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(Charlie)
My breath catches, trapped somewhere between my lungs and my throat, as I stare at the two faint, pink lines.
My entire world narrows to that tiny plastic window and what it means.
Positive.
I’m pregnant.
A small, hysterical sound, half-laugh, half-sob, escapes me. My hand flies to my mouth to smother it.
I can't be this loud. Not here. Not in the pack hospital where the walls have ears and every ear is tuned for gossip.
After three years of an empty womb, after the first time… After the blood and the hollow, aching emptiness that followed.
I violently shove the memory down. I can't. I won't.
This time is different. It must be.
My other hand slides instinctively over my flat stomach. A tiny, fragile spark of hope ignites inside me, so fierce it’s almost painful.
This is it. This is what I need. This is what we need.
Kaleb’s been acting different lately, but this will fix us.
I clutch the test to my chest, my knuckles white. The pack doctor's clinical confirmation still rings in my ears, but seeing it for myself, on this cheap stick I bought in the human town, makes it real.
I splash cold water on my face, willing the flush from my cheeks.
Get it together, Charlie.
I’m supposed to be the Luna of the Bloodmoon Pack. I’m supposed to be strong.
But I’ve been living on a knife’s edge for three years, and my footing is slipping.
I gave up my birthright to be with Kaleb. The Alpha title that should have been mine. I walked away from my father's pack, from Rohan who looked at me like I was the only star in his sky, all for a mate bond that flared so bright it nearly blinded me.
One night. That’s all it took. One night where the Moon Goddess slammed our souls together, and I, hopelessly, stupidly, got pregnant.
I gave up everything to be with Kaleb, to be his Luna. And in return?
I got a husband still in love with another woman.
Madilyn.
The ghost that haunts our pack house. The name that’s never spoken but always felt. She left the day she found out about me and the baby.
My heart will never stop aching when I think about my first pregnancy.
After I lost our child, Kaleb spiraled. He was tormented, and his pack blamed me.
For the first year, no one would even call me Luna. It was always 'Charlie.'
Spat, like a curse.
'Charlie wants this.' 'Charlie is in the Alpha's house.' They saw me as the usurper, the she-wolf who used a mate bond and a pregnancy to force their beloved Madilyn away.
So I made myself small. I took the quiet cruelty, the glares, the whispers. I smiled until my face ached. I worked until my hands bled.
And slowly, so painfully slowly, some of the ice began to thaw. They started to accept me. Kaleb and I finally started to find a balance.
Until a few weeks ago, when Kaleb started turning into a stranger.
He’s distant. Cold. He’s gone most nights, the scent of pine and wind clinging to him when he gets back.
Never my scent. He’d have to touch me for that to happen.
"I’m searching for Ezra," he says, his voice flat when I ask why he’s never home.
His Beta has been AWOL for weeks, and the excuse tastes like ash in my mouth. Even his lies are getting lazy.
But this changes everything. He can’t pull away from this. From our child.
My wolf, so quiet and beaten down these last few years, lifts her head. A small, protective growl rumbles in my chest. This time, I’ll protect this baby with everything I am.
I shove the bathroom door open and stride into the sterile hallway, my head held high. Hope is a fragile armor, but it’s better than nothing.
I push through the clinic's front doors, and the cool afternoon air hits my face.
I'm so focused on getting home, on planning the exact way I’ll tell Kaleb, that I almost collide with the woman blocking my path.
My wolf bristles before my eyes even focus.
A scent hits me. Wild roses and something sharp, like ozone before a storm.
She’s beautiful.
Not just pretty. She’s beautiful in the way a winter storm is beautiful. All lethal, sharp edges and breathtaking power. Her hair is the color of a raven’s wing, and her eyes are a startling, electric blue.
My instincts scream. Every hair on my body stands on end.
I know exactly who this is. I’ve never seen her face, but I know her. My wolf claws at the inside of my chest, desperate to get out, to tear this threat apart.
"So, you're Charlie," she says, her voice a low, silky purr. She looks me up and down, a slow, insulting appraisal. Her lip curls in a small, dismissive smile.
"It's Luna to you," I snap, the words sounding weak even to my own ears.
She laughs. A light, airy sound that makes my skin crawl. "Is it? I don't think Kaleb agrees."
My blood runs cold. "What do you want?"
"Oh, I'm just here to see an old friend." Her smile widens, all teeth. "I'm Madilyn, by the way. But I'm sure you already knew that."
She steps closer, invading my space. I stand my ground, refusing to be intimidated, even as my heart tries to escape my chest.
"You should probably know, Kaleb and I..." she continues, tilting her head as if sharing a fun secret. "We've rekindled our old love. It’s funny, isn't it? How fate works. He just couldn't stay away."
"You're lying," I whisper, but the words have no conviction.
His distance. The late nights. The cold shoulder in our bed. It all clicks into place with horrifying clarity.
"Am I?" Madilyn's eyes glitter with malicious triumph. "Whatever he told you has been keeping him away from home, the truth is that he's been with me."
"He's my mate." The words tear from my throat, raw and desperate.
"He is," she agrees, the very picture of sympathy. "And he feels just awful about it. But the heart wants what it wants. Don't believe me? Fine."
She pushes back the sleeve of her silk blouse, revealing the pale skin of her forearm. At first, I see nothing. Then, she flexes, and ink, no, not ink, shadows writhe just beneath her skin.
I flinch at the way it’s moving. Like a living thing trapped in her flesh, a swirling, coiling knot of darkness.
It’s monstrous. It’s wrong.
"If you don't believe me," Madilyn says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Go check your husband. He has one to match."
I rear back, horror and disgust coiling in my gut. "Bullshit. Kaleb would never wear a mark like that. That thing is evil."
