Mira stared at the two lines. She should be happy. Relieved. This was what she'd been trying for, what would secure her position, what might finally bring Kieran home for good.

But all she could think about was the clinical encounter that had created this life. The cold efficiency. The immediate departure. The total absence of love.

Voices drifted up from downstairs-Kieran's deep rumble and another voice, older, sharper. His mother. Selene must have been waiting in the study.

Since their wedding, Selene had been a fervent heir-planner. But after Mira gave birth to their daughter Brielle four years ago, nothing had followed. The difficult delivery had nearly claimed Mira's life and had drained her body dry. Almost as soon as she'd recovered, Selene had placed the task of producing a son squarely on her agenda.

What left Mira feeling most powerless was that Kieran had offered almost no objection. She had thought he might have considered her feelings, at least a little.

Mira let out a silent sigh. It didn't matter now. She was finally pregnant again. She hoped this would put an end to the whole charade.

Pushing the door open softly, she headed downstairs to share the "good" news with Kieran. The study was directly below the master suite, and the old manor's ventilation system carried sound perfectly. She'd discovered this accidentally years ago and had hated herself for using it since, but tonight she couldn't help herself.

"-handled it?" Selene was saying. "Did she take the test?"

"She will." Kieran sounded tired. "She's very dutiful about these things."

"If it's another daughter, we need to consider alternatives."

Mira's breath caught. She pressed closer to the doorway, heart hammering.

"What alternatives?" Kieran asked warily.

"Astrid is young, healthy. She could bear you a son without complications."

A silence followed, and Mira felt her heart twist into a cold knot. So that was their next move? But Kieran's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts.

"Absolutely not."

There was a new tension in his tone, and relief flooded through Mira so intensely she felt dizzy. He'd refused. Finally, he was standing up for their marriage. Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe he did still care-

"I haven't forgotten how difficult Mira's last delivery was," Kieran continued. "She nearly died, but she survived it. She can handle that risk again if needed. But Astrid-she's never been through childbirth. I won't put her in that kind of danger."

The world stopped.

Mira stood frozen in the doorway, the positive pregnancy test still clutched in her hand, as her husband's words replayed in her mind.

She can handle that risk again.

Not "I won't risk my wife's life." Not "I care too much about Mira to endanger her."

Just... she could handle it. She'd survived it before. She was the safe option because she was already broken, already used, already disposable.

While Astrid-precious, delicate Astrid-had to be protected.

Something cracked open inside Mira's chest, something that had been holding together through sheer stubborn hope.

Five years of marriage, of devotion, of nearly dying to give him a child, and this was what she meant to him. Not a partner. Not a mate. Just a vessel that had already proven it could take damage and keep functioning.

Was that truly how he saw her? Was that the entirety of her worth in this marriage?

"Well, we'll see what this month brings," Selene said. "But Kieran, you need to be firm with her. She needs to understand her duty."

"I know, Mother."

Their voices faded as they moved toward the front of the house. Mira heard the front door open and close, heard Kieran's car engine start, heard him drive away into the night.

Back to his perfect life. Back to Astrid.

Mira looked down at the pregnancy test in her hand. Her vision blurred with tears she hadn't even felt fall.

Two pink lines that should have meant joy, hope, a future. Instead, they felt like a prison sentence.

She couldn't tell them. They didn't care if she lived or died, and she couldn't bear to imagine the fresh hell that would await her if this child, too, was a girl. Would they cast her aside, scorn her for a useless womb? Or simply schedule the next attempt?

Stumbling back to the bathroom, she braced one hand on the vanity, the other pressed over her heart. No sound of pain escaped her lips, but inside, everything was breaking.

She lifted her gaze to the mirror. Same face, same body, but something fundamental had changed. The woman looking back at her wasn't the hopeful, devoted mate who'd arrived at the manor tonight.

That woman was dead.

Mira turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face, watching droplets fall into the white porcelain sink. When she looked up again, her eyes were clear. Hard.

She can handle that risk again.

No. No, she couldn't. She wouldn't.

