Six months into Archer and Blake's political mating, I found myself counting days, then hours, then minutes until I could see him again. The old oak grove had become our sanctuary—a place where pack politics couldn't reach us, where Archer could pretend his mark on Blake's neck didn't exist.

"I've missed you," Archer whispered, his fingers tracing the curve of my spine as we lay beneath the ancient oak tree. Moonlight filtered through its branches, casting silver patterns across his face.

I pressed closer to him, breathing in his scent—pine and wild berries, now tainted with the faint trace of Blake that clung to his skin. "How much longer?" I asked, my voice barely audible against the night sounds of the forest.

"Soon," he promised, his lips finding mine in a kiss that felt like both an apology and a vow. "The alliance is securing. Once Blake has fulfilled her duty—"

"And then?" I prompted when he fell silent.

"Then I'll reject her," he said firmly, though something flickered in his eyes—doubt, perhaps, or fear. "You know you're my true mate, Helen. You've always been."

Luna stirred within me, soothed by his words despite her lingering pain. I ran my fingers through his dark hair, memorizing the texture, the weight of it between my fingers.

"Blake doesn't suspect?" I asked, hating the jealousy that colored my voice.

"She's focused on pack duties," he replied, his thumb tracing circles on my wrist. "On producing the heir we need for the alliance."

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the image of Blake carrying Archer's child—the child that should have been ours. "And after?"

"After," he repeated, pressing his forehead to mine, "we'll have everything we've dreamed of. You'll be my Luna, and we'll rule Silvermoon together."

---

The days grew longer as winter melted into spring. I spent hours in my cottage, selecting fabrics for my ceremonial dress, planning the details of what would be our mate ceremony.

"What do you think of this one?" I held up a bolt of deep blue silk to Elena, who sat cross-legged on my bed.

"It's beautiful," she said, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Archer will love it."

I frowned at her tone. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said too quickly. "It's just... he's been spending more time with Blake lately."

My heart stuttered. "The twins," I said, the words bitter on my tongue. "He's being a father."

"Yes," Elena admitted reluctantly. "And... Helen, there are rumors. About the Luna ceremony."

I set down the silk, suddenly unable to look at it. "What rumors?"

"That it might be sooner than expected," she whispered. "For Blake."

Luna growled within me, her anger matching my own rising panic. I'd waited nearly a year. One more month couldn't matter.

Could it?

---

The anniversary of Archer's forced mating to Blake arrived with cruel clarity. I stood outside the pack house, dressed in the blue silk gown I'd chosen months ago, my heart pounding against my ribs.

The pack had gathered in the great hall—not for my ceremony, as I'd hoped, but for an announcement. I slipped in quietly, taking my place at the back of the crowd.

Archer stood at the front, Blake beside him, their twin pups in a bassinet nearby. His face was carved from stone, unreadable as he surveyed the assembled wolves.

"Silvermoon Pack," he began, his Alpha voice resonating through the hall. "Today marks one year since my mating to Luna Blake."

Luna whined anxiously within me. *Wrong*, she seemed to say. *Wrong mate*.

"I have an announcement," Archer continued, his eyes deliberately avoiding the back of the hall where I stood. "As you know, Luna Blake has successfully borne the heirs to our pack."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. I felt Elena's hand slip into mine, squeezing tightly.

"Our alliance with Nightshade Pack has never been stronger," Archer said. "And therefore, after careful consideration of pack obligations and the stability of both our territories..."

He paused, and in that moment, I knew. Somehow, I knew.

"I will be holding a formal Luna ceremony for Blake next month," he announced. "Her position as official Luna of Silvermoon Pack will be permanently recognized."

The room spun around me. One year. He had promised one year.

"Archer," I whispered, though I knew he couldn't hear me from across the crowded hall.

But he turned anyway, his eyes finding mine at last. For a brief moment, I saw the agony in them—the conflict between duty and desire.

Then Blake stepped forward, placing her hand possessively on his arm, and his expression hardened into that of an Alpha making difficult but necessary decisions.

"The rejection of the mother of my heirs would destabilize our alliance," he said, his voice carrying clearly now. "It would endanger both packs."

And in that moment, as the pack erupted in cheers for their Alpha and Luna, I felt something inside me shatter—the last fragile piece of hope that had kept me whole.

Three weeks had passed since Archer's betrayal. Three weeks since he'd announced Blake as his official Luna while I stood at the back of the hall, my ceremonial dress hidden beneath a simple cloak. Three weeks of silence, of unanswered calls, of Luna's constant whimpering inside me.

