The servants' entrance was unlocked, as always.

I slipped through the narrow door at the back of the Pack House, my wet shoes silent on the stone floor. The hallway smelled like pine cleaner and something cooking in the kitchens—roasted meat, probably for tonight's pack dinner. My stomach twisted with hunger, but I pushed past it. I'd eaten yesterday. That was enough.

Dariel's office was on the second floor, down the corridor reserved for ranked wolves. I'd only been inside once, months ago, when he'd first brought me here and told me the cabin would be "temporary." That had been six months ago.

I climbed the back stairs, my hand trailing along the polished banister. Everything here was solid, expensive, permanent. Not like my cabin with its leaking roof and rotting floorboards. This was what a Luna deserved. What our pup deserved.

Voices drifted from behind the heavy oak door of Dariel's office. I recognized his laugh immediately—deep and genuine in a way it never was with me. My hand lifted to knock, then froze as I heard Marcus speak.

"So what's the deal with the Adams girl?" The Beta's voice was casual, curious. "She's been here six months. You planning to make it official?"

Silence. Then Dariel laughed again, but this time it was different. Dismissive. Cold.

"Nora?" He said my name like it was a joke. "She's just a convenient placeholder to warm my bed until I get over Jessica. I feel no bond with that weak little girl."

The world tilted.

I pressed my palm flat against the door to steady myself, my other hand instinctively covering my stomach. Protecting. Hiding.

"Harsh, man," Marcus said, but he was laughing too. "She gave up everything for you. Her pack, her family—"

"She made her choice." Dariel's voice was flat, bored. "I never promised her anything. If she wants to play house in that cabin and pretend we're something we're not, that's her problem."

"What if she's your fated mate, though? What if your wolf just hasn't—"

"My wolf knows what it wants, and it's not her." The certainty in his voice was a knife between my ribs. "Jessica is coming back next week. I can feel it. And when she does, the Adams girl can go crawl back to daddy."

I didn't remember backing away from the door. Didn't remember stumbling down the hallway or taking the stairs too fast, my shoes slipping on the polished wood. I just remember the cold air hitting my face as I burst through the servants' entrance, gasping like I'd been drowning.

Placeholder.

Convenient.

Weak little girl.

My hands shook as I pressed them against my stomach, feeling nothing but the flat plane of my belly and the dress clinging wet and cold to my skin. Inside me, a tiny life was growing. Dariel's heir. The future of his pack.

And he thought I was nothing.

The walk back to the cabin passed in a blur of rain and tears I couldn't stop. My mother's dress was ruined now, caked with mud and torn at the hem where I'd tripped over a root. I didn't care. Nothing mattered except the horrible truth echoing in my head.

He never wanted me. He never felt the bond. I was just something warm and available while he pined for someone else.

Inside the cabin, I collapsed onto the bed, my whole body shaking. Not from cold this time. From something deeper, something that felt like it was tearing me apart from the inside.

What would he do if he knew about the pup? Would he take it from me? Raise it with Jessica when she came back? Cast me out and keep his heir, leaving me with nothing?

I couldn't tell him. I couldn't risk it.

My hand pressed harder against my stomach, protective and desperate.

"I won't let him take you," I whispered into the empty cabin. "I won't let him throw you away like he's throwing me away."

The rain drummed against the roof, finding new leaks, new ways to invade my pathetic shelter. I pulled the ruined blanket over myself and curled around the secret growing inside me.

Two days later, I was gathering firewood near the tree line when I heard it—the low purr of an expensive engine.

A black limousine rolled up the Pack House drive, sleek and out of place among the pickup trucks and SUVs. I froze, my arms full of damp branches, watching as the driver opened the back door.

She stepped out like something from a magazine. Tall, blonde, perfect. Her scent hit me even from this distance—flowers, overwhelming and sweet, making my wolf whimper and retreat.

Jessica.

The Pack House doors burst open and Dariel ran out, actually ran, like a man who'd been holding his breath for months and could finally breathe again. He reached her in seconds, pulling her into his arms, his face buried in her hair.

I watched him inhale her scent. Watched his whole body relax, like he'd finally come home.

He'd never looked at me like that. Not once.

My fingers dug into the rough bark of the firewood, splinters biting into my palms. Inside me, the pup—our pup—grew in the darkness, unwanted and unknown.

And I understood, finally, what it meant to be truly alone.

Marcus showed up at my cabin door three days after Jessica's arrival.

I'd been watching the Pack House from my window, tracking Dariel's movements like some pathetic stalker. I'd seen him walking with her through the gardens. Seen them laughing on the terrace. Seen the way he touched the small of her back, guiding her like she was something precious that might break.

