Pup on the Way

~ANORA~

I wake the next morning feeling completely disoriented. My head pounds like someone is hammering nails into my skull, and nausea rolls through my stomach in sickening waves.

For a few blissful seconds, I float in that hazy grace period where I don’t know where I am or even who I am. Then reality crashes back. The chamber is unfamiliar, with dark oak furniture, heavy velvet hangings, the faint scent of clean linen and something faintly masculine I can’t place. I am in an inn.

My heart slams against my ribs. Slowly, I push myself up in the bed and wince at the aching soreness between my thighs. I lift the heavy coverlet and see I am stark naked underneath.

“Goddess,” I mutter, pressing my palm to my forehead. “What the hell have I done? Tell me this isn’t real. No, no, no. Ror—”

I cut myself off as the memories slam into me like cold water. Rorik has cheated on me with Lindis. No, it is actually worse; they have both been playing me for years, and I am going to face them this morning, whether I feel ready or not. With a shaky exhale, I scan the chamber for my belongings. My red gown lies crumpled on the rushes, smallclothes nowhere in sight, shift dangling from the back of a carved chair. No sign of the man. I yank open a small coffer beside the bed and freeze. A thick purse of golden coins sits on top of my small leather pouch with a folded parchment tucked underneath.

I pick it up with trembling fingers. The handwriting is bold and sharp: ‘A perfect night with a perfect lady.’

“That bastard,” I whisper. He has mistaken me for a whore. Heat floods my face as humiliation mixes with a bitter sting of anger.

I sigh heavily and drag myself upright. A vivid flash from last night hits me: the tower balcony, the wind whipping my hair, my body tipping forward over the stone parapet. The masked stranger’s arms catching me just in time. That deep, rumbling voice. The way I kissed him first, reckless and desperate.

“Oh goddess, what was I thinking?” I mutter under my breath.

But I can’t remember his scent. Nothing. No wolf musk, no trace at all, and his face is a blur beyond the mask. Another memory surges as I step into the warm water in the copper basin: his mouth on my skin, the way my body arched and writhed beneath him, chasing pleasure like it could erase everything else. Another wave of arousal hits me, and I shake off the urge to reach down and stroke myself.

“I’m not supposed to feel like this,” I tell the steam-filled chamber. “Good thing I’ll never see that man again.”

~

By the time I ride up to the Crimson Moon pack, my stomach is in knots. I dismount in the inner bailey and step inside to find Rorik pacing the great hall like a caged beast.

“There she is,” Alan says quietly from the corner where he stands with Jeremy.

Lindis lounges on one of the carved benches, looking every bit the innocent victim, legs crossed neatly.

“Where have you been?” Rorik demands, his gaze raking over me from head to toe like he is checking for damage… or evidence.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Why the pretence of concern now? He’s made it crystal clear last night that he doesn’t give a damn.

“Good morning, my dear friend,” Lindis says sweetly, rising and stepping toward me. “You had us all so worried.”

The sheer audacity makes my blood boil. “Don’t come near me,” I snarl.

Alan and Jeremy exchange a quick, confused glance but stay silent.

“Anora, I’m talking to you.” Rorik’s voice sharpens. “Where did you go last night?”

“I don’t have time for you right now,” I mutter, brushing past him and heading for the stairs.

“She’s been acting strange since last night,” I hear Alan murmur behind me.

“Anora!” Rorik barks. “Anora, I’m talking to you!”

I don’t stop. I hurry up the stone stairs, but footsteps thunder behind me, and then Rorik’s familiar cedar scent fills the air, a scent that used to make me feel safe; now it just turns my stomach like sour bile. He bursts into the bedchamber right after me, slamming the heavy oak door so hard the frame rattles. He grabs my arm, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, and spins me around to face him. His eyes flash gold, wolf right at the surface, fury twisting his handsome features into something ugly.

“Why the fuck are you acting like this, Anora?” His voice starts low, almost pleading, but the softness cracks fast. “I know you’re upset, but you need to fucking understand—”

“Understand?” I rip my arm free. The motion is so violent that it stings where his grip has been. “You want me to understand that you’ve been lying to my face for years?”

Rorik exhales through his teeth, running a hand through his hair. “She’s my fated mate, Anora. The bond isn’t something you just switch off. What the hell am I supposed to do? Reject her? Destroy the pack over it?”

“You are supposed to leave me the fuck alone!” I scream, my voice breaking raw. Tears burn down my cheeks, but I don’t wipe them away; I let him see them. I shove both hands into his chest with all my strength, forcing him back a step. “You knew! You knew Lindis was your mate, and you still pursued me, still let me fall in love with you, still let me hand you my father’s pack on a silver fucking platter! You used me!”

“I didn’t want to hurt you!” he shouts back, stepping into my space again, crowding me against the wardrobe.

I let out a bitter, jagged laugh that surprises even me. “You didn’t want to hurt me? That’s rich. You’ve been hurting me every single day since the moment you started to court me. You made me believe I was enough. You defended me when the pack called me weak, wolfless, worthless, and the whole time you were laughing behind my back with her.”

Rorik’s jaw clenches so tight a muscle ticks in his cheek. “I protected you. I stood by you when no one else would. Don’t rewrite history because you’re pissed.”

“Protected me?” I jab a finger into his chest. “You deceived me. You took everything, my pack, my title, my trust, and now you stand there acting like I owe you gratitude? Fuck you, Rorik.”

I turn, yank my travelling chest from under the bed, and fling it open on the mattress with enough force to make the frame groan.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice drops dangerously low.

“What does it look like?” I snap over my shoulder, ripping gowns off pegs and throwing them into the chest haphazardly. “I’m leaving. And I’m taking you to the Council. I’ll drag every lie you’ve told into the open and take back what’s mine—every acre, every coin, every fucking thing I handed over to you because I loved you.”

To my surprise, Rorik barks out a harsh laugh that echoes off the stone walls. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me like I am a child throwing a tantrum. “I’m sorry, what?” The laughter dies, replaced by cold amusement. “You’re going to take me to the Council? Sweetheart, please. Don’t start a war you can’t win.”

I freeze, chest half-packed, and slowly turn to face him. “What did you just say to me?”

He steps closer, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “You forget something very important, Anora. I’m the Alpha of this pack now. Legally and permanently. Lindis is my true mate, and she’s carrying my heir. If you drag this to the Council, who do you think they’ll side with? The strong Alpha with a fated mate and a pup on the way… or a weak, wolfless, childless runt who can’t handle a pack?”

Pup on the way…

The word lands like a sledgehammer to my sternum. I actually stagger back, one hand flying to my mouth as if I can physically hold the nausea in. The room tilts. Lindis is pregnant. With his child. The image of them together last night flashes again, his body moving inside hers, her moans, and now it carries a whole new layer of cruelty.