Chapter 3

Lucian came to my room that night.

He stopped in the doorway and kept one hand on the frame, as though he had already decided not to stay.

“The baby has a name now,” he said. “Nova. Seraphina chose it. You gave birth to her, so I thought you should know.”

“Nova is a beautiful name.”

His expression shifted, but he moved on.

“The boy is three. His training starts soon, and Seraphina will choose his first instructors. He’s old enough to remember faces now.”

He paused.

“From now on, stay away from the training grounds. I don’t want him confused.”

I looked up at him. “All right.”

Lucian did not leave.

My answer had been too quiet. He was used to tears, accusations, desperate promises that I would keep my distance if he only let me see my son once.

I gave him nothing.

“Are you angry?” he asked at last.

“No.”

His brows drew together.

He would have known what to do with anger. He could have called me selfish. He could have reminded me that he was Alpha and that the pack came first.

But I was calm, and for once, he had no argument prepared.

“Riona, thousands of wolves depend on this pack,” he said. “The elders look for weakness in everything I do. They can’t be allowed to question the heir’s legitimacy—not his blood, not his upbringing, not the woman the pack recognizes as his mother. Seraphina is the Luna. The children have to be hers in every way that matters.”

“I know.”

“This isn’t meant to punish you. It’s what I have to do as Alpha.”

“Seraphina was your choice,” I said. “You chose her before the Moon Goddess chose me. You made her a promise.”

Lucian stared at me.

“You blame yourself for what happened to her,” I continued. “The Goddess gave you another mate, and you couldn’t refuse the bond without weakening your wolf. So you gave Seraphina my children to prove that she still came first. You stay away from me for the same reason.”

He said nothing.

“I’m not angry anymore, Lucian. I finally understand.”

The silence between us stretched.

His eyes moved over my face, and I knew he was remembering the girl I used to be.

I had once waited near the training field after his morning drills with wild berries cupped in both hands. I had saved feathers I found on patrol and tucked them between the pages of his reports because I thought he would like them.

One winter night, he returned late from a border council and found me asleep outside his office. I had wrapped a jar of broth in blankets to keep it warm for him. When I woke, I pushed it into his hands so quickly that the heat burned my fingertips.

I had smiled whenever I saw him then.

I could not remember the last time I had.

Lucian opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something. For one reckless second, I thought he might tell me we could reconsider the arrangement. That I could see the children. That something about this had been wrong.

Then his jaw tightened.

The Alpha won.

So did his guilt toward Seraphina. So did the elders and the succession and every excuse he had used to bury me.

He turned and walked away.

His boots struck the stone hard and fast, as if he were trying to outrun a thought he did not want to face.