He'd never touched me like that.

"Nora." Marcus didn't even try to hide his discomfort. He stood on my rotting porch like he might catch poverty from breathing my air. "The Alpha has issued new territory guidelines."

I wrapped my cardigan tighter around myself, trying to hide the way my hands shook. "Guidelines?"

"Jessica Palmer is an honored guest of the pack." His voice was flat, rehearsed. "To avoid any... incidents, you're forbidden from entering the Pack House or the Alpha's floor until further notice."

The words hit like a slap. "I need to speak to Dariel about something important. It's medical—"

"The Alpha is busy." Marcus wouldn't meet my eyes. "Any concerns can be submitted in writing to my office."

"Marcus, please." My voice cracked. "I just need five minutes—"

"Those are the orders, Nora." He turned to leave, then paused. "Also, your allowance has been... redirected. Pack resources are being allocated elsewhere."

He was gone before I could respond, leaving me standing in the doorway with my hand pressed against my stomach and the world crumbling around me.

No money. No access. No way to tell him about the pup growing inside me.

I was being erased.

Two days later, I walked the three miles to the pack's general store with my last twenty dollars and a desperate plan. I needed prenatal vitamins. The pregnancy books I'd borrowed from the pack library said they were essential, especially in the first trimester.

The store was nearly empty when I arrived, thank the Moon Goddess. I found the vitamin aisle and grabbed the cheapest bottle, my fingers trembling as I read the label. Folic acid. Iron. Everything the baby needed.

Everything I couldn't give it on my own.

At the register, I handed over my pack allowance card—the one Dariel had given me months ago with a careless "buy whatever you need." The cashier swiped it once. Twice. Three times.

"I'm sorry, miss. This card's been declined."

Heat flooded my face. "That's not possible. Can you try again?"

She did. Same result. "Says the account's been closed."

Behind me, someone laughed.

I turned and felt my stomach drop. Jessica stood there in designer jeans and a cashmere sweater that probably cost more than my cabin. And beside her, wearing a cruel smile I knew too well, was Adaline.

My stepsister. Of course she'd come to watch me suffer.

"Oh my God, Nora?" Adaline's voice dripped with fake concern. "What are you doing here? I thought you were living in some fairy tale with your Alpha."

Jessica's eyes swept over me—my worn clothes, my unwashed hair, the vitamin bottle clutched in my hand. "Prenatal vitamins? How... optimistic."

I tried to speak, but my throat had closed.

"Here." Adaline pulled out a black credit card, sliding it across the counter to the cashier. "Ring up that sad little bottle for my sister. And add this." She grabbed a bottle of expensive wine from the display. "We're celebrating Jessica's return."

The cashier processed the transaction while I stood there, humiliation burning through my veins. Adaline handed me the vitamin bottle like it was charity.

"You're welcome," she said sweetly. Then, quieter, so only I could hear: "You really thought he'd choose you? You're nobody, Nora. You've always been nobody."

They left laughing, arm in arm, while I stood frozen with my cheap vitamins and cheaper pride.

I should have known it would get worse.

The storm hit that night with a violence that shook the cabin's walls. Thunder cracked like the sky was splitting open, and I curled into a ball on my bed, hands pressed over my ears.

I'd been terrified of storms since I was six, since the night my mother died in a car accident during weather just like this. Alpha John used to hold me through them, his strong arms the only thing that made me feel safe.

But Alpha John was three hundred miles away, and I'd burned that bridge when I chose Dariel.

The roof gave first—a horrible groaning sound followed by a crash as part of the ceiling caved in. Rain poured through the gap, flooding the floor, soaking everything. Lightning illuminated the cabin in stark flashes, showing me just how close I was to losing even this pathetic shelter.

I was shaking so hard I could barely think. The baby. I had to protect the baby.

I did the one thing I'd sworn I wouldn't do.

I reached for the mind-link, that invisible thread that connected me to Dariel whether he wanted it or not.

*Dariel, please. The cabin's flooding. The roof collapsed. I'm scared. Please, I just need somewhere safe until the storm passes.*

Silence. Long, horrible silence.

Then, finally, his voice in my head—distracted, annoyed.

*I'm busy, Nora. Figure it out.*

The link snapped closed.

I sat there in the dark, in the cold, in the water rising around my ankles, and felt something inside me break that I didn't think could ever be fixed.

The mind-link opened like a wound.

*Dariel, please. The cabin's flooding. The roof collapsed. I'm scared. Please, I just need somewhere safe until the storm passes.*

Silence stretched so long I thought he'd blocked me entirely. Then his voice came through, sharp with irritation.

