Pregnant

Brynn Hollis' POV

I leaned against the cold tile wall of the gas station bathroom and stared at the pregnancy test in my trembling hands. Two pink lines screamed at me like a neon sign. They meant only one thing.

I was pregnant.

My breath came out in a shaky laugh that echoed off the grimy walls. I clamped a hand over my mouth, but the sound kept spilling through my fingers—half sob, half hysterical joy.

Three years. Three years of marriage to Alpha Dax Thorne. Three years of cold shoulders and empty bedrooms and him looking through me like I was made of glass. Three years of praying to the Moon Goddess for a sign, a purpose, a reason he'd been saddled with a rogue orphan nobody else wanted.

And now this.

A baby. Our baby. The Alpha heir of the Silver Creek pack.

I pressed the test to my chest like it might disappear. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought they might crack.

He has to love me now.

The thought arrived before I could stop it, and shame curdled in my stomach. I didn't want his love to be transactional. But Goddess, I'd take it any way I could get it. I'd been taking scraps for thirty-six months. Maybe this was my feast.

I shoved the test into my jacket pocket, zipped it closed, and pushed out of the bathroom. The evening air hit my face—crisp, October, smelling of fallen leaves and woodsmoke from the pack houses beyond the treeline. Silver Creek stretched out below the gas station hill, all warm lights and winding roads.

Home. If you could call it that.

My old Honda sat in the parking lot, engine still ticking. I'd driven twenty minutes to the next town over because I couldn't risk anyone in the pack seeing me buy the test. I couldn't stand the pity in the pharmacy clerk's eyes. Oh, the Alpha's pathetic little mate, still trying.

But I wasn't pathetic anymore. I was now a mother.

I got in the car and gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles went white. My reflection stared back from the rearview mirror—dark circles under my eyes, hair pulled into a messy knot, cheeks hollow from the weight I'd lost worrying. I looked like a ghost.

"Okay, Brynn," I then whispered to myself. "You're going to drive home. You're going to find Dax. And you're going to tell him."

Simple.

However, nothing with Dax Thorne had ever been simple.

I started the engine and pulled onto the main road, my mind racing faster than the car. Would he smile? He'd never smiled at me. Not once. Would he pull me into his arms? He'd touched me exactly twice in three years—once to pull me out of the way of a falling branch, once on our wedding night, which we both pretended hadn't happened the next morning.

Fated mates, I thought bitterly. The universe's cruelest joke. We were supposed to be each other's perfect match. But the moment Dax had seen me—a rogue with no pack, no family, no status—he'd looked at me like I'd ruined his life.

And still, stupidly, desperately, I'd loved him.

I'd cooked his favorite meals and left them outside his office door. I'd learned the names of every pack member, remembered their birthdays, and mended their clothes. I'd tried to be the Luna he never wanted. And every night, I'd crawled into my empty bed and stared at the ceiling and wondered what I'd done wrong.

But this. This changed everything.

A baby meant a future. A legacy. An heir. Dax cared about power more than anything—I'd learned that much. And the offspring of fated mates? They were stronger. Faster. Better. Every Alpha in the region would salivate over our child.

Maybe that's all I'll ever be to him, I thought. The vessel.

The ache in my chest said I'd take that too.

I turned onto pack lands, past the border markers carved with silver wolf sigils. The guards nodded at my car—polite, distant, the same way you'd acknowledge a piece of furniture that happened to move. I was the Alpha's wife in name only, and everyone knew it.

The pack house loomed ahead, three stories of stone and timber, warm light spilling from every window. Cars lined the driveway. More cars than usual. I could hear music from inside—a thumping bass, laughter, the clink of glasses.

A party. Unbelievable.

My stomach dropped. Dax hadn't told me about a party. He never told me anything anyway. But that was fine. I'd find him, pull him aside, and show him the test. The noise and crowd would work in my favor—he'd have to be civil in front of his guests.

I parked haphazardly, nearly clipping a black SUV. My hands were shaking too hard for precision. I patted my pocket. The test was still there, warm against my thigh.

You can do this, Brynn. I told myself before taking a deep breath.

---

I walked up the stone steps, past the massive oak doors someone had left propped open. The foyer was packed with wolves from allied packs—I recognized faces from the last territory summit. Everyone had a drink in hand. Everyone was laughing.

And there, at the center of it all, stood Dax.

My breath caught the way. It always did when I saw him. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair falling across his forehead. He was wearing a gray Henley with the sleeves pushed up, exposing the corded muscle of his forearms. His jaw was sharp enough to cut glass.

He was laughing at something someone said.

And then I saw who was beside him.

Sera Voss.

Her hand was on his arm. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder. She was wearing a red dress that probably cost more than my car, and she was looking up at him like he was the sun.

His ex-girlfriend. The one his family had wanted him to marry before fate threw me into the mix. The one with the powerful bloodline and the perfect smile and the body that made men walk into walls.

I froze in the doorway.

Someone jostled me from behind. "Excuse me—oh, hey, Luna." The wolf's eyes flickered with something like pity before he disappeared into the crowd.

Luna. What a joke.

I should have left. I should have turned around, gotten back in my car, and driven until I hit the ocean. But my feet carried me forward, because I was stupid and hopeful and desperate for him to see me the way he was looking at her.

Just once.

"Dax," I said.

He didn't hear me. Sera whispered something in his ear, and he threw his head back and laughed. A real laugh. The kind I'd never heard from him.

"Dax," I said again, louder.

This time, he turned. His eyes found mine, and for half a second, I saw something flicker there. Annoyance. Dismissal. The same look he gave a fly buzzing around his dinner.

"Brynn." Flat. Cold. "What are you doing here?"

I opened my mouth. My hand went to my pocket. The test was right there. I was going to tell him. I was going to change everything.

But Sera turned too, and her smile was a blade. "Oh, look. The little rogue came to play."

The wolves around them laughed.

And Dax didn't tell them to stop.

My fingers curled around the pregnancy test in my pocket. And for the first time in three years, I felt something other than love.

I felt my heart start to close.