"Draw another ounce." Ethan’s voice cut through the sterile quiet of the nursery.
"Alpha, she is already trembling," Thorne replied.
"I said draw it."
The thick needle dug deeper into my vein. I bit the inside of my cheek until it bled. The clear tubing flashed crimson, siphoning the glowing origin power straight from my bloodstream into the waiting vial.
My stomach cramped. A sharp, hollow ache radiated from my womb. The tiny flutter of life inside me, usually so active, had grown terrifyingly still over the last two weeks.
"He needs more," Ethan insisted. He stood over the gilded crib, gently stroking Orion’s cheek. The infant cooed, his skin now a healthy, vibrant pink.
"Ethan," I rasped. My throat felt like sandpaper. "Please. The baby... my baby isn't moving."
He didn't even glance my way. "Orion’s color is finally returning. You will sit there until Thorne is finished."
A violent cough ripped through my chest. I slapped my hand over my mouth. When I pulled it away, wet crimson smeared my palm.
Thorne paused, his eyes widening at the blood. "Luna, your internal organs are straining."
"Keep going," I ordered, my voice hollow. If I stopped now, Ethan would drag me to the square. I wiped my bloody palm on my gray sweatpants.
Ethan lifted Orion from the mattress, cradling him against his broad chest. "You are doing so well, little wolf," he murmured to the boy. His tone held a warmth I hadn't heard in months. A warmth reserved entirely for Ivy’s orphan.
"Alpha," a young nurse interrupted, stepping into the doorway. "The council requires your signature on the territory expansion. And... the Luna's prenatal vitamins arrived."
Ethan scoffed. He adjusted the blanket around Orion. "Throw the pills out."
"But Alpha," the nurse stammered, "her pregnancy—"
"Her pregnancy is an unnecessary burden," Ethan stated clearly. The words echoed off the stone walls. "It drains resources we need for Orion. If her pup doesn't survive the extraction process, it wasn't strong enough to bear my name anyway."
The nurse lowered her head and scurried away.
I stared at the man I married. I should have screamed. I should have thrown the silver tray at his head. Instead, a dry, broken chuckle slipped past my lips.
Ethan finally turned to me, his brows knitted in disgust. "What is funny?"
"Nothing," I whispered. "Nothing at all."
Thorne pulled the needle free and pressed a cotton bandage to my bruised arm. "We are done for today."
I didn't wait for Ethan's dismissal. I pushed myself up from the leather chair. The floor tilted. Black spots danced across my vision.
"Be here at dawn tomorrow," Ethan commanded to my back.
I stumbled out of the nursery into the long, drafty corridor. The heavy oak door clicked shut behind me, severing me from my husband and the child he chose over ours.
My knees gave out.
I braced for the hard impact of the stone floor. It never came.
Thick, muscular arms wrapped around my waist, hauling me upward. The scent of pine and rain washed over me.
"I have you," a deep voice rumbled.
I blinked away the dizziness. Silas. The pack’s lead tracker stood over me, his jaw set in a hard line. He rarely spoke, preferring to blend into the shadows of the estate, but right now, his golden eyes burned with quiet fury.
"Put me down, Silas," I mumbled, trying to push against his chest. My arms had no strength.
"This is the third time this week you have collapsed," Silas noted. He didn't let go. Instead, he shifted his grip, supporting my weight completely. "You are bleeding from your mouth, Luna. You are fading."
"I'm fine."
"You are lying." Silas guided me to a carved wooden bench against the wall and eased me down. He dropped to one knee in front of me.
Another wave of nausea hit. I curled forward, wrapping both arms around my stomach. "My pup," I gasped. "I can't feel my pup."
Silas stripped off his leather gloves. Without asking for permission, he pressed his bare palm directly against my abdomen.
Heat flared from his skin. A surge of raw, untainted energy flowed into my freezing body. My wolf whined in relief, eagerly absorbing the warmth.
"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"Stabilizing the womb," Silas answered. His gaze remained locked on my stomach. "Your core is entirely depleted. I have watched you tear yourself apart for days. If I do not anchor the pup's life force right now, you will miscarry before midnight."
I squeezed my eyes shut. A tear finally broke free, tracking through the dried blood on my chin. "He called my baby a burden."
"I heard." Silas’s jaw clenched. The muscles in his neck pulled taut. "The Alpha is blind."
"He's going to drain me until there's nothing left."
Silas lifted his head. His golden eyes locked onto mine, intense and unyielding. "Then you must stop giving it to him."
"You know what he threatened. The Rite of Rejection. Exile."
"Exile is better than a grave." Silas pressed harder against my stomach. The heat intensified. Deep inside, a faint, answering flutter tapped against his palm.
My breath caught. "The baby moved."
"The pup is fighting," Silas said. He slowly pulled his hand away, though the warmth lingered in my veins. "But it cannot fight a daily extraction. You are on the verge of a total collapse, Serena."
He used my first name. No title. No formalities.
"If I run," I whispered, glancing nervously down the empty hall, "Ethan will hunt me down. He will brand me a traitor. I'll have nowhere to go."
Silas stood. He towered over me, a massive shadow blocking the dim chandelier light. "You have allies you do not see."
"Who?" I asked bitterly. "The nurses who look away? The doctor who stabs me with that needle every morning?"
"Me."
I stared at him. The lead tracker answered only to the Alpha. Offering to help me was treason.
"Why would you risk your life for me?"
"Because I refuse to stand in the dark and watch you die." Silas reached into his black coat and pulled out a small, folded piece of parchment. He slipped it into my trembling hand. "Memorize the map. Burn the paper."
"What is this?"
"A way out." Silas stepped back, his expression smoothing into a mask of professional indifference as footsteps echoed from the far staircase. "Tomorrow night, during the border patrol shift change. Be at the weeping willow by the east gate."
"Silas—"
"Do not fail me, Serena. I will only offer this once."
He turned and melted into the shadows of the corridor just as Thorne emerged from the nursery.
The doctor eyed me suspiciously. "Luna? Are you unwell?"
"Just catching my breath," I lied, my fingers tightening around the hidden parchment.
I forced myself to stand. My legs shook, but the faint pulse of my baby grounded me. I had a choice to make. Stay and let Ethan bleed my child dry, or risk the wrath of the entire kingdom by running into the unknown.
As I walked back to my empty bedroom, a sharp, piercing pain suddenly ripped through my lower back. I grabbed the doorframe, gasping for air.
Warm liquid rushed down my thighs.
I looked down.
Blood. Puddling on the floorboards.
"No," I choked out. "No, please, not yet."
The door at the end of the hall swung open, and Ethan stepped out, his eyes locking onto the crimson pool at my feet.
