The argument started over nothing. Or maybe it started over everything. I couldn't tell anymore.
Julius was at his desk going through reports when I walked into his office. I hadn't planned to say anything. I had told myself I was just bringing him coffee. But then I saw the training schedule on his screen. Camryn's name appeared six times in one week. Private sessions. All of them marked "Alpha priority."
"You're spending more time with her than with your own pack warriors," I said quietly.
He didn't look up. "She needs intensive guidance. Her instincts are raw but promising."
"She's been here four months, Julius. At some point she needs to integrate with the regular training rotations."
"I'll decide when that point is." His tone was flat. Final. "I'm the Alpha."
Something in my chest pulled tight. "And I'm your Luna."
That made him look up. His eyes were hard. Tired. Like I was a problem he had been dealing with for too long.
"What do you want from me, Mariana? You want me to neglect a pack member because my mate is insecure? Is that what you're asking?"
"I'm asking you to see what's happening."
"What's happening," he said slowly, "is that you've become paranoid and territorial over a she-wolf who has done absolutely nothing wrong. What's happening is that you've stopped trusting me. Stopped supporting me. Stopped being the partner I need."
I felt my wolf stir weakly. A faint, pained sound.
"Julius—"
"She reminds me of you, Mariana." He stood up. Crossed his arms. His voice was quieter now but somehow worse. "The you that used to have fire. The you that walked away from Silvercrest because you believed in something bigger than yourself. The you that ran beside me when this pack was nothing. What happened to that woman?"
The words landed like a blade between my ribs.
My wolf flinched. I felt her recoil so sharply it left an ache in my chest. She went silent. Not the quiet of rest. The quiet of something broken.
I looked at Julius across the desk. At this man I had sacrificed everything for. He was looking at me like I was a stranger. Like I was the problem. Like the woman standing in front of him was some pale disappointing shadow of the girl he had once wanted.
I turned and walked out.
I didn't run. I didn't slam the door. I just left.
I went to the kitchen. The pack house was quiet. It was late afternoon and most wolves were out on patrol or training. I sat down at the counter in the dimness and pressed my hand flat against the cold granite.
I stayed there for two hours.
I didn't move. I didn't cry. I just sat in the dark with my palm on the stone and felt the cold seep into my skin.
My wolf didn't speak to me that night. Or the next day. Or the day after that.
Three days of silence.
I had never gone that long without hearing her voice.
***
On the fourth morning, I woke up nauseous.
I barely made it to the bathroom. I knelt on the tile and retched into the toilet until there was nothing left. My hands shook. My head spun.
When it passed, I sat back against the tub and pressed my fingers to my temples.
Then I felt it. A flicker. Faint. Deep inside.
Not my wolf. Something else. Something new.
I went very still.
I drove to the human clinic two towns over. I didn't tell anyone. I sat in the waiting room beside pregnant human women and filled out forms with trembling hands. When the nurse called my name, I followed her into the exam room and let her take my blood.
The test came back positive.
I stared at the paper in my hands. At the words that confirmed what my body had already known.
Pregnant. Six weeks.
I sat in my car in the clinic parking lot and cried for the first time in months. Not sad tears. Not exactly happy ones either. Just tears. Relief and terror and something fragile and luminous that I didn't have a name for.
Hope.
I drove home. I stopped at the market and bought fresh vegetables and the good cuts of meat. I spent the afternoon in the kitchen. I hadn't cooked since the Pack Feast. But now my hands remembered. I made his favorite. Rosemary lamb with roasted root vegetables. I set the table for two. I lit candles.
I was going to tell him. Tonight. Over dinner. I would tell him about the pup and maybe he would look at me the way he used to. Maybe this would be the thing that brought him back.
He came home at eight-thirty.
I heard his truck in the driveway. I smoothed my dress. I checked the table one more time. Everything was perfect.
He walked in and stopped when he saw the candles.
"What's this?" he asked.
"Dinner," I said. "I made your favorite."
He smiled. A real smile. It made my chest ache. "Smells amazing."
We sat down. He ate quickly. I watched him and tried to find the right words. The ones that would make this moment what it needed to be.
He was halfway through his plate when his phone buzzed.
He glanced at it. His expression shifted.
"Everything okay?" I asked quietly.
He set down his fork. "Camryn flagged a territorial security concern near the eastern border. I need to go assess it personally."
My hand tightened on my knife. "Now?"
"It's a security issue, Mariana. It can't wait."
He stood up. Kissed the top of my head. "This was great. Thank you. I'll be back in a few hours."
He was gone before I could speak.
I sat at the table alone. The candles burned down. The food went cold.
I pressed my hand to my stomach. To the tiny life growing there that he didn't know about yet.
"Tomorrow," I whispered. "I'll tell him tomorrow."
But deep down, in the place where my wolf used to speak, I felt something crack.
And I wasn't sure tomorrow would be any different.
