Isla POV:
The next morning, the atmosphere in the penthouse was suffocating.
Damien sat at the breakfast table, holding a small velvet box. He didn't look at me as I poured myself coffee. His attention was entirely focused on Seraphina, who was picking at a plate of fruit.
"For you," Damien said, his voice dropping to that husky register he used to use for me.
He opened the box. Inside lay a pendant of black obsidian, carved with ancient runic symbols. It was a protection amulet, usually given by an Alpha to his Luna to ward off dark magic.
"Oh, Damien," Seraphina gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "It's beautiful."
"Turn around," he commanded gently.
He fastened the heavy stone around her neck. The black crystal rested against her pale skin, a stark mark of his claim.
"It has our names inscribed on the back," he said. "So you always know who you belong to."
I stood by the counter, gripping my mug until my knuckles turned white. Obsidian. He had never given me obsidian. He had given me practical gifts-medical journals, a new stethoscope. Never jewelry. Never something that screamed *protection*.
He took his phone out and snapped a picture of her wearing it.
*Ping.*
My phone buzzed on the counter. A notification from the Pack Net.
*Alpha Damien: My precious treasure. Protected forever.*
He posted it while I was standing five feet away.
I set my mug down. The ceramic made a sharp *clack* on the granite.
"I'm going to the pharmacy," I said. "I need supplies for the... big day."
"Take a driver," Damien said without looking up.
"I prefer to walk. I need the air."
I grabbed my bag and walked out. Neither of them stopped me. I was becoming a ghost in my own life, unseen unless I was needed.
The pharmacy was in the town center, a bustling area filled with humans and wolves alike. I didn't go there for supplies. I went to buy travel sickness pills for the flight. The turbulence over the Atlantic always made my wolf uneasy.
I was standing in the aisle, reading the back of a box, when I saw them through the glass window.
Damien and Seraphina. They were walking out of the obstetrician's clinic across the street.
Damien looked ecstatic. He was holding a sonogram strip up to the sunlight, pointing at a blurry grey blob. He laughed, a deep, booming sound that vibrated even through the glass. He looked like a man who had been given the world.
I watched, mesmerized by the pain. That should have been us.
I turned to leave, pushing open the heavy glass door. The bell above it chimed loudly.
Damien's head snapped up. His eyes locked onto mine.
His smile didn't fade, but it stiffened. He said something to Seraphina, and they crossed the street toward me.
"Isla," Damien said, his tone jovial but guarded. "We just saw the heartbeat. It's strong. A warrior's heart."
"Congratulations," I said. The word felt like dry sand in my mouth.
Seraphina stepped forward. She reached out and grabbed my hand. Her skin was clammy.
"Oh, Isla, please don't be mad," she whimpered, her eyes filling with instant, practiced tears. "I never wanted to come between you. I just... I love him so much. And the baby..."
She was making a scene. People on the street were stopping. Wolves from our pack were whispering, pointing at the "gracious" mistress and the "cold" mate.
"Let go of me," I said, trying to pull my hand back.
"Please, just forgive us!" Seraphina cried louder. She stumbled forward, clinging to me.
"I said let go!" I yanked my hand away.
It wasn't a shove. It was barely a pull.
But Seraphina threw herself backward.
She let out a piercing shriek and collapsed onto the pavement, right at the base of an old Bay tree planted on the sidewalk. She curled into a ball, clutching her stomach.
"My baby! My baby!" she screamed.
The world seemed to freeze.
Then, a roar shattered the air.
"Isla!"
Damien was on me in a second. He didn't check on her first. He turned on me, his eyes flashing a violent crimson. The beast was at the surface.
He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the brick wall of the pharmacy. My head cracked against the stone. Stars exploded in my vision.
"What did you do?" he roared, his spit hitting my face. "You attacked her! You attacked my child!"
"I didn't touch her," I gasped, struggling against his grip. "She fell. She's acting."
"Liar!" The word was a physical blow, amplified by the Alpha's voice. "I saw you push her! You are jealous! You are vindictive!"
A crowd had gathered. They were looking at me with horror. The Healer, the one who saved their children, was now the villain who attacked a pregnant woman.
"Apologize!" Damien commanded.
The Alpha Command slammed into my spine. My knees buckled. My wolf whined, terrified by the aggression of her mate. The Command forced my head down, trying to make me submit, trying to make me bare my neck.
I bit my tongue until I tasted copper. I fought the Command with every ounce of my silver essence.
"No," I whispered.
"I said apologize!" Damien shook me, his fingers digging into my arms, likely leaving bruises that would take hours to heal. " apologize to the future mother of this pack!"
I looked up at him. I looked into the eyes of the man I had loved for five years.
I saw nothing there. No love. No trust. Only blind, stupid rage.
"She is not the mother of this pack," I said, my voice eerily calm amidst the chaos. "And you are not a King. You are just a fool with a crown."
Damien froze. The insult shocked him enough to loosen his grip.
I didn't run. I straightened my jacket. I looked at Seraphina, who was peeking through her fingers, checking if her performance was working.
"Check the cameras," I said, pointing to the security orb above the pharmacy door.
Seraphina saw where I pointed. She immediately let out a groan of agony. "Damien! It hurts! The blood!"
Damien forgot about me instantly. He rushed to her, scooping her up into his arms like she was made of glass.
"Hold on," he whispered frantically. "I've got you."
He ran toward the clinic, shouting for a doctor.
I stood alone on the sidewalk. The crowd parted around me like I was diseased.
I didn't cry. The part of me that could be hurt by him had died the moment he slammed me against the wall.
Now, there was only the cold calculation of the escape.
