C5

"Seven weeks," Rebecca whispers, her eyes darting nervously toward Lancelot. "The pup's pulse is tied to Alpha Lucas's bloodline. There is no mistaking it."

I stare blankly at the dark stone wall across the room, waiting for the blow to fall. I expect disgust. I expect him to push me away, to throw me back into a dungeon cell, or to slice my throat right here on his furs. I was thrown away by my own mate for being unworthy and poor. I know what powerful Alphas do to women carrying another man's heir.

Lancelot stands completely still at the foot of the bed. The heavy quiet in the room stretches thin and razor-sharp, filled only with the crackle of torchlight on the wall.

"Leave us, Rebecca," Lancelot commands, his voice dangerously low.

The healer gathers her herbs in a frantic hurry and scurries out, slamming the heavy iron door shut behind her.

Lancelot takes three slow, heavy steps toward the bed. He doesn't look angry. His golden eyes are intense, flashing with a raw, terrifying hunger that makes my skin prickle with heat. He climbs onto the edge of the mattress, towering over me until his shadow swallows me whole.

Before I can pull back, his large, calloused hand reaches out and grips my jaw tightly. He tilts my face upward, forcing my gaze to lock into his. He bends down, burying his face in the nook of my neck, inhaling my scent so hard his chest vibrates against my shoulder.

"You smell like him," Lancelot growls against my throat, his hot breath scorching my skin. "His scent is fading, but the blood inside you is his."

"Kill me then," I choke out, my hands pressing against his massive chest to create space. "Or give me to your warriors. Do what you want, but don't play games with me."

Lancelot doesn't pull away. Instead, his other hand moves down my ribcage, sliding slowly over my bare skin until his large, burning palm rests flat against my still-flat stomach. His touch is heavy, possessive, and unyielding. A sharp, electric shock ripples straight through my lower belly, making my inner wolf stir with a soft, unexpected whine.

He leans down until his lips almost touch mine, his thumb pressing hard into my jawline.

"Then the child is mine now," Lancelot says.

His tone is not a question. It is not a request for my permission. It is a absolute fact, a dark vow carved in stone. The cold distance in his golden eyes cracks wide open, revealing a terrifying wave of primal obsession that makes my breath hitch in my chest.

"You can't just claim another Alpha's pup!" I gasp, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs. "Lucas will tear this forest apart if he finds out!"

"Let him try," Lancelot growls, his palm pressing firmer against my womb, claiming every inch of my body and the life growing inside it. "He threw you into the fire. He surrendered his right to you, and he surrendered his right to this child. From this second on, this pup carries my name, my protection, and my mark. If anyone tries to take it from you, I will burn their world to ash."

The fierce heat of his body presses against mine, suffocating and dominant. My skin flushes, a traitorous wave of physical awareness crashing through me as his thumb brushes over my trembling lower lip.

The heavy oak door swings open with a violent crash, slamming hard against the stone wall.

A tall rogue warrior stands in the doorway, covered in mud and sweat, his chest heaving as he grips the iron frame.

"My Lord!" the warrior shouts, his voice trembling with urgency. "We have a major breach at the southern border!"

Lancelot doesn't remove his hand from my stomach immediately. He slowly turns his head, glaring at the warrior with lethal annoyance.

"Speak," Lancelot barks.

"Alpha Lucas and Amanda have issued a pack-wide decree," the warrior pants, holding up a blood-stained parchment scroll stamped with the Silver Moon wax seal. "They have publicly declared Cecelia a traitor and a dark witch who poisoned their wells. They placed a bounty of ten thousand gold pieces on her head—dead or alive."

"Let them offer gold," Lancelot says coldly, finally standing up and straightening his coat. "My border guards will slaughter anyone who steps foot on Black Ridge land."

"It isn't just bounty hunters, Alpha!" the warrior warns, stepping closer into the room. "They brought silver chains, silver blades, and they hired a specialized witch-hunter from the northern wastes. Lucas wants the pregnancy terminated before the moon rises. The orders are to cut the pup out of her."

My blood runs dead cold. My hands fly to my stomach, a wave of sickening nausea hitting me like a physical punch. Lucas isn't just trying to kill me anymore—he wants to erase the child so no rival line can ever challenge his authority.

"The hunters are already in the forest," the warrior continues, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "And one of them has already passed the outer guard posts. He is inside the fortress walls right now."