CHAPTER 4: THE CELEBRATION

Dr. Hana returned two hours after midnight.

Her linen apron was clean, but her hands were shaking as she set a tray of bitter-root tea and fresh bandages on the bedside table. She kept her eyes fixed on the stone floor as she began cleaning the dried crimson from my legs.

"She wasn't in labor," Hana whispered, her voice barely louder than the rain tapping against the glass. "It was false distress. Her vitals were completely stable by the time I arrived."

I lay on the narrow iron bed, staring blankly at the iron nails in the rafter above me.

"And Kael?"

"He stayed by her bedside the entire time." Hana's fingers paused over a dark bruise on my hip. "He held her hand through the night. By dawn — the elders declared that Lady Vera's scare was brought on by the shock of your altercation. They're holding a thanksgiving feast in the upper courtyard right now, to celebrate the safety of Ethan's twins."

From outside the high arched window, the muffled sound of cheering drifted down from the keep.

Horns blew. Drums beat a steady, triumphant rhythm.

The pack was drinking to the survival of the Alpha bloodline while the blood of Kael's true firstborn dried on the rags in Hana's washbasin.

"They think I attacked her," I said. It wasn't a question.

Hana swallowed hard, unable to look me in the eye. "Vera told the council you tried to push her down the stairs out of envy. Kael — Kael didn't refute it. He told the elders you were emotionally unstable from years of childlessness."

A quiet, terrible calm settled over my chest.

The agonizing heat of grief that had burned through me all night cooled, hardening into something smooth, dense, and indestructible.

"I need my surgical consent and release forms," I said, sitting up slowly.

Hana blinked, startled. "Elira, you shouldn't be moving. The hemorrhage was severe —"

"Give me the paper, Hana."

Reluctantly, the physician retrieved a sheet of thick parchment and an inkwell from her desk.

I took the quill. My hand didn't shake. I signed my name at the bottom — *Elira Voss* — officially authorizing my medical release, waiving any claim against the pack infirmary, and securing my legal right to leave.

I stood. My knees wobbled, a wave of dizziness making the stone floor tilt beneath my feet, but I gripped the edge of the examination table until my vision cleared.

"Where are you going?" Hana asked, her voice tight with alarm as I pulled my cloak around my shoulders, covering the torn hem of my dress.

"To pack my things."

I walked out of the infirmary into the gray morning mist.

The estate grounds were bustling with servants hanging floral garlands and banners for the feast.

No one looked at me. When I passed two pack warriors guarding the armory, they turned their backs, deliberately cutting off their conversation as I walked by.

I was a ghost. A disgraced, barren omega who had dared to strike the Alpha's protected widow.

I reached the master suite on the third floor of the main keep.

The heavy mahogany doors were unlocked. Inside, the room was empty, but the bed had been slept in — on only one side.

On the bedside table sat the folded, unread letter from Dr. Hana I had dropped on the floor the night before, now crushed beneath a heavy silver wine goblet.

I didn't open my wardrobe. I didn't take the jewelry Kael had bought me over three years of marriage.

I walked to the small wooden chest beneath the window and pulled out a simple leather traveling pack. Inside, I placed three things: a sturdy pair of riding boots, a cloak lined with fur, and the silver dagger my mother had left me before she died — the only piece of my true heritage I possessed.

The door swung open behind me.

Kael stood in the doorway. He'd changed into his formal Alpha tunic, embroidered with silver thread along the collar.

He looked exhausted, the dark circles beneath his eyes contrasting sharply with his broad frame.

He stopped when he saw the traveling pack on the bed.

"Where do you think you're going?" Kael demanded, his brow furrowing in immediate annoyance.

"Away," I said, pulling the leather straps tight over the brass buckles.

Kael let out a heavy, frustrated sigh and closed the door behind him. "Elira, stop this dramatic nonsense. I know you're upset about last night —"

"Upset?" I turned to face him, my voice flat, devoid of any tremor.

"I spoke to the elders," Kael said, stepping closer, his tone adopting the patronizing patience a man uses with an irrational child. "Because of Vera's condition, they wanted to place you in the lower dungeons for what you did on the stairs. I told them no. I protected you, Elira. You'll remain here, in your quarters, until the council's anger cools."

"You protected me?"

I looked at him — really looked at him. At the man who had let Vera steal my title, who had used his Alpha command to silence my pain while I bled on the stone, who had spent the night holding another woman's hand while his own child died in the dark.

"Yes, I protected you!" Kael's voice rose, his temper flaring. "Vera could have lost Ethan's children because of your jealousy! You're lucky I'm standing here talking to you instead of locking you in a cell! Do you have any idea the pressure I'm under? I have a pack to rule, a border to secure, and a widowed sister-in-law to protect!"

"And what about your child, Kael?" I asked softly.

Kael froze, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "What?"

I reached onto the bedside table, picked up the crushed physician's report from beneath his wine goblet, and tossed it at his feet.

"Read it," I said.

Kael looked down at the parchment, his jaw tightening. He picked it up, unfolding the paper with obvious reluctance.

As his eyes scanned Dr. Hana's neat script — the official diagnosis, the four-week timeline, the confirmation of a pregnancy destroyed by severe physical trauma — the color slowly drained from his face.

"This..." Kael's voice cracked. He looked up at me, his storm-grey eyes wide with sudden, sickening horror. "This says — you were —"

"I was pregnant," I said, stepping past him toward the door. "When Vera pushed me down the stairs. When you yelled at me. When you left me bleeding in the corridor so you could carry her to bed."

Kael dropped the paper, his hands trembling violently as he reached out to grab my arm. "Elira — no. No, this can't — why didn't you tell me?"

I pulled my arm back before his fingers could brush my skin. The look in my eyes made him freeze in his tracks.

"I tried," I whispered, my voice cutting through the quiet room like a razor. "You didn't care to listen."

I picked up my traveling pack, threw it over my shoulder, and walked out of the room, leaving Kael standing alone as the parchment fluttered to the floor between his boots — the drums outside still beating for a child that was never his.