The Two Lines

Dominic’s POV

The council chamber felt like a suffocating cage.

For over three grueling hours, Beta Marcus had dragged out the meeting with endless, calculated delays. He droned on about pack succession laws, warrior lineage, and political stability, each point circling back to one unrelenting demand: that I cast Daciana aside and make Vivian my Luna.

“Alpha, the elders and warriors stand united on this,” Marcus urged, leaning forward across the heavy oak table, his eyes glinting with ambition. “Daciana is wolfless. An Omega who has failed to provide an heir for five years. Vivian bled with you at the front lines and now carries your child. She deserves the ceremonial quarters, the Luna’s private guard, and an increased budget for prenatal care. You must think of the pack’s future.”

My knuckles whitened against the armrests of my chair. My patience snapped.

“Enough, Marcus,” I said, my voice dropping into a lethal, low growl that vibrated through the chamber floorboards. “Let me make one thing crystal clear to you and the entire council. What happened between Vivian and me was a drunken mistake. I will take full responsibility for the pup. That child will have my blood, my protection, and a place of honor within Whiteridge.”

I leaned forward, releasing a wave of Alpha dominance that forced the Beta to avert his gaze.

“But Daciana is my mate. She is your Luna, and she will remain your Luna until the day I draw my last breath. Do not test my tolerance on this matter again.”

Before Marcus could formulate another excuse, a sudden, violent jolt tore through my chest.

Inside my mind, my inner wolf reared back on his hind legs, claws digging into the recesses of my consciousness, howling in frantic, agonized panic.

Mate! the beast screamed, thrashing against our mental bond. She’s slipping away! Mate is in danger!

The air left my lungs.

Without uttering another word, I shoved back my heavy chair—the iron legs shrieking against the stone floor—and bolted out of the council room, leaving Marcus and the elders gaping in stunned silence.

I took the grand stairs three steps at a time, racing toward the master suite in the east wing.

“Daciana!” I called out, reaching the double doors.

The heavy iron bolt was pulled back. The door stood wide open.

I crossed the threshold into the room—and froze.

The suite was dead silent. The vanity was bare of her usual perfume bottles. The wardrobe stood slightly ajar, empty hangers swinging lightly in the draft.

No Daciana.

“Daciana?” My voice wavered, crackling with a terrifying spike of adrenaline.

I tore through the adjoining bathroom, checked the balcony, and ripped open the dressing rooms. Nothing. Only the faint, sweet scent of lilacs and vanilla—her scent—lingered faintly in the cold autumn air, already beginning to dissipate.

She ran.

A surge of hot panic and irrational anger flared in my chest. How dare she? Was she pulling a tantrum to force my hand? Running away like a defiant child because I had locked the door to let her cool down?

“Gamma Michael!” I roared, my Alpha voice tearing through the corridor with enough force to rattle the glass sconces.

Within seconds, Michael appeared at the doorway, panting, his eyes wide. “Alpha!”

“Where is my Luna?” I demanded, grabbing him by the front of his uniform tunic, my eyes blazing gold. “Where is she? Why was the guard absent from her door?”

Michael swallowed hard, his skin pale beneath his tan. “Alpha, I... I just received reports from the changing of the guard. You need to hear this.”

“Speak!” I barked, shoving him back.

Michael hesitated, looking toward the floor. “An hour after you went down to the council room, the Luna was banging on the door. She was pleading for water and food. The guard on duty, Warren... he refused her. He mocked her, saying that an insolent, wolfless Omega didn’t deserve pack resources. When she went quiet, he assumed she had simply stopped causing trouble. But according to the house staff, she had collapsed from dehydration and emotional strain.”

Blood roared in my ears like a tidal wave.

“He did what?” My voice dropped to a terrifying whisper.

“Warren claimed he was following your orders to discipline her,” Michael stammered.

“Bring him to the dungeon!” I bellowed, the sheer force of my rage knocking a vase off the mantle, shattering it against the floor. “Strip him of his warrior rank and put him in iron chains! No one—no one—treats the Luna of this pack like a stray animal! I will deal with his skin myself!”

“Yes, Alpha!” Michael saluted, terror in his eyes.

