Chapter 2

Elara's POV

I walked back to my small room that night with my brother's words still echoing in my head. A wife. A son. I lay on my furs and stared at the ceiling, trying to imagine what it would actually mean to make a child with the Southern prisoner.

I was not completely ignorant of such things. I had grown up on the training grounds and in the breeding pens, where the pack's sheep were bred every spring.

I had seen warriors return from victories and celebrate loudly, sometimes having sex with several women at once, their laughter and grunts carrying through the camp late into the night.

In the Northern Pack, sex was as ordinary as eating meat or drinking water. Nobody hid it. Nobody was ashamed of it.

But I myself had never done it.

Having seen so much of it over the years, though, I assumed it could not be so difficult. Bodies simply came together. That was all. I turned onto my side and closed my eyes, deciding not to think about it further.

The next morning, I returned to the kitchen early to start the fires. Brenna was already there, chopping roots for the evening stew, but it was another woman, Sable, who caught my attention.

Sable was older, with two children who often ran through the kitchen chasing each other with wooden spoons.

"You look pale, girl," Sable said, glancing up from her work. "Did you not sleep?"

I hesitated, then set down the water jug I was carrying. "Sable, can I ask you something?"

"Ask away."

"Does childbirth hurt?"

Sable's eyebrows lifted, and a small smile crossed her face. "Where did that question come from? Yes, it hurts. It hurts more than any wound you will get in battle, I promise you that." She wiped her hands on her apron and leaned against the table. "But why do you ask?"

I looked down at the jug in my hands, unsure how to answer. "I only wondered."

Sable studied me for a moment, then her smile widened knowingly. "Ah. I heard the rumor. The King wants you to bear a child with the Southern wolf, the prisoner."

My face went hot. "You heard already?"

"News travels fast in this pack, girl. You should know that by now." Sable chuckled and went back to chopping. "Do not worry so much. Childbirth is painful, yes. But making the child, that part does not have to hurt. If your man knows what he is doing, and if he cares even a little for you, it can feel very good."

"Good?" I repeated, unconvinced.

"Good," Sable said firmly. "I had two children, you know. My first husband, may his spirit rest, was gentle with me even though he was a strong warrior. My second husband, his brother, was rougher, but he learned to listen to what I needed. Both times, once I stopped being afraid, it felt like something worth wanting."

I chewed on my lip. "But the prisoner is Southern. He is not like our warriors."

"I heard he fought like a monster in that last battle," Sable said, her eyes gleaming with interest. "They say he nearly took your brother's head off before Kane finally brought him down. A man who fights that fiercely is usually just as capable in other things."

She winked. "You should count yourself lucky. Some of us get stuck with husbands who cannot do either well."

My cheeks burned even hotter, and my heart began to race in a strange, fluttering way I did not fully understand. Still, doubt crept into my mind.

"I have heard other things too," I said quietly. "I have heard how our warriors treat the Southern women they capture. I have heard them cry at night."

Sable's smile faded a little. "That is different. Those women are taken by force, by men who do not care whether they are willing or not. That is not what you are describing."

"Is it not?" I asked. "I did not choose this either. The King commanded it."

Sable had no answer for that. She only shook her head and returned to her chopping, the knife striking the wooden board in quick, steady beats.

I picked up my jug again and walked out of the kitchen, my mind heavier than before.

There was no use pretending otherwise. It was the Alpha King's command, and in the Northern Pack, the King's word was law above all else. Not even Kane, the strongest warrior in the entire pack, could stand against it.

I had watched him bow his head to the King many times, even after winning battle after battle, because that was simply how things worked here.

I thought of everything Kane had done for me. He was not truly my father, though he had raised me like one since I was small.

Our mother, a Southern wolf taken as a breeder, had died giving me life, and our status had been low from the very beginning, mixed blood, unwanted, tolerated only because the pack needed more bodies.

Kane had fought for every scrap of respect we now had. He had bled for it, again and again, trading pieces of himself in battle so that I would never again know the hunger of our childhood.

I did not want to make his life any harder than it already was. If this was what the King demanded, and if it would help secure Kane's position, then I would do it without complaint.

That evening, the pack gathered for a victory feast. Long tables filled the great hall, piled high with roasted meat, bread, and mead. Fires roared in the corners, casting orange light across the room.

The King sat at the head table, and when Kane entered, the King rose and called out his name with pride.

"Kane!" the King boomed. "Our strongest warrior, who captured the Southern Alpha's son with his own hands! Come, sit beside me."

The hall erupted into cheers. Kane bowed his head and took his seat, and the King ordered furs, gold, and other spoils brought forward as a reward for his victory.

I sat beside my brother, watching the celebration with an uneasy stomach.

At the other tables, warrior leaders sat with women draped around them, women who were not even given seats of their own, only allowed to kneel or stand nearby, refilling cups and serving food like servants rather than people. I had seen this a hundred times before, but tonight, knowing what awaited me, it made me feel sick in a new way.

Kane glanced at me and noticed the tension in my shoulders. He leaned closer, his voice low beneath the noise of the feast.

"Elara. Do you truly not want to go through with this?"

I hesitated before answering. If I said no, if I refused the King's command, it would be seen as defiance. Our lives, the careful peace and comfort Kane had built for us over the years, would fall apart. I could not allow that.

"I am only nervous," I said finally, shaking my head.

Kane studied my face for a long moment, then stood and gently pulled me away from the feast, out into the quieter hallway beyond the great hall.

Once we were alone, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small glass bottle. The moment I caught the smell of it, sharp and metallic, I knew immediately what it was.

"Deer blood," I said.

"Mixed with the witch's brew," Kane confirmed. He held the bottle out to me. "It heightens a man's urges. You have seen the warriors drink it before, when they go to the women."

I took the bottle carefully, feeling its weight in my palm. "Why do I need this?"

"Because he is wounded, and stubborn, and half dead from the whip," Kane said. "This will help matters move faster than they otherwise might."

I turned the bottle over in my hands, saying nothing.

Kane's expression grew serious, heavier than I had seen in a long while. "Elara, listen to me. The peace we have built, the respect we finally have in this pack, it was not easy to earn. I will not let it be ruined now, not when we are this close."

"I know," I said quietly.

"The silver chain has already been removed from his wrists," Kane continued. "If you do not go to him tonight, the King will simply send another woman in your place. And you know as well as I do what kind of woman that might be."

I thought of the woman I had seen leaving other cells before, the harsh laughter, the way some of them treated captured men as nothing more than toys to break. I thought of Lucian, already broken enough by the whip and the aconite oil.

I closed my hand around the bottle. "I will go."

Kane placed a hand on my shoulder, something close to relief passing over his face. "Be careful," he said simply.

I nodded, tucked the bottle into the fold of my dress, and left, my heart pounding harder with every step I took.