I gave birth on a metal table in a windowless infirmary beneath the Council Hall.
There were no flowers. No family. No mate bond guiding Ronan toward me through the pain.
Only two nurses, a frightened healer, and Elder Garrick standing near the door as if he were supervising the delivery of an inconvenient package.
"Where is Ronan?" I demanded between contractions.
No one answered.
"Where is my husband?"
The older nurse tightened her grip on my knee. "Save your strength."
"He is not your concern anymore," Garrick said.
I wanted to throw something at him. I wanted my wolf to rise and tear his throat open.
I had no wolf.
So I pushed.
Pain ripped through my body until I could not tell where the severing wound ended and labor began. The baby was early. The healer kept muttering about fetal distress and a weakened maternal bond.
That phrase terrified me.
"Is my baby alive?"
"Push again," the healer ordered.
"Tell me."
"Elara, push now."
I screamed and bore down.
A baby's cry cut through the room.
Thin.
Furious.
Alive.
My whole body collapsed with relief.
"Let me see."
The younger nurse lifted the infant only long enough to wrap a blanket around a tiny, wet body.
I saw dark hair.
One clenched fist.
Nothing else.
"Bring my baby here."
The nurse looked toward Garrick.
That single glance chilled me more than the room.
"No," I said.
Garrick nodded once.
The nurse turned toward the door.
"No. Bring my child back."
I tried to sit up. The older nurse pushed me down.
"You are hemorrhaging."
"I don't care. Give me my baby!"
The infant cried again from the hallway.
I never heard that cry leave my nightmares.
"The Alpha's heir must be protected until the poisoning investigation is resolved," Garrick said.
"Protected from whom? Me?"
"From instability."
I stared at him, unable to understand the words.
"I just gave birth."
"And yesterday you stood accused of poisoning the woman chosen to advise this pack."
"Serena is a liar."
"Then pray the evidence proves it."
The door shut behind my child.
I screamed until my throat tore raw.
The healer tried to stop the bleeding while I fought him. I demanded the baby's weight, his breathing, anything. The younger nurse finally whispered that the child was small but strong, that his heart was steady, that he had gripped her finger before Garrick ordered him removed.
"Did he open his eyes?" I asked.
She nodded once.
"What color?"
Before she could answer, Garrick told her to leave.
That stolen almost-answer became the only picture I had of my son. I held onto it because there was nothing else.
Hours disappeared.
When I woke, I was back in the South Wing.
My stomach was flat beneath the blankets. My neck burned where the mate mark had been cut open. Every muscle in my body ached with the empty shock of birth.
Ronan sat beside the fireplace.
He looked as if he had not slept.
I turned my head toward the cradle that should have been beside my bed.
There was none.
"Where is the baby?"
Ronan stood. "Stable. The healer says the lungs are stronger than expected."
"Boy or girl?"
His face changed.
My heart stopped.
"You don't know?"
"I know."
"Then tell me."
He came closer.
I pulled the blanket up as if it could protect me from him.
"Elara—"
"Do not say my name. Tell me where my child is."
"The Council moved the baby to the central nursery."
"And you allowed it."
"There are guards. A healer around the clock."
"Boy or girl, Ronan?"
His jaw clenched.
"A boy."
The words broke through me.
A son.
I had a son whose face I had never seen.
"Bring him to me."
"I can't. Not tonight."
"You are the Alpha."
"The Council is one vote away from open revolt. Garrick is arguing that the severing removed your legal claim to the heir until the inquiry is finished."
"My legal claim? I am his mother."
"I know."
"Then act like you know."
Ronan reached for me.
I flinched so he stopped.
For the first time, I noticed how empty the air was around him. No cedar, no winter pine, no pull beneath my ribs. The ritual had done exactly what Garrick promised.
It had made my mate a stranger.
"Get out," I whispered.
"Elara."
"Get out."
He left.
I lay awake listening for a baby's cry that never reached the South Wing. Milk soaked the front of the borrowed nightgown, a physical proof of a child I was forbidden to touch. No nurse came to help. No one brought a pump or warm compresses until I rang the bell so many times that an irritated maid finally appeared.
"The nursery has its own wet nurse," she said when I asked how my son was being fed.
I had to grip the bedframe to keep from striking her.
Near midnight, I heard voices carrying through the heating grate.
Two servants whispering outside.
Serena had been moved out of the infirmary. Serena had been given rooms beside the nursery. Serena had attended an emergency council session despite supposedly being too weak to stand.
I got out of bed.
The hallway swayed beneath my feet, but rage kept me upright.
I wore no shoes. I took the silver paper knife from Ronan's abandoned desk because I no longer trusted anyone in this house.
The Council Hall door stood partly open.
I stopped outside it.
Garrick's voice carried through the gap.
"The heir needs a recognized maternal figure."
Serena answered, soft and triumphant. "I will raise him as my own if the pack requires it."
My fingers tightened around the paper knife.
Then Ronan spoke.
"Elara remains confined to the South Wing until I finish the investigation. She is not to see the child without Council approval."
The world went silent.
The brass doorknob slipped from my numb hand.
The silver paper knife fell onto the hallway rug.
