chapter 4

Zelda's POV

The air in the Blackwood estate didn’t smell like the heavy, suffocating cologne and expensive cigars of Claus’s penthouse. Here, it smelled of cedar, old books, and the sharp, ozone crispness of a coming storm.

I stood in the center of the foyer, my fingers white-knuckled around the strap of my single duffel bag. I had left everything else behind—the jewelry Claus bought me, the dresses that were too tight, the life that was a lie.

Bane stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his silhouette cutting a jagged, lethal line against the twilight. He didn’t look at me as a lover would. He didn’t even look at me as a person. He looked at me like a strategist looks at a winning piece on a chessboard.

"The East Wing is yours," he said, his voice a low, melodic vibration. "It has its own entrance, a private library, and a medical suite. My staff has been briefed. You are not to be disturbed unless you request company."

"And the credit card?" I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. "You’re just handing me a blank check?"

Bane finally turned. Those piercing blue eyes moved over me, cold and analytical. "You are the vessel of the future, Zelda. The heir you carry is the only things that stand between this territory and the madness Claus would bring to it. I don’t care what you spend. I care that you are fed, safe, and silent."

Vessel.

The word stung, a sharp contrast to the green flag behavior he’d shown since rescuing me. He wasn't a tyrant; he was something far more efficient. He was a protector who didn't feel the need to pretend he liked the person he was protecting.

"I’m not a prisoner," I reminded him, repeating his own words back to him.

"You are free to leave the moment the child is born and the succession is secure," Bane said, stepping closer. The scent of rain and sandalwood intensified, making my wolf stir uncomfortably in my chest. "But understand this: Claus will not stop. He doesn't want you back because he loves you. He wants you back because you are the key to the throne he thinks is his birthright. To him, you are a trophy. To me, you are a necessity."

He didn't wait for a thank you. He simply gestured for a maid to show me to my quarters.

The following days was a blur of high-end linens and clinical precision. Bane was rarely seen, yet his presence was everywhere. Every morning, a tray appeared with exactly what I was craving, green apples, ginger tea, and protein-rich meats. He never asked what I wanted, yet he somehow knew.

It was a quiet, terrifyingly efficient brand of care. Then came the first ultrasound.

The Pack doctor, a grey-haired man named Dr. Vance, stared at the monitor for a long time, his breath hitching. I gripped the sides of the table, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Is something wrong?" I whispered.

Bane, who stood in the corner of the room like a gargoyle, moved to the bedside. He didn't touch my hand, but he loomed over the screen, his gaze intense.

"Not wrong," Dr. Vance breathed, pointing to the screen. "Extraordinary."

On the grainy black-and-white monitor, two distinct pulses flickered. But they weren't just white blurs. They shimmered with a rhythmic, golden-silver light that seemed to pulse in sync with the mother’s heartbeat.

"Twins," the doctor announced, his voice hushed with awe. "And they aren't just Alpha blood. Look at the frequency of the shimmer. This is Brine lineage, Lord Blackwood. The High Alpha gene. It hasn't been seen in three generations."

I looked up at Bane. For the first time, the icy mask slipped. His pupils were blown wide, his wolf peering through the blue of his eyes. He wasn't looking at me; he was looking at the screen with a hunger that made my skin crawl. This was the power he needed. This was why he had tolerated my presence or so I wanted to believe because the next moment, he touched by hand subconsciously, his thumb caressing the back of my hand.

The peace of the estate was shattered few hours later by a formal summons.

I was sitting in the library, trying to distract myself with a book on pack history, when I heard the heavy thud of Bane’s office door. I crept toward the hallway, my wolf’s heightened hearing picking up the conversation.

"Raymond demands your presence at the Brooks ancestral home," a messenger was saying. "Immediately. It is a matter of First Blood. He accuses you of Mate-Theft."

I felt a chill. Raymond… Claus’s father.

I knew the stories. Raymond was the "Weak Alpha," born sickly and fragile in a world that demanded teeth and claws. He was the first head Alpha in our history to resign his duties before death, retreating into a shadow-life of bitterness and physical decay.

The pack whispered that his weakness was a curse for what happened fourth years ago.

Bane’s mother had been a maid, a beautiful, low-ranking wolf who had supposedly seduced the former Alpha while his True Luna was still alive. Raymond had been the First Luna’s golden child, the rightful heir. But when Bane was born years later, the Alpha’s favoritism shifted.

Bane’s mother had vanished into the night a year later, her body never found. Rumors pinned the blame on Raymond’s mother, but then she, too, had died shortly after.

It was a legacy of blood and dead women. And now, Raymond was calling his half-brother to account for taking his son’s mate.

I turned the corner and saw Bane standing in the hall, the summons crushed in his hand. He looked uncertain. It was the first time I had seen a crack in his lethal composure.

"You're going," I said, my voice echoing in the marble hall.

Bane looked at me, his eyes darkening. "It is a trap, Zelda. Raymond is a dying man with nothing to lose, and Claus is a desperate man with everything to gain."

"He’s your brother," I said, though the word felt wrong. "And he’s the only one who can legally strip Claus of his claim before the Council. If you don't go, you prove Claus right—that you’re just a usurper who stole a pregnant woman in the night."

Bane walked toward me, his stature dwarfing mine. He stopped just inches away, the heat radiating off his body making my breath hitch. He reached out, his thumb hovering just a fraction of an inch from the mark on my neck. He didn't touch me. He never touched me. Not intentionally at least.

"If I go," he whispered, "I leave you here. And the moment I cross the border into Brooks territory, I am technically an enemy of the state."

"I have the guards. I have the 'East Wing' cage you built for me," I said, a touch of my old bitterness leaking through. "Go. Fix the line of succession. If those babies are 'High Alphas,' they deserve a father who is a King, not a fugitive."

Bane’s jaw tightened. For a second, I thought he might actually say something personal—something about me, not the ‘vessel.’

"Stay inside the wards," he commanded, his voice returning to that cool, business-like clip. "If Claus so much as breathes near the gates, the silver-gas system will deploy. Do not leave for any reason."

He turned on his heel, his long coat billowing behind him like a cape.

As I watched his car disappear down the long, winding drive, a sudden, sharp pain flared in my abdomen. It wasn't the babies. It was a cold, greasy sensation—like a shadow passing over my soul.

Far away, in the dark heart of the city, I knew Claus was smiling. He didn't need to defeat Bane in a fight. He just needed Bane to leave the house.

I clutched my stomach, the golden shimmer of the twins pulsing faintly against my palms. "We're okay," I whispered to the empty hall. "We're okay."

But the house felt a lot larger, and a lot colder, without the monster who was keeping the other monsters away.