LOGIN(Ella’s POV)
By the time I regained consciousness, my head felt as if someone had smashed it with a damn stone, hard and heavy and relentless in the way it thudded on. The space was an ant nest, the bed in a horrible mess of tangled sheets, and sunlight struck straight into the eyes through a narrow spider of curtain. My blue dress, Mia's, because I don't own shit like that, was wadded up on the floor, looking pitiful, and I was tangled in this scratchy blanket that reeked of smoke and Cole. That sharp, woodsy smell that's just him. My stomach flipped, sour and tight, as bits of last night clawed back, the party, Sasha shoving that drink at me with her fake-ass smile, then him. Oh God. I shot up, hands shaking bad, trying to grab onto the memory. We'd kissed, hard, sloppy, and more. A lot more. My face went hot, panic clawing up my throat, choking me. What the hell did I do?
I yanked the blanket tight around me, heart slamming like it wanted out. The door was shut, but I could hear them out there, voices loud, fast, tearing through the pack like a rumor gone wild. They knew. Somebody saw us, caught us in the act. I snatched my dress off the floor, hands all clumsy, pulled it on quick over sweaty skin. My boots were by the bed, laces a mess, and I jammed them on, needing to run, to figure this out before it ate me alive. But then boots pounded up the stairs, big, hurried, and the door flew open.
Marcus. His gray eyes cut right through me, face tight with worry that hit me like a punch. "Ella," he said, stepping in, voice rough but solid. "You okay?"
I nodded, but my throat was dry as hell, no words coming. He crossed the room fast, two big steps, and pulled me into a hug, arms strong, warm, like a wall between me and everything else. I always felt safe with him. "I heard," he said, low in my ear. "Pack's going nuts. Cole's with Victor now."
"Victor?" I rasped, pulling back, voice cracking like glass. The alpha. Cole's dad. My gut dropped hard.
"Yeah," Marcus said, nodding. "Come on. They want you there too."
I didn't want to go, but I trailed him anyway. People stared as we passed, eyes drilling holes, whispers buzzing like flies. My cheeks burned, hot and awful, but I kept my head down, stuck on Marcus's boots stomping ahead. What would they think I was now? Some tramp? Some idiot?
Victor's office was big, dark wood, heavy chairs that groaned when you sat. He was seated behind his desk, arms wide, green eyes, far too much like Cole's, set on his son. Cole was standing there, as stiff as a board, fingers shoved into pockets, not even glancing in my direction when I came in. That hurt, stung deep, more than I had wanted it to.
"Ella," Victor said, voice deep and steady, like this was just another day. "Sit."
I dropped into a chair, hands twisting in my lap, fingers knotting up until they ached. Marcus hung by the door, quiet but close, a steady shadow. Victor leaned forward, elbows on the desk, staring me down. "Cole says you're his mate," he said, like it was carved in stone.
My breath stuck, throat closing up. Mate? I didn't even get what that meant, not really, not for me. I'm human, not like them. I looked at Cole, begged him to act, but his jaw was clamped, eyes glued to the ground like I didn't exist at all. "I... I don't get it," I whispered, voice small, dissipating.
Victor smirked, just a flicker. "It's a bond. Rare with a human, but it happens. Cole felt it last night. And word is, it's locked in."
"Locked in?" I said, head spinning, room wobbling.
"He claimed you," Victor said, nodding like it was no big thing. "You're his now. In this pack, that means marriage."
My mouth went dry, words gone. Marry him? Cole's head jerked up then, eyes hitting mine for a heartbeat, green, pissed, before sliding away fast. He didn't want this, I could see it, plain as day. But Victor's face was hard, no give.
"I don't," I started, voice trembling, wanting to scream no, but Marcus's eyes held me, steady and proud, pinning me there. The door swung open again. Mara came in, Victor's wife, gray hair soft, smile warm like a hug. She rushed over, yanked me up into her arms, all lavender and comfort.
"Oh, Ella," she said, squeezing tight. "This is so great! A mate bond, it's special."
