CHAPTER 2

"So… how was last night with the Ice King?"

I looked up from my untouched latte as Mason Clarke practically vibrated in the chair opposite me. We were at the Iron Brew Café in Manchester, a place where the scent of roasted beans usually masked the heavy musk of the local pack members who frequented it. Today, even the strongest espresso couldn't hide the scent of my own misery. I had spent the night in the guest wing of the Blackwood Estate, staring at the ceiling until the sun bled through the curtains. Sebastian had left for morning practice at the arena before dawn; I hadn't even heard his car pull away.

"Did you finally crack that glacier?" Mason leaned in, his eyes bright with that relentless curiosity. "Should I be looking for tiny hockey skates or a baby wolf onesie yet? Give me the scorching details, Elena."

I took a slow, painful sip of my drink, the liquid scalding my throat. "The only thing that caught fire last night was my dignity, Mason. It’s over."

"Wait, what?" Mason’s playful grin vanished instantly. He straightened up, his protective instincts as a Beta flared, making the air around him feel slightly denser. "What do you mean 'over'? Elena, you’ve been the backbone of that pack for three years. You’re the Luna of the Blackwood Group."

"I’m a placeholder," I corrected him, my voice cracking despite my best efforts. "I was a business transaction to settle my father’s debts. And now? The 'real' Luna is back. Valentina Cruz is back in the city, Mason. And she isn't coming back empty-handed."

I pulled my phone from my bag and slid it across the reclaimed wood table. The image of Sebastian—my cold, untouchable husband—looking at Valentina with a tenderness that could melt the Arctic was bad enough. The sonogram attached to the thread was the killing blow.

"She’s pregnant," I whispered. "The timeline... it matches his trip to London for the European Screen Awards. While I was here handling the pack’s logistics and keeping Doña Carmen happy, he was starting a legacy with her."

Mason stared at the screen, his jaw tightening. "That bastard. He’s the captain of the Ice Kings, the face of the North, and he’s out here pulling this? Elena, if this gets out, the pack hierarchy will crumble. The scandal alone—"

"I don't care about the scandal anymore," I snapped, a sudden spark of Navarro fire lighting up in my chest. "I care about my life. I’ve spent three years waiting at the station for a train that was never scheduled to arrive. My mother is still in a coma at St. Mary’s, and my father, Fernando, will probably howl at the moon in rage when he finds out I’m walking away from the Blackwood fortune, but I’m done."

"So, what's the move?" Mason asked, sliding the phone back.

"I’ve already contacted Sophie Grant," I said, leaning back and feeling a strange, cold clarity wash over me. "I used Sebastian’s black card last night to retain her. I told her I wanted the divorce papers drafted and ready by noon. If he wants a child so badly, he can have one—just not with me."

"You used his own money to hire the most ruthless divorce lawyer in the Northwest?" Mason let out a low whistle, a hint of a smirk returning. "That’s my girl. But are you sure? You loved him, Elena. I saw the way you looked at him during the games, like he was the only wolf in the arena."

"I loved a ghost," I said firmly. "Last night, when he told me I was nothing but a 'convenience' before walking out to scrub my scent off his skin, that love died. I’m moving out today. I was hoping your guest room was still available?"

"Available? Elena, I’ll have the keys ready before you can pack your first suitcase. We’ll have a proper 'Single Luna' night at the Iron Chain Bar. You deserve to live for yourself for once, not for the Blackwood legacy."

I managed a small, genuine smile. "Thanks, Mason. I need to get back to the estate, grab my things, and leave those papers on his mahogany desk in the study. I want them to be the first thing he sees when he gets back from the rink."

Just as I stood to leave, my phone began to vibrate. The caller ID made my stomach do a nauseating flip. Isabella Blackwood.

"Speaking of the devil’s kin," I muttered, showing the screen to Mason. I answered with a strained, professional tone. "Hello, Isabella."

"Elena, darling," my sister-in-law’s voice purred through the speaker, layered with that faux-warmth that always felt like silk over a dagger. "I was just calling to check if you'd finalized the appointment at the Manchester Andrology Centre? My mother is becoming quite impatient for news of an heir, and you know how Doña Carmen gets when she feels the lineage is stalling."

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the edge of the table. "I’ve been... occupied, Isabella."

"Well, don't be droll, dear. Sebastian’s career on the ice won't last forever, and the pack needs to see a future. There are plenty of high-society she-wolves who would kill for your position. Don't give them a reason to start circling."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, my voice dripping with an irony she couldn't possibly grasp yet. "Give my regards to the family."

I hung up before she could respond. The audacity of it—Isabella pushing me toward a fertility clinic while her brother was already nesting with his ex.

"I have to go," I told Mason, grabbing my coat. "I have a life to reclaim, and a very expensive pen to use on those papers."

"Go get 'em, Elena," Mason said, standing up to give me a quick, grounding hug. "The Blackwoods don't know what they’re losing, but they’re about to find out."

I walked out of the café and toward my car, the Manchester wind biting at my face. For three years, I had been the perfect, silent mate. Today, the silence was ending. Sebastian Blackwood wanted a legacy? Fine. He just wouldn't find it in me.