*Stop being dramatic and seeking attention, Nora. I'm busy. Jessica twisted her ankle and needs me.*

The link slammed shut before I could respond, leaving me alone with the thunder and the rising water.

I pressed myself into the driest corner of the cabin, knees pulled to my chest, one hand curved protectively over my stomach. Jessica twisted her ankle. That was more important than me drowning in a collapsing building. That was more important than the mother of his child.

The storm raged until dawn. I didn't sleep. I just sat there in the cold water, shivering, counting the minutes until morning.

By the time the sun rose, I could barely stand. My legs had gone numb from the cold, and when I finally stumbled outside, I felt something warm and wet between my thighs.

Blood.

Not much. Just a few drops. But enough to send panic clawing up my throat.

I made it to the pack clinic just after eight, slipping through the back entrance like the ghost I'd become. The waiting room was empty except for an elderly wolf reading a magazine. I kept my head down, my hand pressed against my lower abdomen.

"Nora?" Dr. Elena Rivera appeared in the doorway, her dark eyes widening. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to see you. Privately."

She ushered me into an exam room without another word, closing the door firmly behind us. "What's wrong?"

"I'm pregnant." The words came out in a rush. "About six weeks. And I'm spotting. Just a little, but—"

"Lie down." Her voice shifted into professional mode, all business. She helped me onto the exam table, her hands gentle as she pressed against my abdomen. "How long have you been spotting?"

"Since this morning. After the storm."

Her jaw tightened. "You were in that cabin during the storm? The one with the collapsed roof?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

Dr. Elena was quiet for a long moment, her hands moving carefully over my stomach. Finally, she stepped back, her expression grave. "The fetus is under extreme stress, Nora. Your body is too cold, too malnourished. You're not producing enough of the hormones needed to sustain a healthy pregnancy."

"What does that mean?"

"It means without proper care, without the father's comforting pheromones and better nutrition, you risk a miscarriage." She met my eyes. "Does Alpha Dariel know?"

I shook my head.

"You need to tell him. Tonight. A pregnant she-wolf needs her mate's presence, his scent, his protection. It's biological. Without it—"

"He won't care." The words tasted like ash. "He's with Jessica."

Dr. Elena's expression softened with something that looked like pity. "Then you need to leave, Nora. Go back to your father. This environment is killing you and your pup."

But I couldn't leave. Where would I go? Back to Alpha John and admit he'd been right all along? Become a rogue with a baby and no pack?

I left the clinic with a bottle of vitamins I couldn't afford and instructions I couldn't follow.

The Head Omega found me that afternoon, her sharp knock rattling my cabin door.

"You're needed at the Pack House tonight," she said without preamble. "We're short-staffed for the gala."

"Gala?"

"To celebrate Miss Palmer's return." Her lips pursed with disapproval. "You'll serve champagne. Wear something presentable."

She left before I could refuse.

I had nothing presentable. Everything I owned was ruined or threadbare. I settled on a black dress I'd worn to a funeral two years ago, the fabric thin and faded but at least clean. My hands shook as I braided my hair, watching my reflection in the cracked mirror.

You can do this. Just a few hours. Then you can come back here and figure out what to do.

The Pack House blazed with light when I arrived through the servants' entrance. Music drifted from the ballroom, along with laughter and the clink of glasses. I joined the other servers in the kitchen, accepting a tray of champagne flutes with hands that wouldn't stop trembling.

"Table one first," the Head Omega instructed. "The Alpha and his guest."

Of course.

I walked into the ballroom on legs that felt like water. The space had been transformed—white flowers everywhere, candles casting golden light across the polished floor. And there, on the raised platform where the Alpha's throne sat, were Dariel and Jessica.

She wore red. Crimson silk that clung to her perfect body, her blonde hair cascading over bare shoulders. Dariel sat beside her in a black suit, his hand resting possessively on the arm of her chair.

They looked like royalty.

I approached with my tray, keeping my eyes down, praying he wouldn't notice me.

"Champagne?" My voice came out barely above a whisper.

Jessica plucked a glass from my tray without looking at me. But Dariel's eyes found mine, and for one horrible second, I thought I saw recognition. Thought I saw something flicker in his expression.

Then Jessica laughed, her hand sliding onto his thigh, and whatever I'd seen vanished.

"Thank you," he said, his voice distant and polite, like I was a stranger.

Like I was nothing.

I backed away, my tray shaking, champagne sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the glasses. Around me, the pack celebrated. Warriors toasted. She-wolves whispered and giggled. Everyone was so happy.

And I stood there in my funeral dress, carrying drinks for the man who'd destroyed me, invisible even when I was right in front of him.