Graves POV:
The penthouse felt haunted. The smell of ash from the garden wouldn't leave.
We were leaving for Paris in an hour. Alex was packing, humming a tune. Why did her humming grate on my nerves? Why was the silence in my head so loud?
"Alpha," Dustin knocked. He looked pale. "Priority package. Strange energy signature."
He placed a box on my desk. It radiated cold. And blood.
I ripped the tape. An envelope. A parchment.
I, Kimberly... reject you...
The words were written in dried blood. My breath hitched. Rejection wasn't just a breakup; it was spiritual amputation.
I looked at the bio-hazard container. Your Heir. Returned.
The world tilted.
I opened the lid. Dry ice mist curled out. Inside was a medical vial. A suspended fetus.
I could smell it. Cedar and rain. My scent. And milk.
My pup.
"No," I croaked.
The realization hit me like a freight train. She was pregnant. When the Enforcers beat her? Pregnant. When I cut her open? Pregnant.
"Graves?" Alex waltzed in. "Ready for Paris?"
She saw the vial. "Ew. Did she send a dead animal?"
The smell of her perfume shifted. It wasn't strawberries anymore. It was chemical. Fake. It smelled like the poison that killed my family.
"Get out," I whispered.
"Don't be silly, baby—"
"GET OUT!" I roared.
I reached for the Mind-Link. I slammed against a wall of solid ice. She was gone.
I looked at the vial. My legacy. Dead in a box.
