chapter 1

Zelda's POV

“Zelda, for the last time, you and Claus are healthy,” Doctor Ray stated, his voice a calm tide against the storm brewing inside me. “But if you continue taking unprescribed drugs and engaging in… intimate relations, it will affect you.”

His words, usually a dull thrum in the background of my anxieties, suddenly struck a chord. I remembered that night vividly. The doctor’s previous warning had echoed in my mind as Claus pulled me closer, his eyes alight with desire. I had pulled back, muttering something about not feeling well and about the doctor’s advice.

He’d stormed off, a dark cloud of anger and I, ever the fool in love, had run after him, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs. And then I saw it. A scene that played on an endless loop in the darkest corners of my mind, a tormenting film I wished I could rewind and erase.

My eyes, please let them play tricks on me. Claus kissing Freya, his beta’s sister. Freya, who he’d insisted on making his assistant, brushed off my unease with reassurances with sweet words of unwavering love.

A hollow ache settled in my chest, a familiar companion since my mother disappeared during the war. I had learned to be alone, to hope in solitude. Then Claus came like a beacon of warmth and affection, showering me with the love and attention I’d craved. I couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not when he was so desperate for an heir, a child to secure his ascent to the throne. If he didn't, his uncle, Bane would claim it, even if it rightfully belonged to him. Claus wanted to be the next alpha, just like his father. And I, his mate and his partner were willing to do anything to help him achieve that.

"Doctor Ray," I interrupted, my voice sharp, cutting through his medical monologue, "instead of telling me to stop having sex with my husband, you should be helping me. Give me something, medications for my fertile days. I feel them approaching, I really do."

He sighed, a weary sound. "Zelda, you were just discharged from the hospital a few days ago. Your condition… too much stress will only hinder, not help."

My patience, already thin, snapped. "I understand, Doctor. But I'd like to leave now."

He didn’t argue, simply handed me a pregnancy test. I didn’t even bother opening it. For the umpteenth time, I knew I wasn't pregnant. I took the test, muttering a begrudging thank you and walked out.

The taxi ride to Claus's office was a blur. I clung to the hope that he would, as always, be my comfort and my safe harbor in this storm of vulnerability. The familiar scent of his office filled my nostrils as I walked past the empty assistant's desk, heading straight for his door.

But then I heard whispers. Strange, unsettling whispers emanating from within. A feminine giggle, light and airy, undeniably Freya’s. My curiosity uncoiled in my gut like a dangerous serpent. I leaned closer, straining to hear and then, the unmistakable sounds. Moans and grunts.I froze in shock, fear and disbelief. My world tilted on its axis.

"You feel so good, Freya," Claus's voice, husky and content, echoed from inside.

Freya laughed a triumphant, mocking sound. "Is Zelda, your mate, not better?"

The air in my lungs hitched. My heart hammered against my ribs, a trapped bird desperate to escape.

"Zelda?" Claus scoffed, his voice laced with contempt. "Zelda is anything but better. She’s weak, incapable. Even carrying my child is a burden to her. And now she dares to add weight, eating my food, enjoying a life of luxury without contributing anything and without doing something as simple as giving me a child."

They laughed, a cruel, echoing sound that shattered the last vestiges of my hope.

I stumbled back, horror of a cold wave washing over me. My world crashed down around me... it was too much. Too overwhelming. I immediately ran out of that office and out of that building while reeling in fear and disbelief. The pieces clicked into place, a sickening mosaic of deception. I should have suspected him the moment he stopped… stopped caring, stopped trying, stopped loving me. To think this had been happening way before we became mates.

I wandered aimlessly, the streets a blur of motion until I found myself in a dimly lit bar. One drink then another and another. Each swallow was a desperate attempt to drown the pain, to find solace in the burn of the alcohol. The world spun. My toes felt numb. I stood to leave, swayed but strong arms came around me before I could fall. I looked up, my vision blurry only to find a pair of piercing blue eyes staring down at me, alight with curiosity.

He was utterly handsome, and so familiar, yet I couldn't quite place him. His masculine scent, a heady mix of spice and something uniquely his own, was tempting. Without thinking, I wrapped my hands around his neck, leaning in to kiss him.

