chapter 5

Claus's POV The boardroom of Brooks Enterprises didn’t smell like the future; it smelled like dust, old parchment, and the stagnant breath of dying men.

I sat at the head of the mahogany table, watching the Pack Elders bicker. They were relics, their graying furs and trembling hands a testament to a world that was supposed to be mine. Across from me, an empty chair mocked me—the seat that belonged to my father, Raymond, who was too busy coughing up his lungs in a darkened room to defend his son’s birthright.

"The shift is undeniable," Elder Hakan wheezed, tapping a gnarled finger on a high-resolution photo of Zelda’s neck. "The mark left by Bane Blackwood isn't a mere bite. It’s glowing, silver-rimmed. The Moon Goddess herself has reached down and rewritten the bond."

I forced a smile, the kind of polished, charismatic expression I’d practiced in mirrors since I was twelve. Inside, I wanted to tear Hakan’s throat out.

"The Moon Goddess is fickle, Hakan," I said, my voice smooth as aged bourbon. "Zelda was under duress. Bane is a predator; he used his position and his... illegitimate charms to confuse her. A bond shift? Or a sophisticated forgery of the soul?"

"It cannot be forged, Claus," another elder countered. "The shimmer in her womb—the reports from the medical staff—it’s Brine blood. If she bears Bane’s child before you produce an heir, the Alpha title bypasses you entirely. It is the law of the First Blood."

I leaned back, steepled my fingers, and let the silence hang. I needed them to feel my 'stability' even as my world was burning. "Then I suppose I’ll just have to ensure my heir arrives first."

I returned to my suite, the rage finally bubbling beneath the surface. I slammed the door so hard the crystal decanters on my bar rattled. Zelda. My sweet, pliable, infertile Zelda. I had spent years grooming her, pampering her into a state of emotional paralysis so she would never look at another man. And in one night, she had crawled into the bed of the one man I hated more than death itself.

A soft knock at the door made my jaw lock.

"Get out," I snarled.

The door creaked open anyway. Freya stepped in, her eyes red-rimmed, her hair a mess of blonde tangles. She looked frantic, a far cry from the sleek, composed assistant I used for my more... carnal distractions.

"Claus, we need to talk," she sobbed. "I heard what they said at the meeting. You’re going after her, aren't you? You’re going to try and bring Zelda back."

I turned, my eyes narrowing. "She is the key to the throne, Freya. Don't be tedious. Pack your things; I have no use for a general’s sister who can’t keep her composure."

"You’re choosing her!" Freya screamed, her voice hitting a shrill, hysterical note. "After everything? I’ve been the one by your side while you played house with that boring, empty-headed girl! If you want her so badly, then fine. I’ll go to the clinic. I’ll abort this child right now and you can have your precious Zelda back!"

The word child hit me like a physical blow.

I froze. My mind, usually a whirlwind of schemes, went deathly quiet. I looked at Freya. Her stomach wasn't showing yet, but the scent of her pheromones had changed. It was faint, buried under the smell of her cheap perfume, but it was there.

The shock lasted only a second before the predator in me took over. I didn't see a woman I’d shared a bed with; I saw a biological loophole.

I shifted my posture. The cold, lethal Alpha vanished. I softened my eyes, letting a look of profound realization wash over my face. I took two long strides toward her and gathered her into my arms.

"Freya," I breathed into her hair, my voice a soothing, honeyed caress. "Oh, my sweet Freya. Why didn't you tell me?"

She stiffened, her sobs turning into confused hiccups. "You... you were going to kick me out."

"I was stressed," I lied, pulling back just enough to cup her face in my hands. I used my thumbs to brush away her tears, my touch as gentle as a summer breeze. "I was terrified of losing everything. But a child? Our child?" I let out a low, shaky laugh that sounded perfectly relieved. "Zelda was a duty, Freya. A burden I carried for the sake of the Pack. But you... you’re the one who has actually given me what I need. What I want."

"You mean it?" she whispered, her greed beginning to eclipse her fear. I could see the wheels turning in her head—the title of Luna, the jewels, the power.

"I will make you my Luna the moment that child draws breath," I promised, kissing her forehead with a reverence that made my stomach churn. "Zelda is nothing. A shadow. You are the future of the Brooks line."

She melted against me, clutching my shirt. I looked over her shoulder at the wall, my expression turning into a mask of pure, unadulterated coldness. She was a peasant, a temporary vessel, but she was currently the only thing standing between me and the abyss.

Once I had tucked Freya into bed with promises of a morning shopping spree, I stepped into the hallway. Paul, my Beta and Freya’s brother, was waiting in the shadows. He had heard everything.

"She’s pregnant," Paul said, his voice grim.

"I know," I replied, the sweetness gone from my voice. "But Bane’s pups are already growing. The 'High Alpha' bloodline matures faster. Even if Freya is a few weeks along, Zelda will deliver first. We’re still losing, Paul."

Paul looked down the hallway to ensure his sister was asleep. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "There are ways to tilt the scales, Claus. Old ways. Dangerous ways. My grandfather spoke of a lineage of practitioners who don't follow the Moon Goddess. They follow the Earth’s rot."

I looked at him, my interest piqued. "Go on."

"Magic that can accelerate a pregnancy," Paul said, his eyes darting nervously. "It forces the body to skip the months of waiting. The child is born in weeks, fully formed. But it requires a sacrifice. A tether to the bloodline."

I thought of my father, Raymond. He was already dying. He was a weak Alpha, a man who had let his illegitimate brother walk all over him for decades. He was useless to me alive.

"Where do we find this practitioner?" I asked.

"The outskirts of the Grey Marsh," Paul said. "The Liminal Broker. But Claus... the price is never just gold."

I didn't hesitate. I didn't feel a flicker of guilt or a moment of doubt. I only felt the burning, obsessive need to see Bane Blackwood stripped of his pride.

"Get the car," I commanded.

The Grey Marsh was a place where the modern world died. The air was thick with the smell of sulfur and decaying vegetation. We walked through the knee-deep fog until we reached a shack that looked like it was being swallowed by the earth.

Inside, the Liminal Broker was a thing of nightmares—shriveled, ageless, and smelling of copper. She didn't look up as we entered. She was busy grinding something in a bowl made from a wolf’s skull.

"I need a birth," I said, stepping into the dim light. "Fast. Before the next full moon."

The Broker chuckled, a sound like dry leaves skittering on a grave. "A shortcut. You want to outrun the Goddess." She held out a withered hand. "The tether, little Alpha."

I pulled a small, glass vial from my pocket. Inside, the blood was dark and sluggish. It was the blood I had drawn from my father’s arm while he slept under the influence of his pain medication. The blood of the first blood heir.

"Ripen her womb," I said, my voice cracking like a whip. "I don't care what it takes. I don't care if the process burns her from the inside out. I want that child born before Bane's."

The Broker took the vial, her eyes gleaming with a sickly yellow light. She poured the blood into the bowl and began to chant, a low, guttural sound that made the very shadows in the room writhe.

I stood there, watching the dark magic take hold, a slow, predatory grin spreading across my face.

Bane thought he had won because he had the girl and the fated bond. But he forgot one thing.

I don't play by the rules of gods. I write my own.

I stared at the bubbling blood in the bowl, my eyes wide and manic.

"Find more witches," I whispered to Paul, even though she was right in front of us. "Find every dark thing in this world. Because by the time Zelda realizes what I've done, there won't be a world left for her to run to."