Ayla Korr

Two years.

It was impressive how two words could sound like a sentence when spoken in front of fifteen people.

“Two years, Luna Ayla.”

Councilor Maelor rested both hands on the long table.

I kept mine hidden in my lap.

“Two years of marriage, several attempts, monitoring by healers, and no sign of an heir.”

I knew.

Believe me, I knew.

I didn’t need him to list every month my blood had come. Every morning I had woken up and realized that, once again, my body had failed.

Even so, I straightened my shoulders.

“Yes, Councilor.”

My voice came out steady.

A small victory.

Beside me, Darian didn’t move.

He was sitting in the chair reserved for the Alpha, dressed in black, one hand resting on the arm of the carved wooden chair. It didn’t even seem as though that meeting concerned our marriage.

My body.

My inability.

In the first year, it had been different.

The first time the Council called me in to talk about the absence of a pregnancy, Darian interrupted before they could even finish.

She’s twenty-two. We have time.

Later, in the hallway, he placed a hand on my back and told me not to worry.

I remember returning to the bedroom that night believing that maybe there was some hope for us.

At the second meeting, he still answered for me.

At the third, he stayed silent.

After that, he even stopped looking at me.

“When Houses Korr and Varen agreed to this union,” Maelor continued, “the conditions were very clear.”

My stomach tightened.

That was always where we ended up.

The debt.

“We all know what happened during the war.”

I didn’t look at my father.

Not immediately.

“House Varen made decisions that cost the Korr men, lands, and resources. The restitution demanded could have driven your family to ruin.”

Now I looked.

Garrick Varen was three seats to my left.

My father didn’t look embarrassed by what the councilor was saying.

He looked irritated with me.

As if I had commanded troops during the war.

As if I had signed treaties.

As if the debt had been created by my hands.

“Instead,” Maelor went on, “Alpha Darian accepted a union between the houses. An extremely generous opportunity, considering the circumstances.”

Generous.

I almost laughed.

Maybe my wolf found it funny too, because I felt a faint stirring inside me.

So faint that it disappeared almost immediately.

I focused on her.

Stay with me.

It was ridiculous.

My own wolf had to be convinced not to hide.

“And one of the fundamental points of that agreement was the continuation of the bloodline,” Maelor concluded.

This time, Darian spoke.

“We are all aware of the conditions.”

His voice was low.

Cold.

The councilor inclined his head.

“Then you understand our concern.”

“I do.”

That was all.

No defense.

No hand on my back.

I tightened my fingers.

It was fine.

I just had to succeed.

That was it.

A child.

A single child.

Then the debt would finally be paid. The Council would stop looking at me like a walking failure. My father would stop watching me as if he regretted having a daughter.

Maybe Darian would too...

I stopped the thought before I could finish it.

“Has she been examined?” another councilor asked.

My face grew hot.

“Three times,” Darian answered.

He knew the numbers.

Of course he did.

“And?”

“The healers found no obvious physical reason.”

A man at the end of the table made a low sound.

“Obvious.”

I knew that tone.

Before he even continued, I knew what was coming.

“We’re talking about a woman whose wolf can barely complete a transformation.”

My throat closed.

“My wolf can transform,” I replied.

Several eyes turned toward me.

I should have stayed quiet.

My father made that clear with his expression.

But the councilor merely raised an eyebrow.

“For how long?”

I didn’t answer.

He already knew.

They all knew.

My wolf was small. Thin. Too weak to keep up with the others during a run and useless in a fight.

I had spent my entire childhood hearing that.

Maybe my body really was the same.

Maybe everything in me had been born missing something.

“It would not be absurd to consider that a wolf of that nature might have difficulty carrying an Alpha pup,” he said.

I looked at Darian.

It was automatic.

An idiotic part of me still hoped.

Say something.

He kept looking at the table.

Then Maelor turned to him.

“Were you also examined, Alpha?”

Darian finally lifted his eyes.

There was the slightest change in his face.

“There is no history of infertility among Korr men.”

“Even so—”

“There is no reason to believe the problem lies with me.”

The silence that followed was worse than any laughter.

My chest burned.

Not because I disagreed.

Maybe he was right.

He probably was.

I just wished he hadn’t said it that way.

As if everyone in that room didn’t already know exactly whose fault it was.

“Ayla.”

My father.

I turned my head.

“Do you understand the seriousness of the situation?”

For a second, I forgot I was twenty-four years old.

I was once again a little girl too small for her own wolf, standing in front of him after failing at training.

“I understand.”

“I hope so. Your family has already paid too high a price for mistakes.”

Your family.

Funny.

When there was a debt, I was Varen.

When I needed to obey Darian, I was Korr.

There never seemed to be a moment when I was simply Ayla.

My gaze slid across the table until it found Caelan.

My brother was leaning back in his chair, his jaw tense.

When our eyes met, he looked away first.

That hurt more than it should have.

“Perhaps we should discuss alternatives,” someone said.

My heart sped up.

“Alternatives?”

Darian spoke before I could.

The councilor opened his mouth, but the door to the room opened.

Everyone looked.

Vesper Hale walked in.

I recognized that golden hair before she even lifted her face.

I also knew the light-blue dress, the delicate posture, and that way she had of looking as though she needed to apologize simply for breathing.

Vesper was Lord Hale’s daughter, one of the oldest men on the Council.

And before my father handed over a daughter as payment for a debt, everyone knew who was supposed to have taken my place at Darian’s side.

Vesper.

They had grown up together.

They had attended the same celebrations.

Danced at the same parties.

And although no one had ever officially told me what had existed between the two of them, I wasn’t stupid.

She remained far too close.

Darian allowed it.

“Forgive the interruption,” Vesper said.

Lord Hale frowned.

“We are in a meeting.”

“I know, Father.”

There was something wrong with her.

She was pale.

Her hands were trembling.

Darian shifted slightly in his chair.

“Vesper?”

The concern in his voice was small.

Even so, I recognized it.

Because once, I had spent months searching for that same tone when he spoke to me.

Vesper looked at him.

Not once at me.

“I didn’t want to tell you this way.”

My stomach dropped.

Darian frowned.

“Tell me what?”

She took a deep breath.

Then slowly brought one hand to her belly.

And smiled.

“I’m pregnant.”