Chapter 3

The silence that followed Aurora's question was so thick that even the servants seemed afraid to move.

Selene stood completely still, fingers tightening around the strap of her handbag.

Aurora"s smile slowly faltered as she looked around and read the room. "Oh no, I didn't mean it like that," she said quickly, pressing a hand to her chest. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I was just surprised, I didn't know Damien had gotten married." She laughed awkwardly.

Selene looked at Damien. Just for a second. Long enough to wait for him to say something, to correct Aurora, to introduce her properly as his wife.

He said nothing. His expression didn't change at all.

She didn't know why she was still surprised. Three years of marriage had given her plenty of time to understand exactly where she stood with Damien Blackwood. She had walked into this marriage with her whole heart, convinced herself that love could be built slowly, that patience and care would eventually mean something to him. She had tried everything , learned his preferences, managed his household without complaint, stood beside him at every pack function with a smile on her face even when he'd barely acknowledged her existence. She had made herself available, made herself agreeable, made herself as easy to be around as she possibly could.

And every time she'd thought something was shifting between them, he'd found a way to bring her back to earth.

"This is a duty marriage, Selene. Don't make it into something it isn't."

He'd said it without cruelty, which had somehow made it worse. Like her feelings were a mild inconvenience he didn't have the bandwidth to deal with.

The worst part was the nights he came to her room. She had never been naive enough to believe those visits meant what she wanted them to mean, but she had hoped anyway, because she was foolish like that when it came to him. He would come to her in the dark, and she would let him, every single time, telling herself that maybe this time was different, that maybe closeness of that kind meant something was growing between them even if he couldn't say it out loud. But it never took long to understand the truth. He came because it was convenient. Because she was there and she was willing and he knew, with complete certainty, that she would never turn him away. He knew she loved him. He had always known. And he had never once pretended that he felt the same — he'd simply made use of the fact that she did. In the morning he would be gone, and the careful distance would return, and she would be left to quietly put herself back together before breakfast.

She had let it happen more times than she could count. And she had nobody to blame but herself.

That silence now hurt more than Aurora's words ever could.

Aurora seemed to notice the tension. "I really am sorry," she added, her smile strained.

"It's fine," Selene said quietly.

Aurora looked relieved. "Thank goodness. I thought I'd offended you."

The irony almost made Selene laugh. Almost.

"I'll excuse myself," she said, and walked away before anyone could respond. Nobody stopped her. Not even Damien.

She made it to her bedroom, closed the door, and leaned against it. Then her composure finally cracked. She squeezed her eyes shut as everything crashed into her at once — the pregnancy, Aurora's return, Damien's smile, the way he'd introduced her with just her name like she was someone he vaguely knew, and that awful silence.

She opened her handbag. The tiny white baby shoes stared back at her and tears filled her eyes before she could stop them. A few hours ago those shoes had felt like the beginning of something. Like proof that the universe was finally giving her something good. She had stood outside that baby store and let herself believe, just for a little while, that this news would be the thing that changed everything. That Damien would look at her differently. That she would finally stop feeling like a placeholder in her own marriage.

She sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand over her stomach. That was enough to steady her. She wiped her face and stood. She refused to cry over Damien tonight, not after receiving the best news of her life.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Damien stood by the window of his father's sitting room, arms crossed, his jaw set in the way it always was when his mind was already made up and he was simply waiting for everyone else to accept it. 

"Damien." Gerald's voice was measured. "I need you to think about this."

"I have."

"Have you?" Gerald studied his son. "Your grandmother is ill. She's been asking about Selene. If she finds out you're doing this now, in her condition..."

"I'll speak to her myself," Damien said.

"And say what exactly?" Gerald pressed. "That you're throwing away the wife she chose for you the moment your ex-girlfriend walks back through the door?"

The word ex-girlfriend seemed to irritate Damien. His expression tightened. "Aurora is not just..."

"I know who Aurora is," Gerald said quietly. "That's exactly why I'm asking you to be careful."

Before Damien could respond, the sitting room door opened and Diana swept in — Gerald's wife, poised and perfectly dressed as always, with the particular energy of a woman who had been listening from the other side of the door for several minutes.

"Gerald, leave him alone," she said, settling herself into the armchair like the conversation was already beneath her. "He's a grown man. He doesn't need your permission to make decisions about his own marriage."

Gerald turned to look at her. "Diana"

"Selene was never right for him," she continued, her tone light but her words deliberate. "Everyone in this family knows it. His grandmother made that match based on sentiment, not sense. If Damien has finally found the clarity to correct it, then we should be supporting him, not standing in his way."

There was nothing subtle about Diana's feelings toward Selene. She had made them plain from the very first day, in the small cutting ways that never left obvious marks — a dismissive comment here, a pointed look there, a habit of speaking about Selene in rooms where Selene was standing. Gerald had never pushed back hard enough, and Damien had never pushed back at all.

Gerald looked at his son. "Is that really how you feel? You want to end this marriage?"

Damien was quiet for a moment. Then, "I never loved her, Dad. I want you to understand that. I tried to be fair to her. I gave her a home, a name, everything she needed. But I never loved her." He paused, and something shifted in his expression — something that looked almost like relief. "Aurora is back. The woman I actually love is back. That changes everything."

"And your grandmother?"

"I'll go to her myself and make her understand." His voice was firm, final. "She loves me. She'll want me to be happy."

Gerald looked at his son for a long moment, something heavy moving behind his eyes. Then he sighed and said nothing more.

Diana looked satisfied.

And down the hall, in her bedroom, Selene sat on the edge of her bed with her hand over her stomach, completely unaware that her marriage had just been discussed and dismissed like an item on a business agenda.

She had just managed to compose herself when she heard footsteps stop outside her door. A knock — not the soft hesitant kind a maid would give. Sharp. Deliberate.

She already knew who it was before she opened it.

Damien stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable, his hands in his pockets.

"Come to my study," he said. "I need to discuss something important."

The tone was the one he reserved for business with no warmth in it at all. It was the same tone he used the morning after he came to her room, when everything between them reset to professional distance and she was expected to pretend the night before hadn't happened. She had gotten very good at pretending.

She looked at him for a moment and then she nodded.

She followed him anyway, because that was what she had always done.

The walk felt heavier with every step. When they entered the study she noticed it immediately — a thick stack of papers sitting on his desk.

Damien picked up the file and slid it across the desk toward her.

She looked down at the title.

DIVORCE AGREEMENT, with his signature boldly signed on it.

Her blood ran cold.