C3

Tristan, if I told you that our union has already borne fruit, that I am carrying your heir… would you still demand I sign those dissolution papers?”

The question hung in the air of the medical wing, thick with the scent of sterile equipment and the heavy, metallic musk of an agitated Alpha. I stared into Tristan’s eyes, desperate for a crack in the ice, a single spark of the protective mate I’d imagined he could be.

“We have been meticulous with our precautions, Lyra,” Tristan replied, his voice a low, chilling vibration that seemed to rattle the very bones of the room. “The chances are non-existent. But even if the moon had seen fit to curse us with a pup now, the directive remains unchanged. You would have to terminate it. The Crowne bloodline cannot be muddied by a substitute when the true Luna has returned to the pack.”

The blood drained from my face, leaving me cold as a Blackmoor winter. He was commanding me to kill my own child before it even had a heartbeat, all to keep the Mafia-style hierarchy of his pack pristine. His indifference was a jagged silver blade through my soul.

“Why? Tristan, even if your wolf has no room for me, how can you be so heartless toward your own blood?” My voice fractured, the pain etched into every word.

“This was a tactical alliance, nothing more,” Tristan growled, his golden eyes flashing with a detached cruelty. “A pup is a complication we don't need in the middle of a territory war. It would make the transition to Selene messy.”

I looked away, the weight of his rejection crushing my spirit until something inside me finally snapped. I stood up, my gaze hardening with a resolve I didn't know I possessed.

“Don’t worry, Alpha Crowne. I would never dream of burdening your prestigious bloodline with a child of mine!”

I lied through my teeth. I would keep this baby, but he would never touch it. I would tell my pup their father died a hero on the ice, rather than let them know he was the monster who wanted them erased.

“I’m glad you’re being rational,” Tristan muttered, his brow creasing for a fleeting second. “You look fragile. Stay in the estate. Don't worry about the Dominion Tower or the hockey training camp for now. Just rest.”

He turned and vanished into the shadows of the hallway without another word.

I didn't listen. I was at the Crowne Dominion Tower by dawn.

I couldn’t afford to be weak. If I was going to raise a secret Alpha heir while being hunted by Mafia rivals, I needed resources. I had carved out a place in the pack’s corporate intelligence wing right after Blackmoor University, just to stay in Tristan’s orbit. Our bond was a classified secret, known only to Elliot Pierce and a few high-ranking Council Alphas.

As I walked into the command center, the air was thick with the hushed, frantic energy of the pack members huddled near the strategy room.

“Is that her? The one everyone is talking about? The Alpha’s real obsession?”

“Rumored? She’s the legend, okay? Selene Voss is the only reason Tristan hasn't slaughtered the rival packs yet. He was a wreck when she vanished two years ago.”

“I heard he didn't even yell once during the defensive play meeting today. He was too busy watching her.”

“And now Miss Voss is taking over as the lead legal enforcer for the Mafia wing. They’re the ultimate power match.”

Every whisper felt like a clawed hand tearing at my chest. They remembered her. They worshipped the ghost of her while I had been the one actually doing the work, bleeding for the pack in the shadows.

Suddenly, my stomach lurched. I bolted for the restroom, the sound of the heavy door swinging shut barely masking the sound of me retching. I stayed there, splashing my face with freezing water until the world stopped spinning. I forced my mask back on and stepped out, only to find the strategy room door ajar.

Tristan and Selene were sitting shoulder to shoulder. She leaned toward him, her movements a calculated dance of grace and lethal charm.

“Tristan, the way you handled the Ironfang territory was… inspired,” she whispered, her eyes shimmering with a predatory heat as she touched his arm.

They looked like a matched set of Alphas, their silhouettes blending into one in the dim light. I felt like a ghost haunting my own life. I turned to flee, but my sleeve caught a heavy trophy on the display shelf—a memento from Tristan’s championship hockey season. It hit the floor with a deafening crack.

Tristan’s head snapped toward the door. His eyes locked onto mine, turning cold and hard the moment he realized it was me.

“What are you doing at the Tower?” he demanded, his voice echoing with sharp displeasure.

Selene looked up, a sugary, poisonous smile spreading across her face as she looked me up and down.

“Tristan, darling, you haven't introduced us. Who is this employee?”

My heart stopped. I waited for him to say it. I waited for him to claim me, even as a mistake.

“She’s just an analyst,” Tristan said curtly, his face a mask of iron. “She’s leaving.”

Just an analyst. Not a wife. Not a Luna. Not even a person.

He turned back to Selene without a second glance. Selene shot me a look of pure, triumphant malice before following him into the inner sanctum.

I was still reeling when my phone buzzed. It was my grandmother, Harper Blake, calling from the Ashford ancestral lands.

“Lyra, I’m getting old, and my wolf is tired. I need to see you settled before I go. When are you going to bring this man of yours home to the fallen House? I want to see the face of the one who cherishes my granddaughter.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my eyes stinging.

“Soon, Grandma. Soon.”

I couldn't tell her. Tristan had made me swear to keep the mating a secret from everyone outside the board. He didn't want the world to know he’d settled for a substitute. He’d kept me in a cage of silence for two years, and now he was letting me go without even a name.