Chapter 3 The Empty Vessel

(Peyton)

Walking into Blackpine's pack hall hurts in more ways than one.

My knee has swollen tight against my trousers, and every step feels like somebody's sawing at the bone with a butter knife.

I used to love this lobby. For years I ran the joint treaty talks in this building, and wolves stepped out of my way hoping the emissary would smile at them.

The girl at the front desk used to jump to her feet when I came in.

Today she glances up, sees who it is, and looks back down at her screen.

I get a nod. A very small one.

The elevator is worse.

Three warriors and a treaty clerk are already inside. All of us have argued terms over cold pizza at two in the morning.

Not one of them looks me in the eye. Four noses twitch, and four pairs of eyes drop to my belly.

"Not long now," the clerk says, to my stomach. "How's our little heir doing in there?"

"The heir's fine. I've been better, thanks for asking."

He chuckles like I told a joke.

"The whole pack's praying for a strong one," one of the warriors adds. "You just rest and let the pup grow. That's your only job now."

My only job.

They can smell Cormac's blood in the pup, and that's all they smell. The female wrapped around it is packaging.

Nobody in here remembers the emissary. They see a tired container carrying Blackpine's future. And a warning to every ambitious she-wolf about what happens when you fall into the Alpha's bed.

The doors open, and I limp out before I say something I'd enjoy too much.

Honeysuckle hits me halfway down the hall.

Cormac's office door is half open.

He's sitting on the edge of his desk. She's standing between his knees, playing with his collar.

She says something too soft for me to catch, and he tilts his head down to listen like nothing in the world matters more. His hand rests on her hip.

They look more married than we ever did.

Then he looks up and sees me, and his face turns to ice.

He crosses the room and takes the folder out of my hands. He doesn't thank me. His eyes run over my tired face and my limp, and he doesn't ask about those either.

"Wait here. Don't leave. We need to talk."

He glances back at her, and his voice softens.

"Leilani, I'll be right back. The Elders are waiting on these."

So, she has a name.

The door shuts behind him, and I'm alone with the wolf I like least in this territory. He's a close second.

My knee is throbbing all the way up to my hip now. I lean back against the wall and let it take some of my weight.

Leilani looks me over slowly. Swollen ankles, plain clothes, big belly.

Then she starts chatting, like we're girlfriends at a café.

"I've always been terrified of getting pregnant," she says, light as air. "I'm so scared it would ruin my figure. Did pregnancy do that to you?"

It's meant to sting. Funny thing is, it calms me right down.

She's looking straight at me and she doesn't see a rival. She doesn't see the emissary or the brain. She sees the fat, tired mistake her Alpha wants to forget.

Good. Wolves who underestimate me have always been my favorite kind.

"I had a wolf sickness a few years back," I say evenly. "The suppressants changed my body and scent. The pup didn't."

"Oh, that's good to know." Her smile is pure sugar, and her eyes are mean. "Because my healer just called. I'm pregnant too."

The room goes quiet.

I breathe in, hunting for the sour edge of a lie. All I get is honeysuckle. She's soaked the whole office in it.

Either way, it doesn't hurt the way she wants it to. It barely lands.

My blank face clearly annoys her.

"Cormac doesn't know yet," she says, checking her nails. "I'll tell him once your divorce is final. I don't need a pup to hold on to a male. And honestly, you're not worth the trouble."

She picks up her handbag and smooths her dress.

"Anyway, I have a spa appointment. We have a date tonight, and I need to look perfect."

"Enjoy," I say sweetly. "Try the mud. It suits you."

Her smile slips for half a second. Then she sways out the door and pulls it shut behind her.

Getting to his desk takes a while. This knee needs a healer soon.

My head has never been clearer though.

She wanted that news to crush me. All it did was turn the last key in the lock.

I take the divorce papers out of my tote, pick up his fancy pen for the second time today, and sign.

Peyton Knox.

The female who cried over this Alpha doesn't live here anymore. The emissary Ian called is wide awake, and she has a treaty to win.

The papers go in his top drawer, where he keeps his private things.

Let him find them. Let him choke on them.

I push the drawer shut and lower myself into his big leather chair to wait.

My knee has earned the rest.