He turned his face away, his jaw clenching. "Let me take you home."

"No!" I cried, the word tearing from my throat. "I don't want to go back home."

He raised a brow. "Lover's quarrel?"

How did he know? Had I said it aloud? Was it that obvious, the wreckage of my heart etched across my face? He pulled away, and I stumbled before catching myself on the counter. Rage, hot and bitter, surged through me.

"More than a lover's quarrel!" I spat, my voice hoarse. "I just discovered my mate has been cheating and lying to me! My mate! After everything I did for him, taking drugs that affected my health, that made me add weight, only for him to mock me while cheating on me! I was just discharged from the hospital, and he doesn’t even know!"

The words spilled out, a torrent of pain and humiliation. Realizing I was saying too much, I abruptly stopped, breathing heavily. Relief and exhaustion washed over me, the weight of my secrets momentarily lifted. I turned to leave, my legs like jelly. I was about to fall again when those strong arms were around me, sweeping me off my feet. I looked up, my eyes meeting his. His face was cold, yet his eyes were soft, a surprising tenderness in their depths. I leaned against his chest, feeling a strange sense of safety I hadn't felt in what felt like forever.

"I don't want to go home," I whispered, the words barely audible. His jaw clenched but he said nothing. He just held me. And in that moment, for the first time in hours, I felt a flicker of something other than despair.

He carried me up the stairs, and when we reached a room, I couldn’t hear the loud music anymore. The moment we entered the room, the tension between us was too much to ignore and the alcohol was a drug I couldn't resist. He gently set me back on my feet. I leaned forward to whisper in ear, my hand still wrapped around his neck. “Kiss me.”

“What?” he said, his demeanor composed but that amused smile never left his face.

“I... want... you... to... kiss... me,” I whispered, running a hand down his lips.

“You’re drunk. You should get going before your mate becomes worried,” he said, trying to push me away, but I ran a hand down his chest, heading toward his belt. He caught my hand before it could go any further.

“Make love to me,” I whispered into his ear.

“What did you say?” his eyes narrowed with uncertainty and disbelief.

“I want you to make love to me,” I said louder. He quickly covered my mouth. His eyes were blazing now.

"Be careful of what you ask for," he warned but before I could process his words, he began pressing slow kisses along my neck. My hand was already on his briefs, and his bulge was clearly visible. I knew he could feel the tension between us.

“Yes, please.” I pleaded, feeling the consuming desire that left my toes curling against the silk sheet.

Soon clothes were thrown carelessly on the floor. Teeth against teeth, lips pressed together and tongue playing tags until we were breathless, needy and wanting each other like one would long for air.

His cock was pressed against my entrance, heightening the sensation that washed over me like lava.

“Do you still want this,” he asked in a whisper, his voice hoarse and laced with unsuppressed need.

“Yes,” it came out in a breathless whisper, the bed threatening to collapse beneath our weight. Slowly he slid his fingers inside of me, my wetness made it easy to penetrate and he thrust in and out, slowly as if testing me, preparing me for what was about to come.

My back arched, earning a groan against my neck. “Hope you don't regret this,” was his last warning before he claimed me.

The bed creaked but didn't break, harsh breath mixed with throaty moans filled the room as flesh slapped against flesh. I thought I'd pass out with the amount of pleasure coursing through me as each thrust brought me painstakingly close to my release.

In all my life, I'd never felt this much pleasure, not even from my cheating mate. One hard, long thrust had me crying out in pleasure, stars exploding while my pulse raced. It felt like falling off a cliff.

His thrust remained relentless, fast and hard as he reached for his own release. And when he did, his weight nearly crushed me but he propped himself up with his elbow. His eyes searched mine and I saw a flicker of something unknown but strangely familiar.

It felt like recognition as the air shifted around us. I could feel something changing as the silence reigned with the only audible sound coming from my racing heart.

Before I could tell what it was, he leaned forward. The sharp edge of his fangs peeked from his lips and soon I felt a sharp pain as he buried his fangs into my flesh, marking me as his.