Chapter 2

Darius POV

The door closed behind Kaelira. The echo lingered longer than it should.

I remained standing where she left me, staring at the space she occupied. The air still carried her scent, faint lavender, steel beneath it.

Divorce.

The word scraped against my thoughts.

She had never asked for anything in seven years.

Not jewels, influence and affection.

And today she asked for freedom.

I exhaled slowly and returned to my desk. Papers wait. Reports from the western border. A petition from the council. Numbers that refused to stabilize.

Work is simple and predictable. Mates are not.

I signed one document harder than necessary. The pen ripped slightly through parchment.

She should not have gone to the healer alone.

The thought came uninvited.

I dismissed it.

Her wolf's withdrawal is stressful. Wolves react to weakness.

And Kaelira has been fragile lately.

Too quiet.

Too distant.

The pack notices.

The council notices more.

No heir.

Seven years.

Seven years of questions dressed as concern.

“When will Luna conceive?”

“Is the bond strong?”

“Should we consider alternatives?”

Alternatives.

I leaned back in my chair, jaw tightening.

I never wanted a political Luna.

I wanted strength beside me. Fire. A partner who could command a room without lowering her eyes.

When Father told me Kaelira Vale was my fated mate, I believed him.

Alpha Magnus never spoke lightly of fate.

“You will marry her,” he said. “But you will not complete the bond.”

I was nineteen.

I asked why.

He looked at me for a long time before answering.

“Because prophecy is not a blessing. It is a warning.”

He never explained further.

Only that sealing the bond, marking her fully—lnwould “awaken what must remain dormant.”

I obeyed.

I always obeyed him.

Even after he died.

Seven years of restraint.

Seven years of distance.

And now she stands in my office asking why I never chose her.

I rubbed a hand over my chest.

When I called her my mate just now… something flickered in her eyes.

Not longing.

Not anger.

Recoil.

It unsettled me.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.

I didn’t answer.

The door opened anyway.

Seraphine stepped inside. She never waited for permission.

Her scent reached me first, sweet, deliberate. She closed the door gently behind her, studying my expression.

“She came to see you,” she said.

I didn't ask how she knows.

Seraphine always knows.

“She wants a divorce,” I replied.

Seraphine’s lips curve faintly. Not a smile but something sharper.

“She is emotional.”

“She believes her wolf is dying.”

“Perhaps it is.” She shrugged lightly, moving closer to my desk. “Not all wolves are meant to lead.”

My eyes lifted to hers.

She lowered her gaze just enough to soften the edge.

“I did not mean disrespect,” she murmured, circling around the desk. “I only meant… some women are not built for the weight of Luna.”

She stopped beside me.

Her fingers brush my shoulder, light and testing. I didn't move away.

“She is weak, Darius,” Seraphine continued quietly. “The pack feels it. The council whispers.”

“I know what they whisper.”

“Then why protect her pride?”

My jaw tightened.

“I am not protecting her pride.”

“No.” Seraphine’s fingers slide down my arm. “You are protecting a decision you did not choose.”

Her words struck closer than they should.

I prefer duty.

I chose an alliance.

I chose restraint.

I did not choose longing.

Seraphine stepped in front of me now, close enough that her breath warmed my throat.

“I would never fail you,” she said softly.

Her hand rests over my heart.

Unlike Kaelira, Seraphine does not hesitate to touch.

Unlike Kaelira, she does not look at me as though I am withholding something sacred.

With Seraphine, there is no expectation of destiny.

Only desire.

“You carry everything alone,” she continued. “The council pressures you. The borders strain. And she asks for divorce?”

Her brows knitted slightly.

“She does not understand what it takes to stand beside an Alpha.”

My silence is answer enough.

Seraphine studied my face carefully.

Then she took my hand.

And placed it against her stomach.

The gesture is subtle.

But deliberate.

I frown slightly. “Seraphine…”

“I went to the healer this morning.”

My pulse slowed.

“She confirmed it.”

Her fingers tightened over mine, pressing my palm more firmly against her abdomen.

“I am with child.”

The room goes still.

For a moment, I hear nothing.

Seven years.

Seven years of emptiness.

Seven years of waiting for proof that fate had not deceived us.

And now…

With Seraphine?

“That is not possible,” I said quietly.

Her chin lifted. “It is.”

My mind raced

Kaelira never conceived.

Not once.

We tried in the early years. Timed cycles. Rituals. Blessings from elders.

Nothing.

Eventually, the attempts became an obligation.

Then they became silent.

But Seraphine..

I instinctively search for her scent.

There is something different.

Warmer.

Alive.

“You are certain?” I asked.

She nodded. “I would not lie about this.”

No. She would not.

Not about this.

A strange mixture of relief and unease coils inside me.

An heir.

The council would fall silent overnight.

The whispers would stop.

The pack would stabilize.

Fate works in ways we do not understand.

Perhaps Kaelira was never meant to carry my child.

Perhaps the prophecy Father feared was never about barrenness.

But about bloodlines.

Seraphine watched me carefully.

“You deserve an heir,” she said softly. “One who will strengthen your legacy.”

My fingers slowly withdraw from her stomach.

“This cannot reach the council yet.”

Her eyes flickered. “You are ashamed?”

“No.”

I moved away, pacing once across the room.

“Timing matters.”

“And Kaelira?”

Her name hung between us.

I didn't answer immediately.

Kaelira’s face flashed in my mind pale but steady. Demanding a mark. Demanding truth.

If I tell her now..

She will shatter.

And a fractured Luna invites rebellion.

“I will handle Kaelira,” I said finally.

Seraphine studied me, then nodded slowly.

“As you wish.”

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

Soft.

Claiming.

Then she moved toward the door.

Before she left, she paused.

“She is not strong enough for what is coming,” Seraphine said quietly. “You know that.”

The door closed behind her.

Silence filled the room again.

An heir.

The word should bring triumph.

Instead.

A sharp pain sliced through my chest.

I stiffened.

It is sudden. Precise.

Not physical.

Deeper.

Like something thin and fragile snapping under pressure.

I pressed a hand to my sternum.

The sensation lingers only a second.

But it left a cold in its wake.

A bond does not react like that.

Not unless.

I straightened slowly.

And for the first time in seven years. I wonder if something had just broken beyond repair.