Chapter 10: The First Strike

The adrenaline from our grand entrance was starting to fade, leaving me feeling a bit lightheaded. The heavy scent of wolf musk, expensive perfume, and champagne in the hall was becoming overwhelming.

"I need a moment," I whispered to Killian, leaning slightly against his solid frame.

His hand tightened on my waist. "Do you want to leave?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I just need to use the ladies' room. I'll be right back."

Killian frowned, scanning the room. "I'll escort you to the door. Don't take long."

He walked me to the corridor leading to the restrooms, his eyes warning off anyone who dared to look at me too long.

I slipped into the bathroom. Thankfully, it was empty. I splashed some cold water on my face, staring at my reflection. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes bright. I looked... alive.

I placed a hand on my flat stomach. We did it, little one. We faced them.

Just as I turned to dry my hands, the door banged open.

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The reflection in the mirror showed a cloud of white tulle and a face twisted in ugly rage.

Chloe.

She marched in, kicking the door shut and locking it behind her.

"You bitch," she hissed, her voice trembling with fury. "You think you're so special because you spread your legs for an exile?"

I turned around slowly, leaning back against the sink. "Hello to you too, Chloe. Lovely wedding dress. Very... puffy."

"Shut up!" she shrieked. She stomped closer, her hands clenched into fists. "You ruined my night! Everyone is talking about you! Liam can't stop staring at you!"

"If your mate is staring at another woman on his mating day, that sounds like a you problem, not a me problem," I said calmly.

Chloe’s eyes widened. She wasn't used to me talking back. For years, I had taken her bullying in silence.

"You think Killian protects you?" she sneered, taking another step forward. "He's just using you to get back at dad and Liam. Once he gets bored, you'll be nothing. A used toy."

"Maybe," I shrugged. "But at least I'm not a second choice."

That snapped her last thread of control.

"I'll teach you your place!" Chloe screamed. She raised her hand, aiming a sharp slap at my face.

In the past, I would have flinched. I would have closed my eyes and taken it.

But not today. Not with my baby inside me.

Instinct—sharp, primal, and fierce—took over.

Before her hand could connect, I caught her wrist in mid-air.

Snap.

I gripped it tight. Hard. My fingers dug into her skin. I felt a surge of strength that definitely wasn't human. Maybe it was the Royal blood in my womb lending me power.

Chloe gasped, trying to yank her hand back, but I held fast.

"Let go!" she cried out, shock replacing the anger in her eyes. "You... you're hurting me!"

"Listen to me closely, Chloe," I said, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous register that sounded eerily like Killian’s. "I am done being your punching bag. I am done being the victim."

I shoved her hand away with enough force that she stumbled back, tripping over her ridiculous dress and crashing into the wall.

"You're crazy!" she panted, holding her wrist.

"No," I said, stepping closer, invading her space until she shrank back. "I'm just awake. Stay away from me. And stay away from Killian. If you try to touch me again, I won't just catch your hand."

I leaned in, my eyes locking with hers.

"I'll break it."

Chloe turned pale. She looked at me like she had never seen me before.

I didn't wait for her response. I unlocked the door and walked out, my heart pounding in my chest—not from fear, but from the thrill of victory.

I walked back into the corridor, smoothing down my red dress.

Killian was waiting right where I left him, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He pushed off the wall as I approached, his eyes scanning me instantly for any sign of injury.

He paused, sniffing the air. A slow, dark smirk spread across his face.

"You smell like adrenaline," he murmured, pulling me into his arms. "And... victory."

"I ran into Chloe," I admitted, looking up at him.

"Do I need to go in there and finish it?" Killian asked, his hand drifting to the small of my back, protective and deadly.

"No," I smiled, resting my head against his chest. "I handled it."

Killian chuckled, kissing the top of my head.

"That's my girl."

We walked back into the party, leaving the bathroom—and my old, weak self—behind for good.

The war had started. And for the first time, I knew I could win.