched. The muscles in his neck pulled taut. "The Alpha is blind."

"He's going to drain me until there's nothing left."

Silas lifted his head. His golden eyes locked onto mine, intense and unyielding. "Then you must stop giving it to him."

"You know what he threatened. The Rite of Rejection. Exile."

"Exile is better than a grave." Silas pressed harder against my stomach. The heat intensified. Deep inside, a faint, answering flutter tapped against his palm.

My breath caught. "The baby moved."

"The pup is fighting," Silas said. He slowly pulled his hand away, though the warmth lingered in my veins. "But it cannot fight a daily extraction. You are on the verge of a total collapse, Serena."

He used my first name. No title. No formalities.

"If I run," I whispered, glancing nervously down the empty hall, "Ethan will hunt me down. He will brand me a traitor. I'll have nowhere to go."

Silas stood. He towered over me, a massive shadow blocking the dim chandelier light. "You have allies you do not see."

"Who?" I asked bitterly. "The nurses who look away? The doctor who stabs me with that needle every morning?"

"Me."

I stared at him. The lead tracker answered only to the Alpha. Offering to help me was treason.

"Why would you risk your life for me?"

"Because I refuse to stand in the dark and watch you die." Silas reached into his black coat and pulled out a small, folded piece of parchment. He slipped it into my trembling hand. "Memorize the map. Burn the paper."

"What is this?"

"A way out." Silas stepped back, his expression smoothing into a mask of professional indifference as footsteps echoed from the far staircase. "Tomorrow night, during the border patrol shift change. Be at the weeping willow by the east gate."

"Silas—"

"Do not fail me, Serena. I will only offer this once."

He turned and melted into the shadows of the corridor just as Thorne emerged from the nursery.

The doctor eyed me suspiciously. "Luna? Are you unwell?"

"Just catching my breath," I lied, my fingers tightening around the hidden parchment.

I forced myself to stand. My legs shook, but the faint pulse of my baby grounded me. I had a choice to make. Stay and let Ethan bleed my child dry, or risk the wrath of the entire kingdom by running into the unknown.

As I walked back to my empty bedroom, a sharp, piercing pain suddenly ripped through my lower back. I grabbed the doorframe, gasping for air.

Warm liquid rushed down my thighs.

I looked down.

Blood. Puddling on the floorboards.

"No," I choked out. "No, please, not yet."

The door at the end of the hall swung open, and Ethan stepped out, his eyes locking onto the crimson pool at my feet.