She'd spent four years making herself smaller, quieter, more convenient. She'd given up her career, her friends, her sense of self. She'd nearly died bringing Brielle into the world, and Kieran hadn't even visited her during the three days she'd spent in a coma.

And now he expected her to do it again-not because he loved her, not because he wanted a family with her, but because she was the safe option. The one whose life didn't matter.

Mira picked up the positive pregnancy test and looked at it one last time. Then she wrapped it carefully in tissue and placed it in her pocket.

Not to show Kieran. Not to celebrate.

Evidence. For later.

She walked to the closet and began pulling out clothes, packing a small bag with steady hands. She'd go to the estate tonight-see Brielle, kiss her daughter goodnight.

For years, she'd been kept at a distance from her own child under the pretense that she needed to focus entirely on conceiving again. Selene had insisted Brielle was cared for by the staff and that Mira's most important duty was to get pregnant, undistracted.

She had argued, fought, tried in countless ways, but it was useless. Only a few limited days each month, after fulfilling her "duty," were granted for her to be with her daughter.

As she stepped out the door, bag in hand, the full weight of her own foolishness settled upon her. How had she ever believed this compromise could lead to peace? She was Kieran's Luna, yet she had been reduced to something less than an omega.

This should never happen again.

She pulled up to Thornfield Estate just before midnight. The house was mostly dark, but Brielle's bedroom window glowed with a soft nightlight.

Mira parked and sat for a moment, gathering her courage. Her daughter. Her baby. The little girl she'd nearly died to bring into this world.

Please, Mira prayed to no one in particular. Please let her still love me.

She got out of the car and walked to the front door, using her key to let herself in quietly. The estate was silent except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer. Mira climbed the stairs to Brielle's room and eased the door open.

Her daughter was still awake, sitting up in bed with a picture book in her lap. At four years old, Brielle was the perfect blend of Mira and Kieran-dark curls from her father, green eyes from her mother, and a serious little face that made her seem older than her years.

"Mommy?" Brielle looked up, surprised. Then her expression shuttered slightly, becoming more guarded. "What are you doing here?"

The question hurt more than it should have. What are you doing here? As if Mira needed a reason to visit her own child.

"I came to see you, sweetheart." Mira moved into the room slowly, not wanting to spook her. "I missed you."

Brielle set her book aside but didn't reach for Mira the way she used to. "Daddy said you were busy working."

Of course he did.

"I was working, but I'm never too busy for you. You know that, right?"

Brielle shrugged, a gesture far too adult for a four-year-old. "Auntie Astrid says you have important things to do. She says that's why she takes care of me now."

Auntie Astrid. The affectionate title made Mira's head spin. So while Kieran had restricted her access, he'd freely allowed his mistress to step into this role? How could he?

A cold, sharp resolve tightened in her chest. The decision she'd made before leaving solidified into something urgent and unshakable.

"Brielle, baby..." Mira sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to crowd her daughter. "I want you to know that I love you more than anything in the world. More than any job, more than anything else. You're the most important thing in my life."

"Then why don't you live here?" Brielle's voice was small, but the accusation in it was clear. "Auntie Astrid lives here. She reads me stories every night and makes my favorite breakfast and plays with me. Where do you go?"

Mira felt something crack in her chest. "I live at the manor with Daddy. But I know I haven't been here as much as I should. That's going to change, I promise."

"Daddy doesn't live at the manor. He lives with Auntie Astrid in the city."

The casual way Brielle said it-as if it were just a normal fact of life-made Mira want to scream. How had she let things get this bad? How had she been so focused on trying to save her marriage that she'd missed her daughter being stolen from her?

"Brielle, I need to ask you something." Mira took a breath. "Do you want a little brother or sister?"

Brielle's face brightened. "I want a brother! Then I could teach him things and play with him."

"And what if Mommy said she was scared to have another baby? That it might be dangerous?"

Brielle's expression changed, became stern in a way that was clearly parroted from adult conversations. "That's selfish, Mommy. You weren't afraid when you had me. Why would you be afraid now?"

