Chapter 5: The Gates of Regret

The iron gates of the Midnight Moon fortress groaned as they swung open, revealing a world of tension and bared teeth. I stood ten paces behind Killian, my fingers digging into the wool of my black dress. My heart was a frantic bird in my chest, and my pregnancy made me feel dizzy in the midday sun.

Silas stood on the other side of the neutral zone, flanked by six of his elite Silver Crest warriors. He looked powerful, his Alpha aura radiating off him in waves that made the grass at his feet wither. But his face was different.

There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked like a man who hadn't slept since the rain began. When his eyes landed on me, I saw a flash of something I never expected: pure, raw desperation.

Killian didn't move. He stood with his arms crossed, a smirk playing on his scarred lips. The physical tension between the two men was a living thing, vibrating in the air like a coming storm. "You’re a long way from home, Silas. I don't remember inviting the Silver Crest pack for tea."

“Give her back, Killian,” Silas growled, his voice a low vibration that shook the very ground. He didn't look at Killian; his eyes remained locked on mine, burning with a mix of possessiveness and pain. “The divorce was a mistake. She’s my mate. She belongs in my territory.”

Genevieve stepped out from behind Silas’s warriors. She looked beautiful in her silk dress, but her eyes were filled with a frantic fury. “Silas, stop this! You signed the papers. She’s a nobody! Let the enemy have his trash!”

Silas didn't even turn to look at her. It was as if she didn't exist. He took a step forward, crossing into the neutral zone. Killian’s wolves growled, their claws sliding out with a metallic click, but Killian raised a hand to stay them. Silas stopped just a few feet from me, the scent of sandalwood and rain hitting me like a physical wave.

“Elara,” Silas whispered. It was the first time I had heard him say my name without ice in his voice. “I didn't think you’d actually leave. I didn't think you’d go to him. Come home. We can tear up the papers. We can forget any of this happened.”

I looked at Silas, the man I had worshipped for three years from the shadows. I looked at Genevieve, who was trembling with rage. And then I looked at Killian, who was watching me with a silent, testing gaze. I realized that Silas didn't want me; he wanted his property back. He wanted the shadow that didn't talk back. He wanted his pride back.

“I didn't leave, Silas,” I said. My voice was quiet, but in the silence of the yard, it sounded like a thunderclap. “You threw me out. You stood in your office and told me I was a debt that had been paid.”

Silas winced, his Alpha aura flickering like a dying flame. “I was angry. I was pressured. Genevieve said…”

“I don't care what she said,” I interrupted, stepping forward until I was inches from him. I could see the golden flecks in his eyes. I could smell the familiar heat of his skin. But for the first time, it didn't make me want to bow. “You gave me a divorce, Silas. You gave me an hour to pack. And now, I am under the protection of a man who actually sees me.”

I reached out and did something I never would have dared to do a week ago. I touched the Alpha’s chest, pushing him back. “Go home, Silas. Go back to your mansion and your mistress. The shadow is dead.”

Silas looked like I had driven a silver blade into his heart. He reached for my hand, his fingers brushing mine, but Killian was there in a blur, gripping Silas’s wrist. The two Alphas stood chest-to-chest, the ground beneath them trembling from the force of their clashing powers.

“She gave you her answer,” Killian hissed, his obsidian eyes glowing with a terrifying light. “Now get off my land before I decide to keep your head as a trophy.”

Silas looked at me one last time. There was a question in his eyes, a sudden, sharp suspicion as he looked at the way I was holding my bag against my stomach. But he didn't have the proof. He turned around, his shoulders slumped like a broken man, and walked back to his warriors. Genevieve followed him, screaming insults that no one listened to.

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, but it was followed by a sharp, stabbing pain in my abdomen. I gasped, my knees buckling, and Killian caught me before I hit the dirt. His hands were large and warm, but I could feel my own blood soaking into the wool of my dress.

“Elara?” Killian asked, his voice losing its mocking edge and turning into something frantic.

I looked down. A dark red stain was blooming on the skirt of my black dress. The "torture" of the day had been too much for my weakened body. The secret heir was in danger, and Silas was still watching from the treeline, his eyes narrowed in realization.

“The baby,” I whispered, clutching Killian’s shirt with trembling fingers. “Killian, save my baby.”