Chapter 3

The Luna acknowledgment lasted less than four minutes before Bianca collapsed.

I had barely stepped onto the ceremonial dais beside Nikolai when a commotion broke out near the front row.

"I can't breathe," Bianca gasped.

She clutched her throat and folded against the arm of a bench.

Nikolai left my side before the elder finished the blessing.

"Clear the aisle!"

He pushed through the crowd, lifted Bianca into his arms, and carried her out of the hall. The silver Luna sash still hung from my shoulder. The pack watched their Alpha abandon his marked mate in the middle of her own acknowledgment ceremony.

No one said a word.

I removed the sash myself.

Elder Torin approached as the crowd began to disperse. "Your visit with your father will have to be delayed."

"No."

"The Alpha is occupied."

"My agreement was not dependent on Bianca's breathing schedule."

His brows rose.

"Ten minutes," I said. "Supervised. You gave your word in front of the council."

Torin studied me, then signaled to two guards.

"Take her to the east barracks."

My relief lasted exactly twelve steps.

A runner came through the side door, breathless. "Elder Torin. The Alpha orders Lady Elara returned to the estate immediately. The prisoner has been moved to medical observation after an interrogation incident. No visitors."

"An interrogation incident?" I asked. "What did they do to him?"

The runner looked away.

Torin's jaw hardened, but he did not challenge the order.

I understood then that Nikolai could keep moving the walls whenever I found a door.

An hour later, I sat alone in the estate study with the copied transfer spread beneath my hands. I had memorized every number on the page.

Two million dollars. October fourteenth. Darius Thorne.

A violent wave of nausea rolled through me.

I reached the bathroom just in time.

When the sickness passed, I stayed on my knees, breathing against the cold tile.

There was one truth I had been hiding even before Nikolai turned our wedding into a prison.

I reached into the inner pocket of my formal dress and unfolded the blood-test report I had obtained from a junior infirmary technician two days ago.

HCG: ELEVATED.

PREGNANCY CONSISTENT WITH APPROX. FIVE WEEKS.

I pressed one hand over my abdomen.

Nikolai had just said my bloodline should never continue. He believed my father was a murderer. If I told him now, would he protect the child because it was his heir—or treat it as one more piece of the Vale family to control?

I could not risk finding out.

I folded the report and tucked it beneath the removable lining of my jewelry case.

Voices rose in the foyer.

Three servants carried luggage up the stairs. Behind them walked Bianca, color restored to her cheeks so completely that the scene in the ceremonial hall looked almost absurd.

"Put those down," I said.

The servants stopped.

Bianca rested a hand on the banister. "The healer wants me under observation. Nikolai asked me to stay here."

"There are guest rooms downstairs."

"The south suite has the best light."

My blood chilled.

The south suite was not a guest room.

I climbed the stairs and blocked the white oak door at the end of the hall.

"Not this room."

Bianca tilted her head. "Why?"

"You know why."

For months, I had prepared that room as a future nursery. I had painted the walls myself, restored the old family cradle, and hidden tiny silver stars along the ceiling beams.

Bianca's eyes dropped briefly to my stomach.

The glance was so fast I almost missed it.

"Move," she said.

"No."

The front doors opened below us.

Nikolai came up the stairs two at a time.

"What is happening?"

Bianca immediately sagged against the railing. "Nothing. I told Elara I could take another room. She seems upset."

"She is not taking the nursery," I said.

Nikolai looked at the door behind me. "It is an empty room."

"It is not empty to me."

"Bianca needs somewhere quiet to recover."

"Then give her one of the nine actual guest suites."

His patience snapped.

"We are not having pups, Elara."

The words landed exactly where Bianca's glance had.

My hand moved toward my abdomen before I stopped it.

Nikolai saw the motion but misunderstood it as shock.

"Your father's bloodline ends with you," he said. "Do not build fantasies around a future that does not exist."

I wanted to tell him he was already wrong.

Instead, I stepped closer and lowered my voice. "If you change the lock, you are not giving Bianca a room. You are taking something from me because you can."

"Then consider it taken."

He gripped my arm, moved me aside, and entered a new code on the keypad.

The lock flashed green.

Bianca walked past me with a small, private smile.

Inside, one of the servants set her suitcase beside the cradle.

I felt something inside me harden.

That evening, I pulled an old duffel bag from under the bed and packed the things I could carry without attracting attention: cash, boots, a winter coat, my mother's pocketknife, and copies of every document I had managed to photograph.

I had just hidden the pregnancy report beneath the false bottom when someone knocked.

Garrett, the lead border guard, stood outside with two warriors.

"Alpha's order," he said. "You are required at the council banquet tonight."

"Why?"

His gaze flicked away from mine.

"Bianca will sit at the Alpha's right hand. The Luna's seat will remain empty."

I looked back at the half-packed bag on my bed.

If I ran now, I would lose access to my father and the pack records.

If I stayed, Nikolai would keep stripping away everything he could reach.

I zipped the duffel closed and shoved it beneath the bed.

"Fine," I said. "Take me to the banquet."

Garrett stepped aside.