Kieran carried me back to my chambers, his steps slow and deliberate, as though I were made of glass. I could feel the warmth of his chest, the steady drum of his heartbeat beneath my ear. It should have comforted me, but instead it left me aching.
When he pushed the door open and laid me gently upon the bed, his hand lingered at my side. His voice softened, careful, almost reverent.
"Lay down, Elara. Don't move too much. Don't… stress yourself."
I let out a dry laugh, the sound foreign even to my ears. "You don't even know if I'll miscarry again, Kieran. Shouldn't you save your concern for Selene?"
His jaw tightened, but he didn't rise to my barb. Instead, his hand brushed against my stomach. "This time will be different."
The words should have been comforting. Instead, they pierced me. Why now? Why did he only remember I was his Luna when there was a child inside me?
Lumi, my wolf, stirred faintly in the back of my mind, her voice low and tired. Because the bond is waking him, Elara. He can't fight it forever.
But where was that bond when he chose her? I whispered back.
Lumi didn't answer. She never did when my heart cracked open like this.
The news spread through the pack like wildfire.
By morning, whispers carried my name again, but not with pity. Not with scorn. This time, they were weighted with awe.
"Luna is with child."
"Perhaps the Goddess has not forsaken her."
"She is strong—stronger than we thought."
The same lips that had called me barren now spoke blessings into the air. The same eyes that had watched me stumble with cruel delight now bowed in respect when I passed.
I should have felt triumphant. Instead, I felt hollow. Why is it now that they kneel? Why not when I bled, when I fought to hold my head high while they tore me apart?
My wolf growled softly, her pride swelling in ways I could not match. Respect is earned through trials, Elara. They saw you fall and rise again. Now they cannot deny you.
But I did not feel risen. I felt fragile, like a cracked vase they had suddenly decided was priceless.
And then there was Kieran.
He began appearing at my side more often—his hand steadying my elbow, his voice soft when he asked if I'd eaten, if I'd rested. The warmth of his touch made the bond flare, sharp and intoxicating.
Yet bitterness whispered at the edges of my heart. Is it only because of the heir? Or because he remembers I am his mate?
Each time his eyes lingered on me, I wanted to believe it was the latter. But I had been burned by hope before.
Selene, of course, was a vision of composure.
She smiled at me sweetly, always in sight of others. She linked her arm with mine at dinners, her voice dripping with kindness.
"Elara, you mustn't overexert yourself," she said one evening, brushing invisible lint from my sleeve as though we were sisters. "The pack depends on you and the child now."
Her eyes glimmered, but her smile never faltered.
I forced a smile of my own. "How thoughtful of you, Selene."
"Oh, it's nothing." She squeezed my hand gently, her voice just loud enough for Kieran to hear across the table.
The pack adored her more for it—her false concern, her carefully crafted compassion. Only I saw the jealousy simmering beneath her skin, the faint twitch of her jaw when Kieran's gaze lingered too long on me.
She wanted his attention, his devotion. But now, for the first time, it was tilting back toward me.
And she hated it.
I lay in bed that night, my hand resting over the faint swell of my stomach. The fire crackled softly, shadows dancing across the walls.
Kieran sat at the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on the flames. "You should sleep," he murmured.
"I can't," I whispered. My voice trembled before I could hide it. "It feels… strange. To be treated differently. To be respected. To be seen."
His eyes flicked to mine. There was guilt there, raw and unguarded. "They should never have doubted you."
"But you did." The words slipped out before I could catch them.
He flinched, but didn't deny it. Instead, his hand found mine, tentative, almost pleading. "Let me make it right, Elara. For you. For our heir."
My throat tightened. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to lean into his warmth, let it mend the broken pieces inside me. But another voice whispered, sharp and cold. Too late.
Still, I let him hold my hand.
Selene's POV
The candlelight painted her reflection gold, but Selene saw only red in the mirror.
She dismissed the smile she had worn all day, lips curving into a sneer. Her maid stood silently behind her, head bowed, too afraid to meet her gaze.
"She walks through the halls as though she has already won," Selene hissed. Her hands clenched against the vanity. "They bow to her now. They whisper blessings. Even he looks at her differently."
Her maid swallowed. "But, my lady, surely the Alpha's—"
"Enough." Selene spun, her eyes flashing. "If she births his heir, I am finished. Everything I've built crumbles."
Her hand rested over her own stomach, empty though she had claimed otherwise. Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.
"She must fall. And if she won't do it herself, we will help her."
The maid trembled. "How, my lady?"
Selene's smile returned, sharp as a blade. "We'll frame her. She will poison me, they'll say. The Luna turned wicked with jealousy."
The maid gasped. "But the physician—he declared her with child."
Selene leaned close, her whisper venomous. "Then the physician will change his words. He will say Elara begged him to lie, to keep her power. That this pregnancy was a fabrication all along."
The maid hesitated. "And if he refuses?"
Selene's eyes gleamed, cold and cruel. "He won't refuse. He values his life too much."
Her smile widened, perfect and poisonous. "Elara may think she has risen, but I will drag her back into the dirt where she belongs."
The shadows in the chamber seemed to shiver at her words, carrying her vow into the night..