Chapter Three

Morning light streaming through the massive windows woke me. For a blissful few seconds, I forgot where I was and what had happened. Then memory crashed back like a physical blow, and I curled into a ball under expensive blankets, stomach churning.

A soft knock interrupted my spiral into panic.

"Miss Nicholas?" A female voice called through the door. "I am Diana, one of the palace staff. May I come in? I brought breakfast and some things you might need."

I sat up slowly, pulling the robe tighter around myself. "Come in."

The door opened, and a young woman about my age entered carrying a tray that smelled like heaven. She had warm brown eyes, dark curly hair pulled into a bun, and an omega scent that immediately put me more at ease. She set the tray on the table near the fireplace, then turned to me with a gentle smile.

"I thought you might prefer eating here rather than facing the dining hall on your first morning," Diana said. "Fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, tea. If you need something different, I can bring it."

"This is perfect," I managed, climbing out of bed. "Thank you."

Diana gestured to shopping bags she had set by the door. "Christopher asked me to bring clothes in various styles since we were not sure what you would prefer. Casual wear, training gear, formal options. Everything should fit, but if adjustments are needed, we have an excellent seamstress on staff."

Training gear? Why would I need training gear?

I must have looked confused because Diana continued, "The King mentioned you might want to join the warriors for their morning sessions. He said something about not wasting your skills anymore?"

So Anthony remembered what I told him last night, or what he overheard from Mitchell's pitch to buyers. Combat training. The skills my father gave me that I had hidden for two years because Mitchell said a proper Luna should be soft, not scarred.

"Does the King train with his warriors?" I asked, sitting at the table and pouring tea with hands that shook slightly.

"Every morning at six," Diana confirmed. "He is usually the first one there and the last to leave. Christopher jokes that his cousin bleeds work ethic instead of blood."

I nibbled on a strawberry, letting the sweetness ground me in the present moment. "How long have you worked here?"

"Three years," Diana answered, starting to tidy the room even though it was already spotless. "I came from a pack that was dissolved after our Alpha was arrested for trafficking. The King offered all of us sanctuary and jobs. He does not turn away omegas who have nowhere else to go."

My chest tightened. Anthony was not just buying people from auctions; he was actively rescuing entire packs. And here I thought he was the monster everyone whispered about.

"Everyone says he is terrifying," I said carefully.

Diana paused in her tidying, considering her words. "He can be terrifying when he needs to be. I have seen him reduce Alphas to stuttering messes with just a look. But he has never raised his voice to staff, never punished anyone unfairly, and goes out of his way to make sure omegas in his territory are protected and educated. My little brother wants to be a doctor; the King is paying for his medical school. So yes, he is terrifying to his enemies. But to those under his protection? He is the best leader I have ever served."

I absorbed that, matching it against the man who bought me last night and then gave me a guest suite instead of chains.

"The healers want to see you at ten," Diana continued. "Just a routine examination to make sure you are healthy after... everything. I can walk you there if you would like company?"

"I would appreciate that," I admitted. The idea of wandering these halls alone was daunting.

Diana smiled. "Finish your breakfast and get dressed. I will come back in an hour."

After she left, I ate slowly, forcing down food even though my stomach felt tight. Then I examined the clothes Diana brought. She had not been exaggerating about variety: everything from simple jeans and sweaters to elegant dresses to athletic wear designed for serious training.

I chose jeans, a soft green sweater, and practical boots. The training gear tempted me, but I was not ready to face warriors who would judge the omega trying to play soldier. Not yet.

Diana returned exactly an hour later and led me through the palace, pointing out important locations: the library, the main dining hall, the gardens, the medical wing. We passed several wolves in the corridors; all of them greeted Diana warmly and me with curious but not hostile glances.

The medical wing smelled like antiseptic and herbs. Diana introduced me to the head healer, an older woman named Margaret with sharp eyes and gentle hands.

"Miss Nicholas," Margaret greeted me professionally. "I understand you have been through a traumatic experience. This examination is purely to ensure your physical health and address any immediate concerns. You may refuse any part of it, and you may have Diana stay with you if that makes you more comfortable."

I gripped Diana's hand. "Please stay."

