Chapter 5

When I woke, the curtains were closed and the glass beside my bed was empty.

A nurse eventually came in.

“What date is it?” I asked.

She told me.

Not many days left.

Darian appeared two days later.

“Why did you push Vera?”

“She told you that?”

“I saw her fall.”

“You saw me hanging there, too.”

He hesitated.

“You walked past me,” I said. “I called your name.”

“The situation was urgent. She fell first.”

I turned toward the wall.

“Vera says things without thinking,” he continued. “But you shouldn’t have touched her. We’re putting this behind us.”

“Fine.”

He seemed unsettled by how easily I agreed.

“You used to argue.”

Once, I’d wanted him to believe me.

Now I wanted him to leave.

Instead, he sat down.

“Mother thinks Vera should carry a child for us.”

I turned back.

“I won’t touch her,” he added quickly. “The doctors can use our embryo. Your body can’t safely carry a pregnancy, but they may still retrieve eggs.”

“When did you discuss this?”

He didn’t answer.

The plans were already prepared.

“I don’t consent.”

“Vera has agreed to do this for you.”

“For me?”

Pain caught as I pushed upright.

“Who made my body like this?”

“Leah, we need to think about the future.”

“Then cancel it.”

I looked directly at him.

“Tell the doctors I said no.”

He said nothing.

The door opened.

Medical staff were waiting.

I reached for the call button.

Darian caught my wrist.

“You’re too upset.”

Medication entered the line.

My vision blurred as he tucked the blanket around me.

“Sleep. It’ll be over soon.”

It wasn’t.

Preparations and examinations followed. Every refusal was answered with instructions to cooperate.

Outside the procedure room, Vera wore his jacket.

“I’ll take good care of his baby,” she told me.

Not ours.

His.

Darian didn’t correct her.

Inside, the medication didn’t put me to sleep.

Every sensation sharpened into pain.

I told the nurse something was wrong.

“Endure it.”

When I lost consciousness, she roused me.

“Miss Blackthorne said you need to experience the entire procedure.”

Darian eventually came in.

“Why is she in so much pain?”

He checked the medication and sighed.

“Vera. Why would she replace it with this?”

Tears ran into my hair.

“Change it.”

He looked at the procedure already underway.

Then he touched my forehead.

“Just a little longer.”

That was the last time I asked him to save me.

He knew it hurt.

He simply believed I could bear it.

After two hours, I had no strength left to cry.

He picked up a damp cloth.

A knock interrupted him.

“Vera’s frightened. She needs you.”

“I’m coming.”

He set the cloth down untouched.

During the following week, he stayed with her.

She sent a photograph of herself in his arms.

I asked for a garbage bag.

Jewelry. Shawls. Anniversary gifts.

At the bottom lay our wedding photograph.

I turned it facedown.

When my medical team cleared me to remove the leg support, I did it without calling him.

Standing hurt.

I stood anyway.

Vera then sent a positive pregnancy result.

The dates didn’t fit.

This time, I saved it instead of asking Darian to explain.

While collecting my own medical records, I found other documents mixed among them.

One was a DNA report.

I kept that, too.

No confrontation.

No chance for him to destroy the evidence.

Darian liked her pregnancy announcement.

I blocked him.

Deleted our messages.

Closed my old accounts.

I discharged myself and packed.

Everything that truly belonged to me fit into one suitcase.

In a bedside notebook, I found his favorite meals, medication reminders, and the plans I’d made for our anniversary.

I called the restaurant.

“Would you like to reschedule?” they asked.

“No.”

On our anniversary, the final documents arrived.

Marriage dissolved.

Mate registration withdrawn.

Luna status terminated.

I placed his copies in a white envelope on his bedside table.

He only had to look.

As I reached the front door, he came in carrying two enormous bags.

“Leah? When were you discharged?”

“A few days ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He didn’t wait for an answer.

“Vera’s moving in. Her morning sickness is bad. Have her room redecorated.”

Inside the bags, I saw supplements, baby supplies, and a parenting book marked with colored tabs.

He could remember someone’s needs.

Just never mine.

“You know her habits,” he continued. “You can look after her.”

“All right.”

He stared.

“You don’t object?”

“You’ve already decided.”

His expression softened.

“I’m glad you understand. We can finally be a proper family.”

I looked past him toward the daylight.

“Going out?” he asked.

“To buy a few things.”

“Don’t be late.”

Behind me, he began instructing the servants about Vera’s bedding.

I stepped over the threshold.

I didn’t look back.

An hour later, I stood at the airport.

My boarding pass lay inside my passport.

I opened the final encrypted folder.

The video Darian had filmed.

Hundreds of medical reports.

Scans of records he thought he had destroyed.

The DNA report that could strip Vera of her last protection.

I sent everything to the Northreach Investigative Bureau.

Copies went to several rival packs.

Delivery confirmations appeared one by one.

I checked every recipient before closing the screen.

For years, I had tried to prove I wasn’t lying.

That I hurt.

That the injuries weren’t accidents.

That Vera wasn’t innocent.

I didn’t need his permission anymore.

The boarding announcement sounded.

I put away my phone and closed my aching hand around my suitcase handle.

For once, I knew exactly where I was going.

They thought destroying paper could erase what they had done.

But from this moment on, Darian couldn’t touch the evidence.

He couldn’t touch me, either.

They were going to taste the hell I had survived.

A thousand times over.

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