The Price of Silence
Pain was the first thing Elara felt.
A dull, spreading ache pulsed behind her eyes as she slowly surfaced from darkness. The scent of herbs and clean linen filled her lungs, unfamiliar and sharp. She tried to move, but her body felt heavy, uncooperative.
"Easy," a gentle voice murmured.
Her lashes fluttered open.
The pack infirmary came into focus—white walls, open windows, sunlight filtering through thin curtains. She turned her head slightly and saw the healer standing beside the bed, worry etched deep into her lined face.
"What… happened?" Elara whispered.
"You collapsed," the healer said softly. "Your body has been under too much strain."
Memory rushed back in cruel waves. Kael's voice. His rejection. The way his eyes had gone cold when he told her he didn't want her.
Elara swallowed hard. "I'm fine. I can go back to work."
The healer sighed. "You can't."
Something in her tone made Elara's heart stutter.
"Why?" she asked, though a quiet dread had already begun to bloom in her chest.
The healer hesitated, then placed a hand gently over Elara's stomach.
"You're with child," she said. "Alpha-born."
The words echoed in the room, impossible and heavy.
Elara stared at the ceiling, breath shallow. Pregnant. The thought felt unreal, distant—until warmth spread beneath her palm where the healer's hand rested. A faint pull stirred there, soft but undeniable.
A life.
Tears slid silently into her hair.
Kael would hate her for this.
As if summoned by the thought, the door opened.
The air shifted instantly.
Elara didn't need to look to know he was there. Her wolf stirred weakly, responding to his presence with an ache that bordered on pain. Slowly, she turned her head.
Kael stood rigid in the doorway, face carved from stone. His eyes went straight to her stomach, then back to her face. For a moment, something flickered in his expression—shock, disbelief, something dangerously close to panic.
"She's pregnant," the healer said quietly.
Silence stretched.
Kael's jaw tightened. "That's impossible."
The healer met his gaze evenly. "It's not."
Elara squeezed her eyes shut as the bond reacted violently, pain lancing through her chest. She curled inward slightly, instinctively protective despite everything.
"Leave us," Kael ordered.
The healer hesitated, then nodded and slipped out, closing the door behind her.
The room felt too small with him in it.
Kael took a step forward, then another, stopping beside the bed. He didn't touch her. Didn't even look at her face.
"This changes nothing," he said flatly.
Elara's breath hitched. "Kael—"
"You will listen," he cut in. "The pack cannot know the full truth. Not like this."
Her heart cracked open. "I didn't plan this. I swear—"
"I know," he said sharply, though his tone suggested otherwise. "But intention doesn't matter. Perception does."
She pushed herself up on her elbows, pain flaring. "What are you saying?"
His gaze finally met hers. Cold. Controlled. Alpha.
"There will be a contract marriage," he said. "One year."
The words landed heavier than any blow.
"A… marriage?" she whispered.
"It protects the pack," he continued, already thinking several steps ahead. "It protects the heir. After one year, once the child is born and acknowledged, we separate."
Elara's vision blurred. "And what about me?"
His silence answered that clearly.
"You will live in the Alpha house," he said after a moment. "You will act as my Luna in public. Nothing more."
Her chest ached so badly she thought she might break apart.
"You don't want me," she said quietly.
Kael looked away. "This is duty. Not desire."
Something inside her finally gave way.
She nodded once, slowly. "I understand."
The bond throbbed painfully between them, screaming lies into the fragile space—lies about belonging, about warmth, about what should have been.
Kael turned to leave.
As the door closed behind him, Elara lay back against the pillows, one hand resting over her stomach, tears finally spilling free.
She had loved him in silence.
Now she would survive him in chains.
And somewhere deep inside, beneath the pain and fear, a small, steady resolve took root.
If this was the life fate had chosen for her…
She would endure it.