The examination was thorough but never invasive beyond necessity. Margaret checked my vitals, examined my reflexes, and asked questions about my medical history. Then she paused, studying me thoughtfully.

"When was your last menstrual cycle, dear?"

Ice flooded my veins. "Six weeks ago. Maybe seven now."

Margaret's expression remained carefully neutral. "Would you like me to perform a pregnancy test?"

Diana's hand tightened around mine.

"Yes," I whispered. "I need to know."

Margaret stepped out, returning moments later with a small kit. She took blood, ran the test while Diana and I sat in silence heavy with anticipation, and then returned with results written on her professional face.

"You are pregnant," she confirmed gently. "Approximately six to seven weeks along. Early stages, but the pregnancy appears healthy."

The room spun. I had suspected, feared, hoped, and dreaded this in equal measure, but hearing confirmation made it devastatingly real.

"Does anyone else know?" I asked urgently.

"Patient confidentiality is absolute here," Margaret assured me. "I will not share this information with anyone, including the King, without your explicit permission. This is your news to share or keep private as you choose."

It felt a huge relief. "Thank you."

After the examination ended, Diana walked me back toward my suite in silence, respecting my need to process. We were almost there when we rounded a corner and nearly collided with Anthony himself, emerging from what looked like a strategy room with Christopher at his side.

"Miss Nicholas," Anthony greeted me, grey eyes scanning my face like he could read exactly how overwhelmed I felt. "I trust you slept well?"

"Yes, thank you," I managed politely. "The suite is beautiful."

"Good." He glanced at Christopher. "I need to speak with Miss Nicholas privately. We will use the west library."

Christopher nodded and walked away. Diana gave my hand a quick squeeze and followed him, leaving me alone with the Lycan King in the elegant hallway.

Anthony gestured toward a door halfway down the corridor. "After you."

The west library was smaller than I expected, cozy with overstuffed chairs and bookshelves lining every wall. A fire crackled in the hearth. Anthony closed the door behind us but did not approach, giving me space.

"I imagine you have questions," he began without preamble. "Ask them."

Where did I even start? "Why did you buy me?"

"Because you were being sold, and I had the resources to stop it."

"But why spend so much? Why the guest suite? Why any of this?"

Anthony was quiet for a moment, then walked to the window overlooking the gardens. "My mother was sold at auction when I was nine years old. Her own mate, my father's beta, sold her to pay gambling debts. By the time my father found her, she was already gone. Dead in some trafficking operation that we never fully dismantled."

My throat tightened. "Christopher told me."

"Then you understand why I cannot ignore these auctions. I have networks that alert me when they happen. I attend when possible. I buy whoever I can and offer them choices: sanctuary here, relocation to another pack, financial support to start over elsewhere. You are not the first person I have purchased, Mirabel, and you will not be the last."

"So I am a charity case," I said, not sure if I felt insulted or relieved.

"You are a person who deserves better than being sold like property," he corrected firmly. "What happens next is entirely your decision. You can stay here in the guest suite with full freedom of the palace. You can request relocation to any pack territory you prefer. You can ask for money to start a new life somewhere far from all of this. I will support whatever choice you make."

I stared at him, this powerful man offering me autonomy when he could have demanded anything. "What if I want to destroy Mitchell?"

Anthony's expression shifted, something dangerous and satisfied sliding across his features. "Then I will help you do it."

"Why?"

"Because he deserves it," Anthony said simply. "And because I think you deserve the satisfaction of watching him fall."

A knock at the door interrupted us. Christopher poked his head in, face apologetic. "Sorry to interrupt, but we have a situation. Mitchell sent a formal letter."

Anthony's jaw tightened. "What does it say?"

"He refuses to reject the mate bond. Claims he only sold her body, not her soul, and that she is still legally his mate under traditional pack law."

The words hit me like a punch. The bond. I had been so focused on the pregnancy that I forgot about the bond still tying me to Mitchell despite everything.

"What does that mean?" I asked, dread pooling in my stomach.

Anthony turned to me, and for the first time since I met him, I saw genuine anger burning in those grey eyes.

"It means," he said quietly, dangerously, "that your former mate just declared war.”