I hugged her back, numb, but my guts were twisting, tying up in knots. Marcus stepped closer, hand landing on my shoulder, warm and heavy. "It's good, cub," he said quiet. "You're family now. Real family."
Their words hit me like bricks, piling on fast. They were happy, grinning, excited, but I wasn't. I was scared shitless, drowning. Last night was a fog, heat and hands, and now I'm marrying Cole? The guy who's laughed in my face, pushed me around forever? I looked at him again, desperate for anything, a look, a word, but he just stood there, shut down.
"Okay?" I mumbled, voice a ghost, barely there. I couldn't let Marcus down, or Mara, they were smiling so big, proud, and I couldn't say no, not to them. But inside, I was shaking apart, resolve hardening under the fear, I wouldn't let this break me.
Victor clapped his hands, loud, done. "Good. It's settled. We'll move quick."
I nodded, blank, as Mara hugged me again, her grip tight. Cole didn't say jack, just turned and walked out, boots thumping hard. I watched him go, heart sinking like a rock. What the hell did I just agree to?
Later, I bailed outside, needing air bad. The pack house was choking me, too small, too loud with their big plans. My boots crunched gravel as I headed for the trees, then I heard voices, low, sharp, cutting through. I stopped, peeked around a shed. Cole and Sasha, close, heads bent like they were scheming.
"I don't love her," Cole said, voice cold as ice. "She's my mate, sure, but it's just duty. Dad's making me marry her."
Sasha smirked, arms crossed tight. "I still don't like it, Cole. She'll pay for surviving, you watch."
"Surviving?" Cole repeated.
Sasha was smooth though, "I hear things, Cole. You were her knight in shiny armor. Rumors spread."
My chest cracked, hurt slamming me hard. Surviving? That drink, the guy dragging me off last night, Sasha's fake smile flashed in my head. Was it her? I couldn't be sure, but the thought twisted my gut, sharp and cold. I slapped a hand over my mouth, choking down a sob that wanted out. He didn't love me. Duty, just a job. And Sasha, her smug little grin was trouble, I knew it deep now.
I backed off quiet, feet soft so they wouldn't hear. Tears hit hot and fast, blurring everything as I stumbled into the woods, breath hitching loud and messy. I wiped my face, hands shaking, but it wouldn't stop, kept pouring. I didn't know what to do. Cole's my mate, whatever that bullshit means, and I'm stuck with him. But he doesn't want me. He wants her, Sasha, always her.
I dropped down by a tree, bark digging into my back, pulled my knees up tight. The future stretched out, dark and ugly, a tangle I couldn't see through. All I had was tears soaking my dress and this promise I'd kill to ditch, tying me to a guy who'd rather I was gone. But that suspicion about Sasha, it lit something in me, a spark I'd hold onto.
