The healer wing smelled like eucalyptus and clean linen. It was the one place in the pack house I still felt safe.
I came for my prenatal check. Miriam had asked me to come back a week after the first appointment. She wanted to measure the pup's heartbeat and adjust my supplements.
I walked in through the side corridor to avoid the main hall. I didn't want to see anyone. I didn't want anyone to see me.
Miriam wasn't at her desk. A note said she'd stepped out for ten minutes. I sat in the small waiting alcove and pressed my fingers to the mark on my neck.
Still cold. It had been cold for a week now.
Colt had performed devotion the way I'd expected. He brought me tea. He put his hand on my stomach in front of the pack elders. He made a speech at the morning gathering about the blessing of an heir. His voice was warm. His wolf, through the bond, was somewhere else.
I closed my eyes.
I heard the door of the private recovery room down the hall open. A voice, soft and slightly breathless, called out.
"Miriam? Is that you?"
I didn't answer. I stayed where I was.
The voice came again. Closer this time. "Miriam, could you bring me the—"
Ava stopped in the doorway of the alcove.
She was in a pale robe, her hair loose, her cheeks flushed the exact shade a sick woman's cheeks should be flushed. Her feet were bare. She had one hand pressed to her chest like she couldn't quite catch her breath.
"Oh," she said. "Luna."
I didn't stand. I didn't smile. I said, "Ava."
She stepped into the alcove. She was careful about it—one small step, then another, like every movement cost her something.
"I didn't know you'd be here today," she said. "I would have stayed in my room."
"I'm here for a check-up," I said. "You don't have to move."
She lowered herself into the chair across from me. She kept her hand on her chest. Her eyes stayed on mine.
"Congratulations," she said softly. "On the pup. Colt told me. He was so happy."
I didn't answer.
She kept going. "He's been so good to me these past days. I know how that must look to you. I want you to know I'm grateful. Every time he comes to sit with me, my wolf holds on a little longer. I don't think I'd still be here without him."
I watched her face. I watched the way her mouth trembled at exactly the right moments. It was very well done.
"I'm glad he's a comfort to you," I said.
She smiled. It was a small, sad smile. It was also the smile of a woman who had just been given permission.
She leaned forward. Her voice dropped.
"Sophia," she said. "Can I say something to you? Woman to woman?"
I didn't nod. I didn't need to.
"He marked you out of duty," she said quietly. "You must have known. His wolf chose me. It always chose me. Long before you. I felt it back then, and I feel it now every time he walks into the room."
My mark went colder. Ice through the bond. I didn't move.
"You must have felt it," she continued. Her voice was so gentle. "The coldness. That's what a bond feels like when the wolf on the other end is reaching somewhere else. I'm sorry. I really am. I know it isn't your fault. But you deserve to know the truth."
She waited. She wanted the reaction. She wanted the crack in my face, the tremor in my voice, something she could carry back with her and turn into a weapon.
I gave her nothing.
I looked at her for a long, even moment. Then I stood.
"Miriam will be back soon," I said. "I'll come back later."
I walked out of the alcove. I walked down the corridor. I did not hurry, and I did not slow down.
I made it to my quarters before I let anything on my face.
---
That night, I lit the desk lamp and opened the journal.
I wrote the date. I wrote the time of the encounter. I wrote Ava's exact words, in quotation marks, the way I had been taught to log dosages and symptoms. I wrote what her hands did. I wrote what her feet did. I wrote which hand she kept pressed to her chest and which she did not.
Then I turned to a fresh page.
I wrote a letter.
*To the Office of Sacred Law, Lycan Court—*
*I am writing to request a preliminary consultation regarding the provisions of the Sacred Mate Accord governing the rejection of a marked and pregnant Luna. I am not, at this time, filing a formal petition. I am requesting only that a legal officer clarify, in writing, the following:*
*One. Whether a marked Alpha may lawfully speak the rejection vow against a Luna carrying his confirmed pup.*
*Two. What penalties, if any, apply to such a rejection under Council precedent.*
*Three. Whether a pregnant Luna retains the right to petition the Council directly, without the countersignature of her Alpha.*
I signed it. I dated it. I read it three times.
Then I folded it neatly and placed it inside the journal, between Miriam's healer records and my most recent inoculation logs.
I did not send it.
Not yet.
I pressed my fingers to the mark on my neck. Still cold.
I closed the journal and turned out the lamp.