But today was different. Today, everything would change.

I stood before the mirror in my cottage, watching as Elena's eyes widened at the sight of me.

"Helen," she whispered, "you're glowing."

I touched my still-flat stomach, a smile spreading across my face. "I know."

The pregnancy test had confirmed what Luna had sensed days ago—a tiny life growing inside me, half me, half Archer. Our pup. Proof that the Moon Goddess had blessed our bond despite everything.

"Do you think..." Elena hesitated, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her shirt. "Do you think this will change things?"

"I know it will," I said with certainty that surprised even me. "This is our sign, Elena. Archer will have to acknowledge our bond now."

Luna stirred within me, her presence warm and protective around the tiny spark of life we carried. *Our pup*, she whispered. *Our future*.

I dressed carefully in a pale yellow dress that complemented my skin tone, pinning my hair back with the silver clasp Archer had given me on my eighteenth birthday. The weight of the crescent moon pendant against my collarbone reminded me of everything we'd been through—and everything we would overcome.

"He'll be in his office," Elena said as she walked me to the door. "Blake is there too—they're planning something for the twins."

I nodded, trying to ignore the stab of pain at the mention of Archer and Blake's children. They were innocent in all this, and I would never resent them. But today wasn't about them.

It was about my child. Our child.

The walk to the pack house felt shorter than usual, my steps light with purpose. Pack members nodded respectfully as I passed, though I caught the pitying glances some exchanged. News traveled fast in Silvermoon—they all knew about Archer's Luna ceremony with Blake.

But they didn't know about this. About the miracle growing inside me.

I paused outside Archer's office, smoothing my dress and taking a deep breath. Luna's excitement vibrated through me as I knocked on the heavy oak door.

"Enter," came Archer's deep voice.

I pushed the door open, my heart hammering against my ribs. Archer sat behind his desk, maps and documents spread before him. Blake stood beside him, leaning over to point at something on the paper.

They both looked up at my entrance, Blake's eyes narrowing slightly before her face smoothed into a practiced smile.

"Helen," Archer said, surprise evident in his voice. "What brings you here?"

Blake straightened, her hand resting protectively over her flat stomach—where her twins had once been, now safely born and sleeping in the nursery down the hall.

"I need to speak with you," I said, my voice stronger than I expected. "Alone."

Blake's smile tightened. "Whatever you have to say to my mate, you can say in front of me."

I ignored her, keeping my eyes fixed on Archer. "Please."

Something in my expression must have conveyed my urgency because Archer nodded, rising from his chair. "Blake, give us a moment."

She hesitated, then nodded curtly and moved toward the door. As she passed me, she paused, her eyes cold. "Don't overstay your welcome, Helen."

When the door closed behind her, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Is everything alright?" Archer asked, concern etching lines around his eyes.

I nodded, unable to contain my smile any longer. "I'm pregnant."

The words hung in the air between us. Archer's face went completely still, his eyes fixed on mine as if searching for the truth.

"Archer," I whispered, stepping closer. "We're going to have a pup."

He sank back into his chair, his expression unreadable. "That's... that's not possible."

"It's yours," I said, a laugh bubbling up from my chest despite the tension in the room. "Of course it's yours. Who else would it be?"

Before he could respond, the door burst open. Blake stood there, her face pale with fury.

"You're pregnant?" she hissed, her eyes darting between us. "With his child?"

I lifted my chin defiantly. "Yes."

Blake moved toward Archer, her movements fluid and calculated. She placed her hand on his shoulder, her voice dropping to a dangerous purr.

"Think about what this means," she said, her eyes never leaving mine. "A child born outside our alliance. A potential claimant to the Alpha position."

Archer's expression darkened as Blake continued, her words poison wrapped in honey.

"The Nightshade Pack will see this as a betrayal," she whispered. "They'll question the legitimacy of our twins' claim to the throne. Is that what you want, Archer? A succession crisis that could tear both our packs apart?"

I watched as doubt crept into Archer's eyes, as Blake's manipulations took root. Luna growled within me, sensing the danger to our unborn pup.

"No," I whispered, reaching for Archer's hand. "This is our sign. Our blessing."

But Blake was already leaning close to his ear, her words too soft for me to hear, her hand now covering her own stomach in a gesture that mirrored mine—except her children were already born, already recognized.

Already a threat to mine.