Karyme POV:

Morning light hit the dust motes in the dining room, mocking the stagnation inside.

I sat at the mahogany table, staring at cold eggs.

Last month, a rogue's wolfsbane blade had sliced my side open. I lay screaming in the clinic while the doctor scrubbed the wound without anesthesia. Archie held my hand. Until his phone buzzed.

"Faustina feels dizzy."

He dropped my hand. He left me bleeding to hold the hand of a woman who needed a glass of water.

The doors swung open.

Archie walked in, showered but exhausted. Beside him was Faustina. She wasn't in uniform. She wore a silk dress tight enough to show a bump that looked suspiciously large for three months.

She reeked of him. Not just proximity-she smelled like a claimed wolf.

Archie saw me and flinched. He turned to Faustina. "Kitchen. Supplements."

It was an Alpha Command. Faustina's knees buckled, but she smirked as she obeyed, leaving a trail of herbal perfume that smelled like rot masked by flowers.

Archie rushed to my side, dropping to his knees.

"You smell like her," I said.

"I scrubbed my skin raw," he pleaded. "Karyme, the Elders are watching. My father pressures me daily. Once the pup is born, she's gone."

"What about your vows?"

"I love your soul," Archie said, grabbing my face. "My body is just a tool. It's like lifting a heavy weight or running a patrol. It's duty."

"A tool," I repeated. It felt like ash in my mouth.

Faustina reappeared in the doorway with a glass of milk. She caught my eye and deliberately brushed her hair back, revealing a fresh, purple bruise on her neck. A love bite.

Archie followed my gaze and stiffened. "I told you to stay in the kitchen!"

"The baby needed air, Alpha," she cooed, releasing a sharp, challenging pheromone.

My wolf snarled. Kill her.

"Get out," Archie roared.

Faustina bowed and left, her victory absolute.

Archie buried his face in my lap. "I'm sorry. Six more months. Then we toss her to the rogues. Just give me an heir."

I looked at the dark hair I used to love.

"You've already lost me, Archie," I whispered.

Karyme POV:

"If I ever touch her with anything other than duty, may Silver pierce my heart," Archie swore in the moonlight.

I covered his mouth. "Don't make vows you can't keep."

He handed me a glass of warm milk. It smelled of honey and potent valerian root.

"Drink," he urged. "It will help you rest."

He was drugging me so he wouldn't feel my pain through the bond when he went to her.

I faked a swallow, holding the liquid in my cheeks. "Good girl," he whispered, tucking me in.

Ten minutes later, he slipped out.

I spat the milk into a potted plant and crept to the door. He wasn't going to the kitchen. He was heading to the Guest Wing.

I followed.

Faustina sat on her bed, sobbing. "It hurts, Archie! My leg..."

Archie sat beside her. "Let me see."

A scratch. Nothing.

"Please," she whimpered.

My stomach dropped as Archie bent his head and licked the wound. Saliva heals, yes. But licking is intimate. It's caretaking.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much better," she purred, tangling her fingers in his hair. "Maybe... maybe I can stay? As a nanny?"

Archie sighed. "We will see. I will give you a place in the Pack."

I slid down the hallway wall. A place in the Pack.

My phone vibrated. Encrypted text.

Safe house compromised. Traces of the cub found. Moving Jalen tonight.

Jalen.

I stifled a sob. Four years ago, I hid my pregnancy. I birthed him alone in a winter cabin, biting a leather strap to stay silent. He was born early. Small. Weak wolf spirit. If Archie had seen him-a scrawny thing-he would have seen the curse and rejected him.

So I hid him.

I looked at the text. We need to move Jalen.

Archie was staying in that room. Good.

I had a son to save. And saving him meant leaving my mate.

Karyme POV:

I spent the morning building a brick wall around the mate bond in my mind. It felt like a migraine, but it blocked his guilt.

I walked toward the clinic.

"Luna," a warrior nodded, pity in his eyes.

I stopped. Archie and Faustina were outside the exam room.

"Confirmed, Alpha," the doctor said. "High testosterone. Strong heartbeat. Alpha male."

Archie let out a shaky breath. "An heir."

"Our heir," Faustina corrected.

Archie stared at her stomach with a reverence he never gave me. Faustina released a scent-something brewed by a witch doctor, smelling like a potent, high-ranking pup.

Archie's pupils dilated. Instinct overrode logic. He pulled her flush against him, burying his nose in her neck.

"Archie," she gasped. "The Luna."

"She is a gentle Omega," Archie growled, voice distorted. "She understands duty."

Gentle Omega.

I pulled out my phone. Hidden folder.

Jalen. Four years old. Dark eyes, Archie's crooked smile. Holding a stick like a sword. "Mama, when can I meet Papa? I can growl!"

If I showed Archie... if he saw Jalen-sickly, small-he would see a broken thing. A mistake.

No. Archie didn't deserve Jalen.

I turned and walked away. I packed a duffel bag. Cash. ID. Silver dagger.

I was leaving tonight.