Seven years of being bonded, and I had stopped counting the she-wolves my mate, Kael Blackwood, had taken to his bed.
The reason I had looked away all this time?
He always showered me with territory gifts afterward.
A heat-entanglement with some low-ranking Omega from a neighboring pack? A private den in the heart of our central territory.
A moonlit gathering with young unmated females? A hunting lodge along the eastern ridge, deeded to my name alone.
He bought off my rage, my questions, my grief—all with his wealth and land offerings.
Until I was eight moons heavy with his pup, and my baby died inside me. A stillborn. The healers had to force my body to release him.
I leaned on the denkeeper's arm, barely able to stand, as I shuffled out of my recovery chamber in the healer's den.
That was when I caught his scent—in the birthing room next door. Kael, hovering over another Omega who had just whelped, handling her like she was something precious and fragile.
Our eyes met. A flash of panic crossed his features before the familiar coldness settled back into place.
He walked over and held out a territory deed, blank where the boundaries should be marked.
"Name whatever land you want."
I tore it to shreds.
I looked at him and smiled.
"Kael, I do not want territory this time."
My trembling hand rose, pointing past him toward the thin, reedy cry coming from that birthing chamber.
"I want that pup."
1.
"Selene, have you lost your mind?!"
Disbelief was carved into every line of Kael's face.
I said it again. "I want that pup."
The aftermath of the forced birth had left me so weak that every word felt like it was draining the life force from my body.
"What game are you playing?" He kept his voice low, a growl barely contained. "That is not your pup!"
"Your pup is gone!"
Yes. My pup was gone. Dead.
"Your pup," I said softly, "is that not also my pup?"
"Or would you rather the Blackwood Pack's firstborn heir enter this world branded as a rogue-born bastard?"
Kael's jaw clenched shut.
He and I had grown up together. Our packs went back generations—ancient bloodlines intertwined with ancient bloodlines. The Blackwood Pack and the Nightshade Pack were both old-blood houses that lived and died by lineage and honor.
He could stray. He could have his heat entanglements. But a stain on the pack's bloodline? That was the one thing that would never be tolerated.
On the birthing bed, Vesper Ashfen finally understood what was happening.
She struggled to sit up, her voice shrill: "Kael! You cannot give her my pup! This is my only—"
Her only weapon for clawing her way into the pack.
A rogue-born Omega of her unremarkable blood, dreaming of rising through motherhood? Delusional.
I watched Kael's face twist with conflict, and suddenly, the whole scene struck me as grotesquely absurd.
I gathered the last of my strength, shoved him aside, and walked into the room, one agonizing step at a time.
Vesper flinched, clutching the swaddled pup tighter against her chest, her scent spiking with fear.
"Hello, Third Mistress," I said. "I am Selene Nightshade. Kael's bonded mate."
I forced my lips into a rigid smile and delivered the truth, syllable by syllable.
"Starting today, I am this pup's mother."
I paused, savoring the way her face drained of color, then twisted the knife deeper.
"And you? Your pup was stillborn. Forced birth. Do you understand?"
Those two words—forced birth—I barely whispered them.
But they cut so deep I could hardly breathe.
"NO!"
Vesper's scream shattered the air. She grabbed the fur pelt from behind her and hurled it at me.
"You are lying! This is MY pup! MINE!"
Kael followed me in, his expression pained.
"Kael, you cannot let her take our pup!" Vesper sobbed, reaching for him desperately, her Omega scent thick with distress.
Kael looked at me, caught between two impossible choices.
"Selene..."
I leaned in close and murmured in his ear:
"The Westside Hunting Grounds Accord... the Pack Elder cares about it a great deal. And it just so happens to be in my brother's hands."
Kael went rigid.