The words struck like a physical blow. Four years old, and already wielding guilt like a weapon she'd been taught to use.

"You're right," Mira whispered. "I wasn't afraid then. But things are different now."

Brielle yawned, her small body relaxing back into the pillows. "I'm sleepy."

"Okay, baby. Let me tuck you in."

Mira helped Brielle settle under the covers, stroking her dark curls until her breathing evened out. But just as Mira thought she was asleep, Brielle's eyes fluttered open.

"Mommy? Will you stay tonight?"

"Of course I will."

Mira lay down beside her daughter, holding her close, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. And for a few precious moments, everything else faded away. The betrayal, the pain, the impossible choices ahead-none of it mattered.

Only this. Only Brielle.

But even as she held her daughter, Mira's mind was working. Tomorrow morning she'd call Zara to schedule the appointment. Tomorrow she'd drive to Windmere. Tomorrow she'd end the pregnancy that Kieran saw as just another duty, another risk she could "handle."

Tomorrow she'd start choosing herself.

For tonight, she'd hold her baby and pretend the world wasn't falling apart around them.

But tomorrow, she would begin the fight to secure a future-for herself, and for her daughter.

Tomorrow, she would file for divorce from Alpha Kieran, whatever the cost.

Mira woke to sunlight streaming through Brielle's bedroom window and small feet pressed against her ribs. Brielle was starfished across the bed, covers kicked off, one tiny hand clutching her stuffed wolf.

For a moment, Mira just watched her daughter sleep, memorizing the curve of her cheek, the flutter of her eyelashes. This was what mattered. This tiny person who deserved so much better than parents who'd forgotten how to love each other.

Carefully, Mira extracted herself from the bed and padded downstairs. The estate's kitchen was smaller than the manor's but infinitely warmer, with morning light painting everything gold. She started coffee and found ingredients for Brielle's favorite breakfast-chocolate chip pancakes.

"Luna Mira?"

Mira turned to find Ingrid, one of the estate's staff, in the doorway. The older woman looked surprised but pleased to see her.

"Good morning, Ingrid. I hope you don't mind-I'm making breakfast for Brielle."

"Of course not. It's wonderful to see you." Ingrid hesitated, then added quietly, "We've missed you here."

The simple kindness in those words made Mira's throat tight. "I've missed being here too. That's going to change."

Ingrid smiled and began helping with the pancakes, the two of them falling into easy rhythm. By the time Brielle thundered down the stairs, hair wild and still in her pajamas, the table was set with a stack of pancakes.

"Chocolate chips!" Brielle squealed, the careful guardedness from last night forgotten in the excitement. She climbed into her chair and attacked the pancakes with focused intensity.

Mira sat across from her, sipping coffee and just watching. When had she last done this? Just been present with her daughter, without rushing off to pack duties?

Too long. Far too long.

After breakfast, Mira helped Brielle get dressed-a battle involving a tutu, rain boots, and a princess tiara that Brielle insisted "matched."

"Can we go to the garden?" Brielle asked, tugging on Mira's hand. "I want to show you my fairy house!"

They spent the morning outside, Brielle chattering about everything while Mira helped her arrange pinecones and flowers around the elaborate fairy house construction. The reserve from last night had melted away entirely, and for a few hours, Mira could pretend everything was normal.

But eventually, reality intruded. Her phone buzzed with a message from Fletcher, the estate steward: Luna Mira, Alpha Kieran requests your immediate return.

Mira stared at the message, a flood of familiar reactions washing through her. The old Mira would have been thrilled by his "need," would have rushed to see what he wanted. The woman she was now saw it for what it was: a summons.

She texted back: Tell him I'm with our daughter.

Then she silenced her phone and attempted to put it away. Another message came in, this time from an unknown number: How dare you disrespect the Alpha. Return to the manor immediately.

Selene. Of course.

Mira deleted the message without responding and pocketed her phone.

"Mommy? You okay?" Brielle was watching her with those too-perceptive green eyes.

"I'm perfect, baby." Mira smiled. "Now, tell me more about the fairy queen who lives here..."

