A guard pushed open the heavy oak doors of the council chamber, holding a small parcel wrapped in plain cloth.
“Captain Ravenscar,” he said carefully, “your mate sent something again.”
The moment my name was spoken, Kaelen’s expression went cold.
Like it always did.
His wolf stirred beneath his skin, restless, irritated.
“From now on,” he said flatly, “anything she sends—burn it.”
Jarek frowned, stepping closer. “It’s been months,” he said quietly. “Since your father’s death… Sariah was there too. She lost someone as well, Kaelen. She’s not your enemy.”
Before Kaelen could stop him, Jarek untied the cloth.
And opened the box.
Silence dropped instantly.
Inside was a crystal jar.
Clear. Sealed. Perfectly preserved.
And floating inside it—
A small fetus.
Fully formed. Impossible detail. Tiny hands, faint features… too real to be mistaken.
But what made the room go still wasn’t just what it was.
It was the expression.
A faint, unnatural curve at its mouth.
Almost like a smile.
The jar slipped from Kaelen’s hand.
It shattered against the stone floor.
Liquid spread across the council chamber as the body rolled slightly before coming to rest.
A healer dropped to his knees immediately, gloves already on.
One look.
Then his face changed.
“This isn’t real,” he said sharply. “It’s fabricated. Not organic. It was assembled.”
Kaelen’s jaw tightened.
“Another stunt,” he muttered. “She’s trying to get a reaction out of me.”
But I didn’t send it.
The room shifted uneasily. Even the enforcers looked disturbed now.
Jarek exhaled slowly. “Sariah wouldn’t—”
“Enough,” Kaelen cut in.
His voice was ice.
“This is a threat. She’s hinting at the heir she claims to carry.”
His eyes darkened.
“If she’s pregnant, it won’t matter. I won’t allow her to keep it.”
A pause.
Then colder—
“Women like her don’t get to tie themselves to my bloodline.”
Something inside me cracked.
He didn’t even hesitate.
Didn’t even doubt.
“I can’t stand her voice. Her face. Everything about her,” he said, turning away like the matter was already closed. “Focus on the victim. Identify her. Close the case.”
I stood there.
Unseen.
Unheard.
Already gone.
Then Kaelen reached for the mindlink stone at his wrist.
My name was still there.
For a second.
Then it disappeared.
Blocked.
Severed.
And through the broken link, his voice came one last time—sharp enough to cut clean through whatever was left of me.
“Stop this madness, Sariah. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
A beat.
“Even if you die, I won’t come running.”
But I already had.
I was the case they were trying to close.
I was the victim they still hadn’t named.