The cabin had become too quiet.Ella lay on her side, staring at the thin silver of moonlight spilling through the crack in the curtains. The space beside her was cold, sheets untouched, a hollow reminder that once again Cole hasn’t come to bed last night.At first, she had tried convincing herself that he had been busy doing his duties as an Alpha in waiting. He had meetings and other responsibilities to attend to. But at this moment, with her hands gently resting on her stomach, she couldn’t deny the suspicions growing within her chest.They were already changed to her body. Some mornings, she could wake up feeling dizzy. She could only feel ease when Mia pressed tea into her hands with a grin. Her moods felt like waves crashing against rock—high, low, and unpredictable. And even though Marcus had pulled her into a warm embrace when she’d shared the news with him, whispering “cub, you’ll be alright,” Ella couldn’t help but feel like she was the only one carrying the weight of it al
The nights had gotten heavier. Not just colder, it felt as if the air itself carried something unspoken between them.Ella curled into the worn couch, her sketchbook balanced on her knees, pencil scratching lightly against paper. The lines didn’t come together the way she wanted, lately they never did. Everything looked unfinished, incomplete just similar to the way her life felt.Her hand drifted to her stomach. Pregnant. The word still echoed in her chest like a secret too big for her body to take in. She hadn’t announced it too everyone yet, only few people knew about her pregnancy. Marcus knew, and her closest friends. Cole knew, of course, but she wasn’t sure how much of it had sunk into him. He’d smiled when she told him, bought her apples, asked her gently about her day. It was sweet, almost endearing.But the sweetness never lasted long.When she looked up, she often caught him staring out the window, his jaw tight, shoulders heavy, eyes shadowed as if he carried a weight she
Cole sat on the edge of the bed, the apple in his hand slick with sweat from his palm. He’d meant it as a gesture—small, thoughtful, something that might lighten the heaviness hanging between them—but the fruit felt ridiculous now. A piece of produce wasn’t going to erase the truth: Ella was carrying his child, and he was still sneaking away to Sasha like a coward.Ella’s voice echoed in his memory, soft but certain: “I’m pregnant.”The words had knocked the air from his lungs. He’d been Alpha-trained for battles, for pack decisions that could cost lives, but nothing could have prepare me for the words that came out from his mouth. He should have felt pride in himself but instead all I felt was guilt because when she told him the news the first thing he thought about wasn’t joy but was Sasha.He set the apple on the nightstand, running a hand through his hair. Across the room, Ella slept curled on her side, her sketchbook open beside her. A half-drawn wildflower stretched across the p
(Ella POV)The morning light broke softer than usual, sliding through the curtains in golden threads. My stomach twisted again, this time sharp and insistent, even before I could steady myself I ran towards the washroom before the nausea could hit, leaving me kneeling against the cool floor, breath shuddering.By midday, I just couldn’t keep the secret to myself. The walls of the cabin seemed to press in, suffocating me. My friends had always been my anchor, and Marcus—he had been more father to me than anyone else. If anyone could steady me now, it was them.I gathered my courage and walked into the village. The hum of voices, the smell of fresh bread, the rhythm of daily life—it should have been comforting. Instead, every sound felt sharpened, every glance felt like it weighed a ton. My hands shook as I tightened my shawl around me.I found them where I knew they’d be—by the well, laughter spilling between them like sunlight. Mia, with her bright eyes and endless energy, waved me ov
(Ella POV)The mornings came slower now, like the sun hesitated to rise. I sat at the table, chin in my palm, watching the steam curl from the cup of tea Marcus had insisted I drink for my “nerves.” I wasn’t sure if it helped, but the warmth grounded me while the rest of me felt strangely adrift. I still haven’t told him about me being pregnant.My stomach turned in weak waves again. It had been happening for days soft nausea in the morning, a weariness I couldn’t shake, all this I knew what associated with me being pregnant or so I read.Cole’s boots scuffed against the porch, the sound dragging me away from my thoughts. He stepped inside, shaking off the cold air, his shirt clinging to him from training. His eyes flicked to me, then away again, like he couldn’t hold my gaze for more than a second.“You’re up early,” I said, trying to sound casual, though my voice wavered.He grunted, pulling an apple from the counter and tossing it to me with a faint smile that never reached his ey
(Ella POV)The mornings had begun to feel different. It wasn’t just brighter or exactly softer but in ways I couldn’t explain the day felt heavier. The scent of apples lingered in the cabin now, bowls of them placed on the kitchen counter, one was perched on the table in an awkward manner just as if Cole had dropped it there and forgotten about it.I traced my fingers over the smooth skin of the nearest one, it looked so deep it looked like a bruise against the pale wood. I should have smiled at the gesture. I wanted to but with the distance he had been displaying, something coiled too tight beneath the surface. Each time he handed me one, his eyes would soften for a moment, then flicker away, shadowed.More than I would love to admit, It unsettled me.The cabin was quiet, save for the faint creak of the wood in the wind. My stomach fluttered—sometimes with queasiness, sometimes with nerves. I pressed a hand against it now, almost unconsciously. It was still too early for anything to