They played until lunch, ate sandwiches in the garden, and then Brielle started yawning. Mira carried her inside for a nap, settling her in bed with her stuffed wolf.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" Brielle asked sleepily.

"I'll be here as long as you want me," Mira promised.

She waited until Brielle was deeply asleep, then headed downstairs. She needed to leave soon-the drive to Windmere was two hours, and she'd call Zara from the road to schedule an appointment for later this afternoon.

But when she entered the study, she froze.

Selene Ravencrest sat in the chair behind the desk, spine straight, hands folded, radiating disapproval like a cold front.

"Luna Mira." Her voice could have frozen water. "How kind of you to finally appear."

Mira's first instinct was to apologize, to explain, to make herself smaller. Four years of conditioning died hard.

But then she remembered: She can handle that risk again.

"Selene." Mira kept her voice level. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to discuss your recent behavior." Selene stood, and despite being shorter than Mira, she had a way of looming. "Leaving the manor after your duty without permission. Ignoring my messages. This is unacceptable."

"I don't need permission to visit my daughter."

"You need to remember your place." Selene's voice sharpened. "Your duty is to produce an heir, not to play house whenever the mood strikes you."

Something dark and hot flared in Mira's chest. "My place? My duty? Is that all I am to this family? A womb that occasionally gets to visit her own child?"

"Watch your tone-"

"No." The word came out harder than Mira intended. "No, I'm done watching my tone. I'm done being quiet and dutiful while my husband keeps a mistress and you all decide I'm not important enough to include in my daughter's life."

Selene's face flushed with anger. "How dare you speak to me this way. You forget that I am the former Luna of this pack-"

"And I am the current Luna." Mira stepped forward. "Or have you forgotten that?"

"You are Luna in name only," Selene hissed. "You've failed to provide a male heir. You're barely present in pack matters. The pack deserves better. Kieran deserves better."

"Then maybe Kieran should divorce me and marry Astrid." The words came out before Mira could stop them. "Maybe she'd be happy to be reduced to a breeding vessel."

Selene's hand moved so fast Mira barely saw it coming. The slap cracked across her face, snapping her head to the side.

"You will kneel," Selene commanded. "You will apologize, and you will remember your place."

Mira touched her stinging cheek, tasting blood where her teeth had cut the inside of her mouth. If this had been any moment in the last five years, she would have dropped to her knees immediately.

But that Mira was dead.

Mira raised her own hand, steady and without hesitation.

"Mira." The new voice froze them both.

Kieran stood in the doorway, still in his suit. His eyes were cold, his jaw tight as he took in the scene. He strode forward and caught Mira's wrist before her palm could connect with Selene's face.

"That's enough," he said quietly.

For a wild moment, Mira thought he might be defending her. Then he shoved her arm away like it disgusted him.

"Control yourself," Kieran said, contempt dripping from his voice. "I'm not in the mood for your dramatics today."

He turned to his mother, his expression softening. "Mother, I apologize for my wife's behavior. Why don't you wait for me in the car? I'll handle this."

Selene smoothed her skirt, shot Mira a triumphant look, and swept from the room.

Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating. Kieran ran a hand through his hair, gold bleeding into his eyes.

"What the hell was that?"

"That was me refusing to be hit anymore," Mira said flatly.

"She's my mother-"

"And I'm your wife!" The words exploded out of her. "Or have you forgotten that between your breeding appointments and your cozy nights with Astrid?"

Kieran's jaw clenched. "Watch it, Mira."

"Or what? You'll stop pretending I exist entirely?" Mira laughed bitterly. "You can't threaten me with something I already have."

"I don't have time for this." He checked his watch. "We can discuss your attitude later. Right now, I have-"

"I want a divorce."

The words hung in the air between them, stark and final.

Kieran went utterly still. His gaze sharpened.

"What did you say?"

The sheer force of his Alpha presence rolled over her, but Mira dug her heels in, refusing to yield. She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze head-on.

"I. Want. A. Divorce."

For a moment, she saw a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes-a predator recognizing a threat. Before he could say anything, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and something in his expression shifted-softened in a way it never did for Mira.

