I went back the next day.
And the day after that.
Clementine met me each time with that same warm, unguarded smile. She talked about baby clothes she'd seen in a shop window. About cravings for strawberries and cheese. About the apartment her Alpha had found for her in Briarwood territory — small, but with good light and a view of the woods.
"He says we'll have a real home soon," she told me over her third caramel latte of the week. "Once he's free."
I stirred my tea slowly. "Free?"
"From his Luna." She lowered her voice, glancing around even though the café was nearly empty. "It's a political thing. An arrangement their families made. He says there's no real bond. No love. He's going to dissolve it properly, through the council, so we can be together the right way."
My wolf didn't even twitch.
I'd stopped being surprised three visits ago.
"That sounds complicated," I said.
Clementine nodded, her hand resting on her belly. "I know. But he promised. And he always keeps his promises."
I took a sip of tea. It had gone cold.
"Does he visit often?" I asked.
Her face softened. "A few times a week. Border patrols, he says, but he always makes time to stop by. Even if it's just for an hour." She smiled to herself. "He brought me flowers last week. Wild roses. Said they reminded him of me."
I set my cup down carefully.
Wild roses grew along the eastern boundary of Silvercrest territory. I'd planted them myself four years ago because Roland said the thorns would discourage rogues.
I catalogued it. Added it to the ledger in my head.
Clementine kept talking. About the future. About baby names. About the life she thought she was building.
I listened. I smiled. I asked gentle questions.
And I waited.
***
On the fourth visit, Roland walked through the door.
I saw him before he saw me. He was scanning the café, his shoulders tight, his jaw set. Looking for Clementine. He found her quickly — she was hard to miss, glowing and pregnant and sitting across from a stranger with her back to the door.
His eyes moved to me.
I watched recognition try to surface and fail. The wolfsbane tincture was still doing its work. My scent was neutral. Forgettable. My hair was in a plain braid, my clothes unremarkable. I looked like any other she-wolf stopping for tea on her way through neutral ground.
But something in my posture must have caught him.
Because he went very still.
Clementine turned, following his gaze, and her whole face lit up. "You're early!"
Roland didn't answer her. He was staring at me.
I met his eyes. Held them. Said nothing.
He crossed the café in four strides. His Alpha aura rolled out before him like a wave — thick, oppressive, designed to make wolves bare their necks and lower their eyes.
The she-wolf at the counter flinched. A young male near the window dropped his gaze to the floor. Even Clementine shrank back slightly, confused.
I didn't move.
Roland stopped two feet from my table. His voice came out low and hard, edged with the unmistakable command of an Alpha tone. "What are you doing here?"
I tilted my head slightly. "Having tea."
"Don't." The word cracked like a whip. His aura pressed down harder. "I don't know what game you're playing, but you need to leave. Now."
Clementine stood, her hand on her belly, her face pale. "What's going on?"
Roland didn't look at her. His eyes were locked on mine, and I could see the panic underneath the fury. He thought I was here to expose him. To make a scene. To ruin everything he'd carefully constructed.
He was wrong.
I wasn't here to make a scene.
I was here to end one.
I stood slowly. Buster rose with me, unbothered by the Alpha aura filling the room. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small cloth I'd used to apply the wolfsbane tincture that morning. Then I lifted it to my neck and wiped my pulse points clean.
The scent hit the room like a shockwave.
Deep. Ancient. Unmistakably Nighthollow.
And undeniably Luna.
Roland's face drained of color.
Clementine's hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes went wide, darting between me and Roland, trying to make sense of what she was smelling.
The she-wolf at the counter audibly gasped.
I didn't say a word.
I just stood there, letting the truth settle into every corner of the room. Letting Roland feel the full weight of what he'd done. Letting Clementine understand exactly who she'd been sitting across from for the past three weeks.
Roland opened his mouth. No sound came out.
I held his gaze for three full seconds.
Then I turned and walked toward the door.
Buster fell into step beside me, his presence steady and unbothered. I pushed the door open and stepped out into the gray afternoon. The air smelled like rain.
Behind me, I heard Clementine's voice, small and breaking. "That was your Luna?"
I didn't stop.
I didn't look back.
I just kept walking.
