Chapter Four: Dumped Me Because Of Her

Clara made a sound and clung tighter to Rowan.

Her face went pale. She swayed on her feet like she might fall over. One hand pressed against her forehead.

"I feel dizzy," she whispered. "It's too much. I need to get out of here."

Rowan's jaw tightened. He stared at the divorce papers like he wanted to rip them apart. Then he looked up at me.

"We'll talk about the baby later," he said coldly. "Schedule the procedure and tell me the date."

My blood ran cold.

"No," I said. "I'm not doing it."

Rowan stepped forward and grabbed my upper arm. Not hard enough to bruise. But hard enough to remind me who he was. And who I was to him.

"Are you really sure about divorcing me huh?" he asked. "I know how much you love me. So don't think you can play pranks with me."

I tried to pull away. My hands pushed against his chest.

"Let go of me," I said. My voice shook. "You're hurting me."

I pushed harder. "Rowan, let go. Please."

He released me.

Tears streamed down my face. I didn't want to cry here but I couldn't help it. How could he treat me this way when he knows how much I love him?

I stared down at the place where he held me and then back at him. His unreadable expression stared back at me.

He didn't say another word. Just staring at me.

Clara coughed. The sound broke the moment.

Rowan rushed over to her. He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. His hands were gentle just like the way they used to be with me.

My heart broke watching them. What exactly does he want from me?

Clara pressed her hand to her chest.

"I need to get out of here," she said weakly. "I've been too stressed. I'm worried I might faint."

"You're going to be okay," Rowan said.

He lifted her up and carried her in his arms. He began to walk away when he suddenly paused. He didn't turn to me.

"Don't think about playing any pranks with me," he said. "Just stay here and rest."

His betas appeared behind me. He ordered them not to allow me outside until he says otherwise. Then he walked away with Clara in his arms.

I ran towards the entrance but the door locked.

"Rowan, what the hell are you doing?"

—

They kept me locked in our old bedroom for two full days.

Guards stood outside the door around the clock. I heard their low murmurs. The occasional shuffle of boots. The scrape of a chair when one of them sat down. Food trays arrived three times a day. Simple meals of broth, bread, fruit. But no one spoke to me beyond a curt "Do you need the bathroom?" before the door was locked again.

On the third morning I woke to Clara's voice drifting through the hallway. Bright and excited like a teenager planning a sleepover.

"Can I really move in here? We haven't shared a house since college!"

My blood turned to ice.

The lock clicked. The door swung open.

Clara bounced in first. Cheeks flushed. Eyes sparkling. Rowan followed more slowly. His expression was unreadable. She spun in a slow circle. Taking in the high ceilings. The wide windows that let in soft morning light. The king-sized bed still rumpled from my restless night.

"I was thinking," she said, clasping her hands together, "this room has the best light. I get such terrible headaches in dim places. Would it be okay if I stayed here?"

Rowan's gaze shifted to me where I sat on the edge of the mattress. One hand protectively over my belly.

"Give the room to Clara," he said quietly.

I stood slowly. My joints ached from too many hours curled on my side.

"So she's moving in for good? Fine. Sign the papers, reject me, and I'll leave today."

Clara's eyes immediately brimmed with tears. "If it makes Ava this upset, I'll find another room. I don't want to cause trouble."

Rowan exhaled through his nose. The sound was heavy with exhaustion. "Ava, you're being difficult. Clara is sick. She needs comfort."

"I'm carrying your child and you're locking me in here like a prisoner?"

He rubbed a hand over his face. "Just move downstairs. There's a spare room."

Within minutes maids appeared. Two young she-wolves who avoided my eyes as they began folding my clothes into suitcases. Gathering books from the nightstand. Stripping the bed of my favorite quilt.

I stood in the doorway and watched them erase me from the space Rowan and I had once chosen together.

The new room was on the ground floor at the back of the house. It had clearly been used for storage. Faint dust clung to the corners. The single narrow window looked out on a blank brick wall.

A narrow single bed had been shoved against one wall. A chipped dresser against another. No mirror. No rug. Just cold floorboards and silence.

Later that afternoon Clara appeared in the doorway holding a small white plate covered with a cloth napkin.

"I've been craving those little lemon cakes you used to make for Rowan," she said sweetly, tilting her head. "Could you show the cook how? I haven't tasted them in forever."

I remembered those cakes. I used to pack them in Rowan's lunch when we were newly mated. When he still kissed me goodbye every morning and told me they were his favorite thing in the world. I never knew Clara had eaten them too.

Rowan hesitated in the hallway behind her. "The cook can learn the recipe from the written instructions."

Clara pouted. Her lower lip trembled just enough. "But it won't taste the same. Please, Ava? I might not eat otherwise."

Rowan's eyes met mine and I knew what comes next. He seriously wouldn't ask me to make those cakes, would he?

I watched him rake his hand through his hair. His face showed nothing as he spoke.

"Clara is sick. Just make them."

Clara set the plate down on the dresser. She turned away. Her shoulders shook like she was crying.

Rowan's eyes went dark. His jaw clenched.

"You're doing this on purpose to upset her."

That night Clara fainted again.

She collapsed in the main hallway. The thud echoed loud enough for everyone to hear.

Rowan scooped her up in his arms. He carried her upstairs to the big bedroom. Our bedroom. And stayed there until dawn.

I heard his footsteps coming back just before sunrise. Heard the door close softly.

After that the guards got meaner.

My meals came cold and late. Sometimes they "forgot" my water. When I tried to sleep they banged on the door at strange hours. Said they were "checking on me." I could only sleep in short bits.

Then one evening the pain started.

Low in my belly at first. Sharp and twisting. Not like the practice contractions I'd felt before. I lifted my nightgown and saw bright red blood on my thighs.

Fear shot through me.

I pounded on the door. "I need the hospital! Now!"

One guard laughed through the wood. "No orders from the Alpha."

I grabbed my phone from the dresser. My hands shook as I called Rowan. It rang forever.

When he finally answered, his voice sounded tight. "Clara's in the emergency room. I'm staying with her."

"I'm bleeding. I think the baby's coming early."

I cried into the phone. Silence on the other end. When he didn't speak, I called his name.

"Rowan?"