"I have to take this," he said curtly.

"Kieran-"

But he was already answering. "Hey. Yeah, I'm handling it now. No, it's fine. I'll be there soon." A pause, then quieter: "I know. Me too."

He ended the call and finally looked at Mira again, but it was like looking at a stranger. There was nothing in his eyes-no anger, no hurt, no recognition that she'd just asked to end their marriage.

Just impatience.

"We'll discuss this later," he said dismissively. "I have to go. There's an important matter that requires my attention."

He turned toward the door.

"Kieran, I'm serious. I want a divorce."

He paused but didn't turn around. "No, you don't. You're upset. You'll calm down, and we'll talk about this rationally next month."

Then he was gone, his footsteps echoing through the estate, the front door closing with finality.

Mira stood alone in the study, her cheek still burning, her wrist aching, her chest hollow with the realization that she'd just asked for a divorce and her husband couldn't even be bothered to acknowledge it.

She pulled out her phone and checked the time. If she left now, she'd make it to Windmere before late afternoon. She could call Zara from the road.

Mira grabbed her bag and walked toward the front door. At the top of the stairs, she paused outside Brielle's room. Her daughter was still sleeping peacefully, clutching her stuffed wolf.

"I love you," Mira whispered. "I'm so sorry for everything. But Mommy needs to take care of herself now. I promise I'll come back. I promise I'll be better."

She kissed her fingertips and pressed them to the doorframe, then turned and walked away.

The drive to Windmere passed in a blur of tears and determination. Halfway there, she called Zara.

"Mira? Is everything okay?"

"No." Mira's voice was steady despite the tears streaming down her face. "Can you see me this afternoon? I need... I need your help with something."

"Of course. Come straight to my office when you get here."

By the time Mira pulled up to the medical center, her face was dry and her resolve was steel.

Zara was waiting in her office, concern etched across her features. She took one look at Mira and pulled her into a fierce hug.

"Tell me what you need," Zara said.

"I need to end a pregnancy," Mira said quietly. "And I need to end a marriage. Can you help me with the first part?"

Zara pulled back, searching Mira's face. "Are you sure? Your body hasn't fully recovered, MiraThis will hurt. You could wait until things are more settled-"

"I can't wait," Mira's hands clenched into fists. "Once Kieran knows I'm pregnant, he will never let me go."

"Mira." Zara's face was a mask of pain. "The cost is so high. Are you certain.?"

"I've never been more certain of anything in my life," Mira's voice didn't waver.

Zara sighed, then nodded slowly. "Okay. Let's get you prepped."

Mira spent three days recovering at Zara's apartment in Windmere. Three days of sleeping, healing, and slowly piecing herself back together. Her body recovered quickly-werewolf healing saw to that. But the emotional wounds ran deeper.

On the morning of the fourth day, Mira woke feeling clearheaded for the first time in years. She made coffee, stood at Zara's window watching the city wake up, and felt something she hadn't felt in so long she'd almost forgotten what it was called.

Hope.

"You look better," Zara said, appearing in the kitchen doorway in her scrubs. "Almost human again."

"I feel better." Mira turned to face her friend. "Thank you. For everything. For not judging me."

"Never." Zara poured herself coffee. "What you did took courage. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Kieran will see it differently."

"Kieran can go to hell." Zara's voice was sharp. "He lost the right to have opinions about your body when he started treating you like livestock."

Mira managed a weak smile. "I need to go back. Not to the manor-I can't face that yet. But to the estate. I need to see Brielle."

"Are you sure you're ready?"

"No. But I need to try."

An hour later, Mira was on the road back to Ravencrest territory. Her hands were steady on the wheel, her mind clear. She'd made her choice. Now she had to live with it.

And she had to figure out how to be Brielle's mother from whatever distance Kieran would allow.

The estate looked exactly the same as when she'd left it three days ago. Warm stone, blooming gardens, the picture of peaceful domesticity. Mira parked and sat for a moment, gathering her courage.