Madilyn's laughter cuts right through my fragile confidence. She pulls her sleeve down, hiding the abomination.
"Oh, sweetheart," she croons, leaning in so close I can smell the roses on her skin. She taps my cheek, a gesture that's almost a slap. My wolf shrieks, but I'm frozen.
"Why don't you go home and see for yourself?"
(Charlie)Four walls. Cream wallpaper with a subtle damask pattern. Heavy velvet curtains drawn against the afternoon sun.This room used to be my sanctuary. Now, it feels like a cage.I shift against the mountain of pillows, wincing as a dull ache radiates through my lower back.It’s been three days since the contractions started. Three days since Elara pumped my veins full of jagged-root and ordered me not to move.I pick up the tablet I hid under my duvet and my fingers fly across the screen, pulling up the pack’s internal server.I need to see the border logs. I need to know if there’s been any word on my father. I need to know if the Ironclaw are still sitting on our southern line, waiting for us to blink.Access Denied.I frown, tapping the screen again.User Authorization Revoked.My heart gives a hard, angry thud. I try the email server. Locked. I try the security feed. Locked."What the hell?" I whisper, staring at the grayed-out screen.I am the Acting Alpha. I have the high
(Kaleb)The grandfather clock in the hallway chimes two a.m. The sound vibrates through the floorboards of the Alpha study, deep and mournful.I’m sitting at my desk, a single lamp casting a pool of yellow light onto the leather surface. The house is silent. Madilyn is upstairs, comatose and pregnant, the "fragile Luna" resting after her ordeal.For the first time in more than six months, the static in my head is gone.There is no hum. No vague, sweet scent of roses clouding my judgment. No compulsion to go upstairs and hold her hand. There is only silence.I’m not resting. I’m hunting.In front of me sits a small, velvet-bound journal and a leather pouch. I lifted them from her vanity while the nurses were changing shifts.I open the pouch first and tip the contents into my palm.Purple and gray leaves that crumble to dust. I bring them to my nose. The scent is faint, musky and sweet.Dreamshade.I recognize it from the restricted texts in the Alpha library. It’s a mild hallucinogen
(Charlie)The jeep tires crunch on the gravel of the Silverwood driveway, a sound that usually signals safety. Today, it feels like the closing of a cell door.Rohan is out before the engine cuts, circling the vehicle to pull me into his arms. He holds me like I’m made of glass, his grip tight and desperate."I’ve got you," he murmurs into my hair, carrying me up the stairs. "You’re safe now. I promise."I rest my head against his chest, but I don’t feel safe.I feel covered in grime and the dried blood of the man I’m still in love with.My knees are still shaking from the adrenaline crash, and my mind is a broken record replaying Kaleb’s face on that road.I just wanted to make sure you were safe."Get Elara!" Rohan bellows as we burst through the front door, his voice shaking the chandelier. "Now!"He carries me straight toward the stairs, bypassing the main hall."I’m taking you to your room. We’ll lock it down. No one gets in or out.""No," I croak, my throat raw. "Take me to Elar
(Kaleb)The needle pierces my skin, pulling the edges of the rogue’s slash together.I don't flinch. The pain is grounding. It’s a sharp, hot reminder that I am alive, even if I don't particularly want to be.It distracts me from the image burned into my retinas. Charlie, kneeling in the dirt, covered in blood that belongs to me."You should take the painkiller, Alpha," the pack doctor, Aris, murmurs. His hands move deftly over my ribs. "This wound is deep. It cut right through the... ink.""No painkillers," I grunt, staring at the ceiling tiles of the trauma room. "I need a clear head."I need to remember.I close my eyes and I’m back on that forest road. The smell of burning rubber. The coppery tang of blood. The way Charlie looked at me, confusion warring with relief.Why did you save me?Her question haunts me. She thinks I hate her. She doesn't know that leaving her on that road to follow the extraction team back here felt like tearing my own heart out."Alpha?"I open my eyes.
(Charlie)The words hang in the smoke-filled air, heavy and suffocating.For a second, I can’t process them. My heart is still racing from the attack, my blood singing with the adrenaline of survival.But Kaleb is crumbling before my eyes.The invincible Alpha who just tore through a dozen rogues like they were paper dolls is gone. In his place is a man haunted by a ghost I can’t see.He sways, his knees buckling."Kaleb!"I lunge forward, catching him just before he hits the asphalt.His weight is immense, a dead, heavy burden, but I refuse to let him fall. We collapse together onto the road, the asphalt biting into my knees.My hands are instantly coated in warm, sticky blood."You're hurt," I gasp, my hands hovering over the gash on his ribs. It’s horrifyingly deep."I have to go," he wheezes, trying to push himself up. His skin is gray, clammy with shock. "She’s critical. I have to...""You aren't going anywhere," I snap, pressing my hand against the wound to staunch the flow of b
(Charlie)Alpha Ryker is exactly as Rohan described. A savage in an expensive suit.He sits across the metal table in the negotiation tent, picking his teeth with a splinter of wood.His eyes, yellow and predatory, track my every movement. He doesn't look at my face. He looks at my neck, then my stomach."So," he grunts, spitting the splinter onto the floor. "The Silverwood Pack sends a breeding sow to do an Alpha's job."My guard, a stoic wolf named Torin, growls low in his throat. I raise a hand to silence him."And the Ironclaw Pack sends a leader who is apparently threatened by a pregnant woman," I reply, my voice cool and steady.I lean forward, placing my hands on the table. "Let's cut the posturing, Ryker. You're testing our borders because you think we're weak. We aren't."I slide a document across the table."This is a renewed trade agreement. Favorable terms for your southern supply lines. In exchange, you pull your raiding party back five miles. Today."Ryker looks at the p







