I didn't go home right away.
I sat in the hospital parking garage in my beat-up Corolla until the rain stopped and the sky turned the color of old dishwater, twisting the black-diamond ring around my finger like I could unscrew it and make the last hour disappear.
Ten million dollars.
Grandma breathing on her own by morning.
A werewolf's baby in my belly.
The word werewolf still felt like it belonged in a movie, not in my mouth.
Eventually I drove home on autopilot. The apartment was quiet. Lila was still on the graveyard shift. I dropped my keys in the bowl, kicked off my shoes, and stood in the middle of the living room feeling like a stranger wearing my own skin.
At 6:47 a.m. the front door flew open.
Lila froze when she saw me, mascara smudged, still in yesterday's clothes, one hand unconsciously curved over my stomach.
"Jesus, Rory, you look like death." She dropped her purse. "Why do you look like someone died?"
I held up my left hand.
The ring caught the light like a warning flare.
Lila's mouth actually fell open. "Is that… black diamonds? Girl, did you rob a celebrity?"
"I'm getting married," I said. My voice cracked on the last word.
She blinked. "Come again?"
"To Cassian Lockwood."
Silence. Then: "The werewolf billionaire Cassian Lockwood? The one-night-stand, left-you-a-creepy-card Cassian Lockwood?"
I nodded.
She walked straight past me, opened the freezer, pulled out the emergency vodka, and took a long swig. "Start talking. Do not skip the part where you went from 'he ghosted me' to 'here's a rock the size of my thumb.'"
So I told her everything. The pregnancy test. The hallway. The word pup. The contract. Ten million dollars. Two years of pretending. The council. The coronation. All of it.
When I finished she was sitting on the kitchen counter, bottle dangling between her knees, staring at me like I'd grown a second head.
"Werewolves are real," she said slowly.
"Apparently."
"And you're knocked up with one."
"Apparently."
"And he bought you for ten million dollars."
I flinched. "He's saving my grandmother."
Lila took another swig. "Same difference." She hopped down, walked over, and hugged me so hard I couldn't breathe. "You could run. I've got four hundred bucks and my cousin's couch in Portland."
For a second I let myself imagine it. Just disappearing. Starting over where no one knew my name or that I was carrying a half-mythological baby.
Then I thought of Grandma's paper-thin hand in mine, the way she'd whispered Rory-bug even through the tubes.
"I can't," I whispered.
Lila pulled back, eyes fierce. "Then you walk into that penthouse and you own it. Take every cent, every dress, every bodyguard, and you make him choke on his own rules." She tapped the ring. "And if any of those furry assholes look at you sideways tonight, you call me. I'll bring the wolfsbane canister my cousin keeps behind the bar and I'll go full exterminator."
I laughed through the tears that had started somewhere around werewolf. "Wolfsbane?"
"Burns like acid and knocks them on their ass for hours. Trust me."
I hugged her again. "I love you."
"I know, babe." She wiped my cheeks with her thumbs. "Now go shower. You smell like hospital and bad decisions."
The Maybach was waiting at 8:00 sharp. The driver took my single duffel like it was designer and opened the door without a word.
Lila stood on the curb in her diner uniform, arms crossed, glaring at the car like she could set it on fire with her mind. I rolled the window down.
"Text me when you land, rich girl," she called.
I flipped her off with the hand that now wore ten million dollars. She grinned.
The Lockwood Building rose like a blade of black glass. The elevator opened straight into the penthouse, and the air left my lungs.
Cold, perfect, and completely silent except for the low hum of the city far below. White marble, dark wood, windows that made the sky feel close enough to touch.
Cassian was at the window, white shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows, coffee in one hand, phone in the other. He didn't turn around.
"Your grandmother was moved to the new wing at 4:17 a.m.," he said to the glass. "She's breathing on her own. The Zurich specialist lands at six."
My throat closed. "Thank you."
Only then did he face me.
He looked exhausted. Shadows under his eyes, jaw shadowed with stubble, scar through his eyebrow standing out white. But those eyes were the same—gold, ancient, unreadable.
He took in the duffel, the ripped jeans, the hoodie with the hole in the cuff, the ring I hadn't taken off once.
"You told your friend," he said.
"She's family."
Something flickered across his face. "She'll be under my protection too. No one will touch her."
I lifted my chin. "Good. Because she's planning to hit people with pressurized wolfsbane if they try."
A corner of his mouth twitched—almost a real smile. "Your friend's threat was noted. Tell her I approve."
He set the coffee down. "You have questions."
I laughed, sharp and brittle. "Only about a thousand. Starting with: how the hell did I live twenty-three years without knowing werewolves were real?"
He moved closer, slow. "Most humans see what they expect to see. We've been public since the Accords in '98. You just never needed to look."
I swallowed. "The baby… will it… turn into a wolf?"
"Yes. Around puberty, usually. Sometimes earlier." His voice softened. "It'll be strong. That's why the council is watching."
I wrapped my arms around my middle. "You said some of them will want me gone because I'm human."
His expression went lethally calm. "They can try."
The promise in those three words made my knees weak.
He gestured down the hallway. "Your room. Closet's stocked. Wear whatever makes you feel like you could burn the world down."
The bedroom was obscene: bed the size of my old living room, windows on three sides, closet that opened automatically.
On the center island: a black box.
Inside, a gown the color of fresh blood. High neck, backless, silk that felt like liquid sin. Heels sharp enough to kill. Diamond earrings shaped like tiny crescent moons.
And a note in his sharp handwriting.
Wear the red.
Let them see the woman who brought me to my knees.
—C
I touched the fabric and felt something ignite low in my chest.
Not fear.
Armor.
Cassian's voice came from the doorway, quieter now. "Car leaves at seven-thirty. The council will smell the pregnancy the second we walk in. They'll smell you're human. Some will test you."
I met his gaze in the mirror. "And if they do?"
His smile was all teeth. "Then they learn why even monsters fear me."
He left me standing in a sea of red silk and ten million dollars' worth of survival.
Tonight I would walk into a room full of wolves wearing the color of fresh blood and the child of their future king in my belly.
And if any of them bared their teeth at me?
I'd smile and let them discover that humans bite too.
Especially when we have everything to lose.