Then she heard it. Laughter. High and bright and coming from the back garden.

Mira got out of the car and walked around the side of the house. Through the garden gate, she could see Brielle playing on the grass, chasing butterflies in her princess dress.

But she wasn't alone.

Astrid Sinclair sat on a blanket in the shade, watching Brielle with a soft smile. She wore casual clothes that probably cost more than Mira's car, her blonde hair perfect even in the outdoor breeze.

She looked like she belonged there.

Mira's hand tightened on the gate. This was her home. Her daughter. Her life that this woman had stolen piece by piece.

"Mommy!"

Brielle had spotted her. The little girl ran over, and for a moment, Mira's heart soared-until Brielle stopped a few feet away, suddenly uncertain.

"You came back," Brielle said, and it sounded almost like an accusation.

"Of course I came back. I told you I would."

"But you left without saying goodbye." Brielle's lower lip trembled. "You were here when I went to sleep, and then you were gone."

Guilt crashed over Mira. "I'm sorry, baby. I had to take care of something important. But I'm here now."

"Mira." Astrid had stood, brushing grass from her designer jeans. "What a surprise. Kieran didn't mention you'd be visiting today."

The casual way she said his name-Kieran, not the Alpha or your husband-made Mira's blood boil.

"I don't need his permission to see my daughter."

"Of course not." Astrid's smile was poisonously sweet. "I just meant it would have been nice to know. We have such a busy schedule-Brielle has ballet in an hour, don't you, sweetie?"

"Ballet?" Mira looked at her daughter. "Since when do you take ballet?"

"Auntie Astrid signed me up!" Brielle brightened. "It's so fun. We get to wear tutus and everything."

"I thought it would be good for her," Astrid explained, moving closer to Brielle in a subtle but clear claiming gesture. "She has so much energy, and the discipline is good for young wolves. Kieran agreed it was a wonderful idea."

Of course he did. Because Astrid suggested it.

"Brielle, can I talk to you alone for a minute?" Mira asked.

Brielle glanced at Astrid, and that look-that automatic checking for permission-made Mira want to scream.

"It's okay," Astrid said graciously. "I'll go make us some lemonade. You talk to your mommy."

She walked toward the estate, and Mira noticed she moved with the confidence of someone who knew where everything was. Because she'd been living here. In Mira's space. With Mira's daughter.

"Come sit with me, Brielle." Mira settled on the blanket Astrid had vacated.

Brielle sat down but maintained a careful distance. When had her daughter started treating her like a stranger?

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Mira began carefully. "How would you feel about coming to stay with Mommy for a while?"

Brielle's face scrunched up. "But I live here."

"I know, but-"

"And Auntie Astrid is here. And all my stuff. And my ballet class."

"We could find you a ballet class wherever we go."

"But I like my class. I like my teacher." Brielle picked at the grass. "Why can't you just stay here with us?"

Us. Her and Astrid. Not her and Mira.

"It's complicated, baby."

"That's what grown-ups always say when they don't want to tell you the truth." Brielle looked up with those too-wise eyes. "Are you and Daddy getting divorced?"

The question stunned Mira. "How do you know that word?"

"Auntie Astrid explained it. She said sometimes mommies and daddies don't love each other anymore, so they live in different houses."

"What else did Auntie Astrid say?"

Brielle bit her lip. "She said you're very busy with important work. And that Daddy needs someone to take care of him and me. And that she's happy to help because she loves us very much."

Each word was a knife. Astrid had been preparing Brielle. Planting seeds. Making herself indispensable while painting Mira as the absent career woman who'd abandoned her family.

"Brielle, I want you to understand something." Mira took her daughter's small hands. "I love you more than anything in the world. More than any job, more than anyone else. You are the most important thing in my life."

"Then why are you always gone?"

"Because-" Mira's voice caught. How did she explain pack politics and toxic marriages and systematic isolation to a four-year-old? "Because sometimes grown-ups make mistakes. And I made a mistake by not being here enough. But I want to fix that."

"Auntie Astrid is here. She reads me stories and plays dress-up and makes my favorite foods." Brielle pulled her hands away. "She's nice to me all the time. You're always sad or busy."

