The smell of iron was permanent now. It clung to my skin, the sheets, even my breath. I barely recognized the sound of my own heartbeat—slow, soft, as if it too was tired of fighting.
The infirmary lights buzzed overhead, their glow sharp against the hollows of my cheeks. I hadn’t walked in two days. My limbs were weightless, not in grace, but in emptiness. The twins inside me shifted less. They seemed to sense it. The fading.
Maya stood at the foot of my bed, arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze lingered on the translucent veins beneath my skin, the bluish tint along my fingers. She looked older than usual. Not because of time, but guilt.
"She needs rest, Rodriguez," Maya said, her voice firm but low. "A week at least. Maybe two. Her blood pressure is collapsing. She's losing too much, too fast."
Rodriguez stood across the room, near the shuttered window. His expression didn’t shift. Cold, unreadable, as always.
"You told me she'd survive," he said.
"Not like this." Maya took a step forward. "She's an hour from organ failure. You keep draining her, and she won’t even make it to the birth."
"Elisa needs the nourishment."
Maya flinched, barely.
"Elisa is stable now. Gaining weight. Strength returning. But Anna—she's fading."
"Then do something about it. That’s your job, isn’t it? Keep her alive until she delivers."
"She’s not livestock, Rodriguez."
He finally turned. "No. She's a means to an end. She always has been."
My fingers twitched on the sheet. I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw the tray at the wall, claw my way out. But I couldn't move. Not really. The ache had settled into my marrow.
Maya was quiet for a long moment. Then, "She hears you, you know. Every word you say. Every time you refer to her like she's less than your mate."
Rodriguez stared at me. "She's not my mate. Never was."
His voice didn’t carry rage. It was worse than that. It carried indifference.
Maya pressed her hands to her temples. "You think you're in control, but you’re not. You’re making enemies in every shadow."
Rodriguez didn't answer.
"Anna has more loyalty in this pack than you realize. When she dies, it won't be quiet."
"She won't die," he said flatly. "Not until she's done."
Maya's jaw clenched. She walked toward the bed and checked my pulse, though we both knew it wasn’t for the records. She needed the touch. A silent apology, maybe.
My lips parted. It took more effort than it should have. "Don’t... beg him, Maya."
Her eyes found mine, startled.
"He won’t give mercy. He doesn’t have it."
Rodriguez made a sound behind us—a half scoff, half exhale.
"Then why keep fighting?" Maya whispered.
"Because my babies deserve better than to come into this world under her breath."
Rodriguez stepped closer. "She saved your life, Anna."
I laughed, dry and ragged. "No. She marked it for death. And you’re letting her finish the job."
For a second—just a second—his expression shifted. A flicker of something human.
Then it was gone.
"Rest her, then," he said to Maya. "Three days. No more. After that, if she can breathe, she can bleed."
Maya exhaled shakily.
He turned and left, boots echoing down the hall.
Night came like a shroud. I drifted in and out, dreams mixing with memories, and sometimes I couldn’t tell which was worse. I saw my father’s face, blurry now. The man who took me in. The man who gave me to this pack, thinking it would protect me.
I felt the touch of the twins again, subtle, fluttering. Alive.
"Hold on," I whispered. "Just hold on."
Outside, the wind howled through the trees.
But inside me, something else howled back.
The moon hung swollen in the night sky, casting silver light over the stone corridors of the den. The walls breathed with ancient secrets, damp with old blood and betrayal. I lay curled on the infirmary bed, unable to move, the weight of my own body a coffin.
Outside the door, their voices cut through the quiet.
“She should’ve never carried them,” Elisa hissed. “You know what they mean.”
Rodriguez’s voice followed, low and sharp. “I didn’t plan it. The heat came early. I needed to claim her to keep the elders quiet. That was all she was ever meant to be—a placeholder. The adopted stray of a dead Alpha.”
“You should’ve let her die the first time,” Elisa said, venom lacing her words. “You’re too sentimental.”
A short, bitter laugh from him. “Sentiment? I would’ve gutted her myself if it wouldn’t have made the Council suspicious. Hell, if you could stomach raw flesh, I’d carve her up now and feed you her heart.”
Something inside me splintered. Not from grief, but clarity. The illusion shattered. The man I once believed had chosen me was nothing but a mask for hunger.
Elisa’s footsteps drew closer. I shut my eyes, slowing my breath.
“She’s still strong,” she said quietly. “Even now, there’s too much fight in her blood. I can taste it in every drop Maya gives me.”
“You’re jealous,” Rodriguez replied. “You feel it too. The twins inside her—they carry something ancient. Power. That’s why you want them gone.”
“No,” Elisa growled. “I want them dead because they’re hers.”
The silence that followed cracked like ice over a river.
“I’ll deal with it,” Rodriguez said finally. “When the time comes, we’ll say she died during birth. The pack will grieve, then forget. Just like they forgot her parents.”
I couldn’t stop the low snarl that slipped from my throat. My body trembled from the effort, but I forced my eyes open, forced the truth into the air.
“You don’t get to write my death,” I rasped. “Not while I still draw breath.”
Rodriguez stepped into the room. The hatred in his gaze was no longer hidden. It bloomed freely now, like rot.
“You should’ve stayed a mystery,” he said. “You were easier to control when you didn’t know who you were.”
“Even broken wolves bite,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
Elisa tilted her head. “And yet, you lie there like meat. Pathetic.”
“I’ll remember those words when your bones are ash beneath my feet.”
Rodriguez lunged forward, gripping the rails of the bed. “You think you’ll survive this? You think the pack would believe you over me? You’re an orphaned mongrel. They only tolerated you because of your bloodline.”
“But it’s my blood keeping your precious Elisa alive,” I spat.
He leaned closer, the stench of his breath heavy with disdain. “Not for long. Maya’s running out of reasons to protect you. When you deliver, I’ll make sure Elisa gets everything she needs. Everything. Even if it means tearing it from you.”
The door creaked, and Maya entered. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene. “Enough,” she snapped. “Out. Both of you.”
Rodriguez didn’t move.
“I said out!” Maya’s voice thundered like an elder’s roar.
Reluctantly, they stepped back. Elisa gave me one last glance—calculated, cold. “We’ll finish this soon, Anna.”
They left.
Maya closed the door and locked it. Her hands were shaking.
“He means it,” she whispered. “They both do.”
“I know.”
“We need to move you. Tonight. Before they come again.”
I stared at her, my body barely holding together.
“Then do it,” I said. “Get me out.
