Ellery POV:
Fireworks tore the sky apart in red, white, and blue.
The Gala was in full swing on the lawn. Waiters, champagne, the elite of the werewolf world pretending to be civilized.
I stood on the balcony in a beige dress. Camouflage. Just like Brendan liked.
The crowd parted.
Kiya arrived.
She wasn't wearing beige. She was in white, a Grecian gown that clung to her. She held her stomach like it was a trophy.
A slap in the face to every werewolf tradition.
Brendan moved toward her. He didn't look ashamed. He looked... proud.
I turned away and slipped down to the lake.
The boat house was dark and quiet. I stepped inside to breathe.
Voices on the dock.
"She looked like a ghost up there," Kiya sneered. "A beige ghost."
"Keep it down," Brendan hissed. No bite in his tone.
"Why? Everyone knows, Brendan. She's a Barren She-Wolf. A genetic dead end."
The word Barren cut like a serrated knife.
"She is useful, Kiya," Brendan said.
"Useful? She's a glorified alarm system! I am carrying your son. Your Alpha Heir. She is... what? A broken toy?"
"She is the facade," Brendan said wearily. "We need her for the Council. We need her for the wards. She is a necessary inconvenience. Once the pup is born... I'll move her to the North Wing. You take the master suite."
My wolf didn't growl. She let out a death rattle.
Right there in the dark, she laid her head on her paws and gave up.
He rejected us, she whispered. With truth.
I pulled out my phone.
To: Evans
Message: Tonight.
I dropped the phone in the trash.
I walked out, staying downwind.
I watched Brendan place his hand on Kiya's stomach. He looked reverent.
I touched my own flat, scarred stomach.
"Goodbye, Brendan."