“And what about Vivian?” I snapped, my predatory instincts locking onto another discrepancy. “Why was the lock open? Who unlocked the door?”

At that moment, a soft, trembling voice sounded from the doorway.

“Dominic...”

Vivian stood there, leaning against the doorframe, wrapped in a woolen shawl. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face pale.

“Vivian,” I growled, closing the distance between us. “Did you come up here? Did you open this door?”

Vivian shrank back slightly, clutching her stomach with both hands. “I... I heard coughing from the room while passing by. The guard was gone on patrol. I opened the door and found Daciana unconscious on the floor. I brought cold water to wake her and tried to help her up, but... but the moment she opened her eyes, she became completely hysterical.”

Vivian began to sob softly, hiding her face in her hands.

“She looked at me with so much hatred, Dominic. She screamed that she would despise you and me until the end of time. She cursed the pup in my womb, saying our child would die before it took its first breath. I was terrified for the baby, so I backed away. I never imagined she would pack a bag and abandon you... abandon the pack.”

I stared at Vivian, my chest heaving.

Daciana cursed an unborn pup?

Every fiber of my instincts recoiled at the thought. In the five years we had spent together, Daciana had never uttered a malicious curse at anyone. When the pack elders publicly humiliated her at banquets, she had swallowed her tears and served them tea. When pack children laughed at her for having no wolf, she had baked them honey biscuits. Gentle, patient, selfless Daciana.

Would she truly say such vile things?

Or had I pushed her past the brink of her sanity?

“Get out,” I said coldly, turning my back on Vivian.

“Dominic, please—”

“I said get out!” I snarled without turning around.

Vivian flinched, stepping back into the hall, and Michael quickly escorted her away.

The bedroom fell back into a tomb-like stillness.

I sank onto the edge of the mattress, burying my head in my hands. The sheets still carried the faint trace of her skin. The thought of her words echoed in my ears: Divorce me, Dominic. Set me free.

Regret began to gnaw at my gut like acid.

I had locked her in here. I had allowed my guards to treat her like a prisoner. I had brought Vivian into our home, stripped Daciana of the nursery she had worked on for months, and expected her to simply bow her head and accept another woman’s child.

I had broken her.

My eyes swept across the empty room, looking for any clue, any note she might have left behind.

Then, my gaze caught something on the nightstand, hidden half-shadowed behind the brass lamp base.

A small silver box, wrapped in delicate silk ribbon.

My breath caught.

Yesterday, when I rode into the courtyard, she had been holding that very box against her emerald green dress. In the storm of accusations and Vivian's sudden stomach pains, she had hidden it behind her back.

With trembling fingers, I reached out and lifted the box.

The silk ribbon was frayed where her fingers had crushed it. I untied the knot, my heart beating in uneven, erratic thuds against my ribs.

I lifted the lid.

Sitting nestled inside white velvet was a slender white stick.

Across the narrow display window, stark and unmistakable, were two bright pink lines.

Positive.

My world stopped.

The air vanished from the room. My vision tunneled into those two impossible, brilliant lines.

“I’m pregnant too.”

Her voice echoed through the silence of the suite, shattering me into a million pieces.

“Don't make jokes like that, sweetheart... Are you sure you aren't just letting your desperation trick you?”

My own cruel, dismissive reply echoed back at me like a curse.

She hadn't been lying. She hadn't been desperate. She had conceived our child—the miracle we had prayed to the Moon Goddess for five agonizing years to receive.

And I had dismissed it as a pathetic delusion. I had refused to send away the woman who had disgraced our vows. I had locked my pregnant mate in a room without water until she collapsed, and then allowed her to walk out into the freezing wilderness alone.

“No...” The word tore from my throat in a raw, strangled gasp. “No, no, no...”

A mother with no wolf, carrying an unborn pup, alone in the rogue-infested woods at night.

A feral, agonizing roar ripped from the depths of my soul, shaking the entire packhouse down to its foundation.

“Michael!” I screamed, charging into the corridor, clutching the pregnancy test against my chest like a dying lifeline. “Sound the alarm! Mobilize every warrior, every tracker, every hound in the territory! Seal the borders! Find my Luna and bring her home at all costs!”