Chapter 2 The Forbidden Mate

The silver moon hung low over the Draven woods, casting long, pale shadows through the trees.

Lucian moved through the dark without a sound. He had forbidden the guards from coming anywhere near this sanctuary, a secluded cottage hidden behind a thick wall of silver roses. It was the only place in the territory where he was not an Alpha burdened by a crown. He was simply a man in love.

He pushed the door open.

Mira turned at the sound. The candlelight caught the soft edges of her face, and her expression immediately relaxed. "You came."

Lucian crossed the room in three quick strides. He pulled her against his chest, careful of her heavily swollen belly, and rested his hand over their unborn child. He kissed her forehead, then her cheek, and finally her lips, pressing softly, as though trying to anchor her image in his memory before the world ripped her away.

Mira rested her forehead against his chest, feeling the frantic heat of his bond. "You look troubled. What happened?"

"I told them," Lucian whispered, his voice heavy. "They know about you. They know about the child."

Her breath hitched. "What did your father say?"

"He gave me an ultimatum," Lucian said grimly. "Choose Silverfang... or marry Evelina of Blackridge."

Mira’s chest tightened. She knew of Evelina, the widowed daughter of the Blackridge Luna. Her husband, the Beta's son, had fallen in war alongside their Alpha, leaving her with a young child. Marrying Evelina meant inheriting the full strength of Blackridge.

"They will force you," Mira whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"They already have," Lucian said. He cupped her face, looking straight into her eyes. "I love you, Mira. More than this throne. More than my bloodline. But an Omega cannot sit beside me, and my father will stop at nothing to secure Blackridge."

"What will happen to us?"

"I will protect you," Lucian vowed, placing his hand back over her stomach. "Both of you. I swear it."

Beneath his palm, a sharp nudge pressed outward. Lucian froze. The baby kicked. A rare, breathtaking smile broke across his face, lighting up the shadow in his eyes. "Our little one..."

For a few fleeting heartbeats, the throne, the politics, and the impending marriage faded into nothingness.

Then the silence cracked.

"Evelina arrives tomorrow evening," Lucian said quietly. "The union will be sealed at dusk."

Mira swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces. "And if you can't come back to me?"

Lucian lifted her chin. "Then come find me. Anywhere."

"I would cross the world for you," she whispered.

He kissed her one last time, a desperate, silent farewell to the only peace he would ever know.

And neither of them knew it would be the last peaceful night they would ever share.

The following evening, war drums thundered through the Draven gates.

Evelina stepped from the iron carriage clad in black and silver, holding her young daughter tightly against her side. The elders bowed; the people cheered. The political machinery of Draven had begun to turn.

Inside the ancestral hall, Lucian stood rigid at the altar. His skin burned with cold anger, but he forced his posture straight. Tonight was not about what he wanted, it was about keeping Mira alive in the shadows.

The high priest spoke the ancient vows. The pack elders watched like hawks. Evelina reached out, her hand cold against his.

"By the blood of the Moon," the priest declared, "the union is sealed."

A sudden wave of raw, unfamiliar power surged through Lucian’s chest as the political mark bound them. The hall erupted into thunderous applause.

"Long live Alpha Lucian! Long live Luna Evelina!"

Miles away, inside the dark cottage, Mira fell to her knees.

A agonizing tear ripped through her soul as the distant echo of the bond reached her wolf. She clutched her stomach, sobbing onto the cold wooden floor. "No... he mated her..."

Before the tear could dry, a violent contraction slammed through her abdomen.

Mira gasped, doubling over as a sharp, blinding agony tore through her core. Blood pooled onto her skirt.

The cottage door flew open. A servant took one look at the floor and screamed. "She's bleeding! Call the midwife, she’s in labor!"

Back in the great hall, the feast was in full swing. Nobles toasted the bloodlines; music echoed off the stone pillars.

Suddenly, the heavy double doors crashed open.

Lucian’s head snapped toward the entrance. His head Beta stood in the doorway, drenched in sweat, his face ghost-white. He didn't care about the protocol; he cut straight through the crowd until he reached the dais.

"Alpha," the Beta gasped, his voice trembling so hard the surrounding elders fell silent.

Lucian stepped forward, a sudden, suffocating dread settling in his stomach. "Speak."

The Beta leaned in, whispering the words that shattered the room.

"It’s Mira. The child is coming... and she's bleeding out."

The noise of the hall drowned into absolute silence. Lucian’s breath locked in his throat. He looked back at his father, at his new bride, and then out toward the dark windows where the storm raged.

The crown was on

his head, but his heart was dying in the woods.