The scent hit me first—ink and paper mixed with something that made my wolf stir uneasily within me. I placed a protective hand over my swollen belly as I pushed open the door to our pack house den, the wooden frame creaking softly under my touch.
"What's going on here?" My voice came out steadier than I felt as I took in the scene before me.
Vance sat hunched over our dining table, pen in hand, signing what looked like official documents. His younger brother Marcus stood beside him, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched the pen scratch across the paper.
"Sierra." Vance looked up, his expression shifting from surprise to something that made my stomach twist. "I didn't expect you back so soon."
I moved closer, my enhanced pregnancy senses picking up the subtle scent of deception that clung to him like a second skin. "What are you signing?"
"Just some paperwork." He slid the documents toward Marcus, but not before I caught a glimpse of the property transfer form with our pack house address clearly printed at the top.
"Our house?" The words felt like glass in my throat. "You're trading away our house?"
Marcus had the decency to look uncomfortable, but Vance's face hardened into something I barely recognized. "It's just a territory swap. Marcus needs the hunting grounds, and we're getting—"
"We?" I interrupted, my hand instinctively cradling my belly tighter. "You mean you've traded away our home—our pup's future home—without even discussing it with me?"
My wolf growled inside me, the protective instinct surging through my veins like wildfire. Three months pregnant, and my mate had just stripped away our protection without a word.
"It's already done," Vance said dismissively, standing up and moving toward me with that practiced smile that once made my heart race but now made my skin crawl. "Don't worry about it. We'll find somewhere better."
Before I could respond, a knock at the door interrupted us. Vance's expression changed immediately, almost eagerly, as he moved to open it.
"Luna Hadlee," he greeted warmly, stepping aside to reveal my mother-in-law's imposing figure.
"Darling," she cooed, brushing past Vance to approach me with outstretched hands. "I heard the wonderful news about the pup. I've come to take care of you."
Her perfume was overwhelming, but beneath it, my sensitive nose detected something sour—the unmistakable scent of calculation.
"How thoughtful," I managed, forcing a smile as she took my hands in hers.
"I've brought some special herbs for morning sickness," she continued, her eyes darting around our den, cataloging every item of value. "And I wanted to discuss some... family matters."
She settled herself comfortably in our best chair, patting the seat beside her for me to join her. I sat reluctantly, feeling Vance's eyes on us.
"Such a lovely den," she remarked, her fingers trailing over the armrest. "Though perhaps a bit small for the future of the Hughes bloodline."
I stiffened. "It's served us well enough."
"For now." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "But surely your family's connections could provide something... more suitable? I've always wondered about your bloodline, Sierra. There's something about your aura..."
My wolf bristled at the probing question, but before I could deflect, another knock came at the door.
Vance practically leapt to open it this time, and my heart sank as Megan Wood stepped inside, her perfectly styled hair and designer clothes a stark contrast to my simple maternity dress.
"Sierra," Vance said, his voice oddly formal. "This is Megan. She's a close friend who needs temporary shelter."
Megan's eyes met mine briefly before dropping in a performance of demure submission. "I'm so sorry to impose," she murmured, her voice honey-sweet.
Something about her set off every warning bell in my head. "Shelter?" I echoed, looking between them. "Here?"
"We'll figure something out," Vance assured me, but his attention was already drifting back to Megan.
As if on cue, Megan suddenly gasped, clutching her side and stumbling dramatically toward Vance. "My wolf—" she whimpered, collapsing against him. "The pain—it's back."
Vance caught her automatically, his hands gentle as they guided her to the couch. "What happened? Is it the old injury?"
I stood forgotten in the corner of our own den, watching as my mate knelt beside another woman, his face etched with concern that should have been directed at me—at us—at our pup.
"Let me see," he urged, his fingers carefully examining her side where there was clearly nothing wrong.
My wolf howled in silent agony as Megan's eyes flicked up to meet mine over Vance's shoulder, a triumphant gleam in them that only I could see.
And in that moment, as I stood alone with our pup growing inside me, I realized that the house wasn't the only thing Vance had traded away without my knowledge.
