Chapter 9

The next three weeks were a masterclass in avoidance.

I arrived at headquarters early, before Lucian got to his office. I left late, after his car had pulled away from the building. When I needed to deliver reports or intelligence updates, I sent them through Margot or via encrypted email.

The few times I saw him in the hallways, I turned and walked the other direction.

Cowardly? Absolutely.

Necessary? Without question.

My wolf had been sulking since the night of the party. She pressed against my consciousness with longing and confusion, whimpering every time she caught his scent in the building.

“Alpha,” she would whisper. “Need Alpha. Why run?”

Because we had to.

Because being near him was dangerous. Because one look from those amber eyes and my resolve would crumble. Because I could still feel his hands on my skin, his body inside mine, his teeth marking my shoulder.

I threw myself into work with obsessive focus. Analyzed security protocols. Reviewed personnel files. Tracked potential threats from rival packs. Anything to keep my mind occupied.

Julian became my primary contact for field intelligence. He asked no questions about why I never attended meetings with Lucian anymore, just provided the information I needed with his usual quiet efficiency.

“You look tired,” he said one afternoon, finding me in the archives. “When was the last time you slept?”

“I sleep.”

“When? You’re here before dawn and you leave after dark.” He leaned against the desk. “Even wolves need rest, Aurelia.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re avoiding someone.” His tone was gentle, not accusatory. “Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Fair enough.” He pushed off the desk. “But whatever happened, you can’t avoid it forever. This pack is not big enough for permanent evasion.”

He was right, of course.

Two days later, I was working in my office when Margot knocked on the door.

“Miss Sinclair? The Alpha Heir would like to see you.”

My stomach dropped. “Tell him I’m busy.”

“He said it’s urgent. Pack business, not personal.”

Pack business. Professional. I could handle professional.

“Fine. Tell him I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Margot nodded and left.

I took those ten minutes to compose myself. Splashed cold water on my face in the bathroom. Straightened my clothes. Built walls around the part of me screaming to run to him.

When I finally walked to his office, my expression was neutral. Controlled.

I knocked.

“Come in.”

I opened the door.

Lucian sat behind his desk, reviewing documents. He looked up when I entered, and something flashed in his eyes. Pain? Anger? I couldn’t tell before his expression shuttered.

“Close the door,” he said, his voice professional.

I obeyed, staying near the exit.

“You asked to see me?”

“Yes. We received another communication from Shadowmere.” He slid a folder across the desk. “I need your analysis.”

I approached the desk, careful to maintain distance. Picked up the folder without our fingers touching. Opened it.

The message inside was more aggressive than previous threats. Direct challenges to pack authority. References to upcoming territorial negotiations.

“They’re escalating,” I said.

“I know. What I need to know is why now.” His tone was clipped. All business. “What changed?”

“They’re testing boundaries. Seeing if the attack weakened your position.” I flipped through the supporting documents. “The timing suggests they’re planning something larger. Using these communications to distract while they prepare.”

“Recommendations?”

“Increase intelligence gathering. Plant sources in their territory if possible. Monitor their pack movements closely.” I set the folder back on his desk. “And prepare for another attack. A bigger one.”

“Understood.” He made notes on a pad. “I’ll implement these immediately.”

Silence fell between us. Heavy and awkward.

“Is this all?” I asked.

“No.” He set down his pen and looked at me directly. “We need to talk about what happened.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Aurelia—”

“It was a mistake. We’ve established this. Can we please move on?” I turned toward the door.

“I can’t move on.” His voice stopped me. “I’ve tried. For three weeks, I’ve tried. And I can’t.”

My hand gripped the door handle. “This is not my problem.”

“Isn’t it? You’re the one running. You’re the one pretending nothing happened between us.”

“Because nothing did.” I forced the words out. “We had sex. You’ve had sex with dozens of women. This is not special.”

“Stop lying.” Anger crept into his tone now. “To me. To yourself. What we shared was—”

“Was what? Meaningful?” I turned to face him, letting all my carefully controlled emotion show. “You have women in this office weekly. Sometimes daily. You had one giving you oral sex hours before we had sex. What makes me different? What makes this anything other than another conquest?”

