C2

“Look at me, Lyra. I said look at me!”

Alpha Tristan Crowne’s voice sliced through the silence of the master suite like a jagged blade. I gripped the edge of the dresser, my knuckles turning white as I forced my eyes to meet his. He stood there, radiating the cold, predatory power of the Crowne Dominion, the scent of the ice rink and expensive gun oil clinging to him.

“Is this about the Ironfang Airfield?” I managed to ask, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady for the sake of the pup I was secretly carrying.

“Selene is back in the territory,” he declared, his expression as unreadable as the frozen surface of a hockey rink. “The council requires a stable Alpha bloodline, but not with a substitute. I think it’s time we signed the dissolution papers.”

“Dissolution?” The word felt like a physical blow to my chest, stealing the air from my lungs. “You’re discarding our bond because she returned? Two years of being your Luna, of protecting your secrets and your pack, and this is it?”

“I was explicit on our wedding night,” Tristan growled, his brow furrowed with growing irritation as he stepped into my personal space. “I told you then: do not hunt for a connection that isn't there. You were brought in to secure the Crowne Alpha status when House Ashford fell. Anything you desire from the vaults—gold, property, protection—I’ll ensure you’re compensated ten times over.”

“Compensated?” I laughed, a bitter, broken sound that echoed off the cold walls. “You think you can pay off a mating bond? Tell me something, Tristan. All those nights in this bed, when your wolf was howling and you were claiming me… were you picturing her? Was I just a ghost to you?”

Tristan’s jaw tightened, and for a fleeting second, he looked caught off guard. He opened his mouth, his breath hitching, but no words followed. His silence was the sharpest weapon he possessed, and it carved right through what was left of my heart.

“I understand now,” I whispered, turning away before he could see the first tear fall. “The physical proximity was just a biological glitch to you. A mistake of the moon.”

“Lyra, don’t make this a theatrical display,” he snapped, though I could hear a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps—in his tone.

“Fine. I’ll sign,” I said, my voice suddenly hollow. “I’m done fighting for a throne that was never mine to sit on.”

I moved past him to gather my things, my shoulder brushing his. Instinctively, his hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around my wrist like a vice.

“Wait,” he started, his eyes searching mine with a sudden, frantic intensity. “I didn’t say you had to leave the estate tonight. We need to discuss the logistics of the Ashford bloodline and the hockey franchise transition.”

The shrill ring of his phone cut him off. He glanced at the caller ID, and the tension in his grip vanished instantly. He let go of me to answer, his voice dropping into a tone so soft it made my blood run cold.

“Selene… Yes, I’m here. It’s nothing important, just handling some pack business. I’ll be there soon.”

I didn't stay to hear the rest. I retreated to the guest wing, locking the door and pressing my back against it. I clamped my hand over my mouth to stifle the sobs, the disparity between his frost and her fire burning me alive. What was I supposed to do? How could I raise an Alpha’s heir in the middle of a Mafia war while the father was chasing his true mate?

Exhausted, I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, hoping the heat would wash away the scent of him. I sank to the floor of the stall, the roar of the water masking my breakdown.

“Why are you doing this to us?” I cried out, the steam filling my lungs.

I tried to stand, my head spinning from the emotional drain, but my foot caught on the slick tile. I went down hard, a sharp, agonizing jolt radiating through my spine and into my lower abdomen.

“No!” I shrieked, my hands flying to my belly to shield the life inside.

The door to the guest suite burst open. Tristan was there in seconds, his Alpha instincts overriding his coldness. He found me crumpled on the wet floor, my skin deathly pale and covered in a cold sweat.

“Lyra! What the hell happened?” He scooped me up, his voice trembling with a raw, jagged panic that he couldn't hide. “Are you bleeding? Are you hit?”

“I’m fine…” I whispered, my vision blurring as I tried to push him away. “Go back to her, Tristan. I don't need your pity.”

“Stay still! That’s an Alpha command!” he roared, his eyes flashing a dangerous gold.

He carried me to the bed, laying me down with a gentleness that felt like a cruel joke. He leaned over me, his hands hovering over my body as he checked for injuries, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated concern. That small spark of hope I tried to kill flickered back to life. I reached out and grabbed his hand, my voice cracking with desperation.

“If I told you there was a reason I couldn't leave… would you still choose her?”