"I know, baby. I know I haven't been the mommy you deserved. But I want to try-"

"Lemonade!" Astrid emerged from the estate with a tray, all gracious hostess energy. "I hope you don't mind, Mira. I added those little mint leaves Brielle loves."

She set the tray down and poured three glasses with practiced ease. Brielle immediately reached for hers.

"Thank you, Auntie Astrid!"

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Astrid settled beside Brielle, and the little girl immediately leaned into her.

Mira watched them, feeling like an outsider at her own daughter's tea party.

"So," Astrid said brightly. "Kieran mentioned you had some concerns about Brielle's care? I want you to know I take my responsibilities very seriously. I've been keeping detailed notes about her schedule, her preferences, even her growth measurements."

"Your responsibilities?" Mira's voice came out cold. "She's not your daughter."

"Of course not." Astrid's smile didn't waver. "But Kieran asked me to step in while you were... occupied with other matters. And I've grown quite attached. Haven't we, Brielle?"

"I love Auntie Astrid," Brielle declared. "She's going to take me to Everwood Academy next month! All my friends go there."

"Everwood?" Mira's stomach dropped. "That's in the city."

"Well, yes." Astrid sipped her lemonade delicately. "It's the best kindergarten in the region. And since Brielle will be spending more time in the city apartment with Kieran and me, it makes sense."

"Excuse me?"

"Didn't Kieran tell you?" Astrid's eyes glittered with false innocence. "We've worked out a new arrangement. Brielle will split her time between here and the city. That way she can be closer to her father, and I can ensure she gets the best education."

"You can't just take my daughter to live with you."

"I'm not taking her anywhere. Kieran is. He's her father, after all. He has just as much right to decide where she lives as you do." Astrid set down her glass. "Besides, Brielle wants to go. Don't you, sweetie?"

Brielle nodded eagerly. "Daddy's apartment has a pool! And Auntie Astrid said I can have my own room with a princess bed!"

Mira felt the ground shifting beneath her. This was it. This was Astrid's endgame. She wasn't just stealing Kieran-she was stealing Brielle too. Creating a perfect little family unit that had no room for Mira.

"No." Mira stood abruptly. "Absolutely not. Brielle stays here."

"That's not really your decision to make alone," Astrid said calmly. "You'd need to discuss it with Kieran. And I think you'll find he's already made up his mind."

"We'll see about that."

Mira pulled out her phone and called Kieran. It went straight to voicemail. She tried again. Same result.

"He's in meetings all afternoon," Astrid offered helpfully. "But he should be here around six. He's taking Brielle and me to dinner at that new Italian place. You're welcome to join us if you'd like."

The casual cruelty of it-inviting Mira to watch them play happy family-took her breath away.

"Mommy, are you okay?" Brielle looked worried now. "Your eyes are glowing."

Mira realized her wolf was close to the surface, rage and grief making control difficult. She forced herself to breathe, to push the wolf down.

"I'm fine, baby." But her voice shook. "I just need to talk to Daddy about some things."

"He'll be here soon," Astrid said, checking her watch. "Why don't you stay? We can all have a civilized conversation."

Civilized. As if there was anything civilized about this woman systematically dismantling Mira's life.

"Brielle," Mira crouched down to her daughter's level. "I need you to know something. No matter what happens, no matter where you live or who you're with, I am your mother. I will always be your mother. And I love you. Okay?"

Brielle nodded uncertainly. "Okay."

Mira kissed her daughter's forehead, breathing in her scent, memorizing it. Then she stood and walked toward the estate.

"Where are you going?" Astrid called after her.

"To wait for my husband."

Mira went inside and positioned herself in the living room where she could see the driveway. If Kieran thought he could move their daughter to the city to live with his mistress without even discussing it with her, he had another thing coming.

An hour passed. Then two. Mira sat in the growing darkness, watching shadows lengthen across the floor.

Finally, at seven-an hour late-Kieran's SUV pulled into the drive.

But he wasn't alone.