He stood, his hands flat on the desk. “You know the answer to this.”

“I don’t. Enlighten me.”

“Because I feel something when I’m with you. Something I’ve never felt with anyone else. Something that terrifies me as much as it terrifies you.”

“I’m not terrified. I’m realistic.” I crossed my arms. “You’re a playboy Alpha who will never commit to anyone. I’m a tracker here on a temporary contract. We had sex once. It’s over.”

“You don’t believe this.”

“I do.”

“Then look me in the eye and tell me you felt nothing. Tell me it was just sex. Tell me you don’t think about this every night the way I do.” He moved around the desk, closing the distance between us. “Tell me, Aurelia.”

I met his gaze. Saw the raw honesty there. The vulnerability he rarely showed.

And I lied.

“It was just sex. I felt nothing. I don’t think about you.”

Something broke in his expression. The hope I hadn’t realized was there died.

“Fine.” His voice was flat now. Empty. “Then we’ll keep this professional. You’ll report to me through Margot. We’ll interact only when necessary for pack business. This is what you want.”

“It is.”

“Good.” He walked back to his desk, sitting down and returning his attention to the documents. “You can go.”

I left before the tears could fall.

The days continued. The avoidance became routine. My wolf stopped whimpering and started growling. Angry at me for denying what she knew we both wanted.

I ignored her.

Focused on work. On security. On anything except the ache in my chest that wouldn’t go away.

Then, one morning, I woke up violently ill.

I barely made it to the bathroom before vomiting. My whole body shook. Sweat dripped down my face despite the cool temperature.

Food poisoning, I told myself. Something I ate.

But it happened again the next morning. And the next.

On the fourth day, I noticed other changes. My breasts were tender. My sense of smell was heightened beyond normal wolf senses. I was exhausted despite sleeping ten hours a night.

No.

No, no, no.

I refused to consider the possibility. Refused to acknowledge what my body was telling me.

But on the seventh morning of waking up sick, I finally admitted I needed to see a healer.

I made an appointment at a clinic outside pack territory. Somewhere no one would know me. Somewhere the information would stay private.

The healer was a kind older woman with gentle hands and knowing eyes.

“Let’s run some tests,” she said after I described my symptoms.

I sat in the examination room, my leg bouncing with nervous energy, while she took blood samples and ran diagnostics.

Fifteen minutes later, she returned with a tablet showing test results.

And a smile.

“Congratulations,” she said warmly. “You’re pregnant. About five weeks along.”

The words hit me like a physical blow.

Pregnant.

Five weeks.

The timeline matched perfectly with the night of the party. The night on the balcony. The night I’d given in to everything I’d been fighting.

“Are you sure?” My voice came out hoarse.

“Positive. The hormone levels are clear. You’re definitely expecting.” She sat down across from me. “Is this good news? You look pale.”

Good news?

My world was collapsing.

I was pregnant with Lucian’s child.

“I need to go,” I said, standing on shaky legs.

“Wait, we should discuss prenatal care, nutrition, what to expect—”

“I’ll come back.” The lie came easily. “I just need time to process.”

I left the clinic in a daze.

Pregnant.

With Lucian’s child.

The man I’d told meant nothing to me. The man I’d been running from. The man whose scent alone made my wolf howl with longing.

I sat in my car in the parking lot, staring at nothing.

What was I going to do?

Tell him? Watch his expression change from shock to obligation? Watch him offer to “do the right thing” out of duty rather than desire?

Hide it? Impossible. Wolf pregnancies showed faster than human ones. I’d be visibly pregnant within weeks.

Leave? Break my contract and disappear before anyone noticed?

My hands went to my still-flat stomach.

A baby. Lucian’s baby.

Part of me wanted to cry. Part of me wanted to scream. Part of me wanted to drive straight to his office and tell him everything.

But mostly, I just felt terrified.

Because everything I’d been running from, everything I’d been denying, was about to become undeniably, irrevocably real.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​