Chapter 4

Her smile widened, sharp and satisfied, as though she had been waiting for this moment all along.

“You poor thing,” Virella said softly, almost pitying. “Clinging to hope like it ever meant anything in this world of wolves and bloodlines.”

My voice trembled despite my effort to steady it. “How did you do it? You and Garrick… all this time, pretending you were the surrogate, letting me believe every lie. How long were you both laughing behind my back?”

She gave a light, careless shrug, one hand resting possessively over her swollen belly. “Oh, sweetheart, you should ask your mate. Garrick is the one who fed you every dream you were foolish enough to believe.”

Then she leaned in, her voice dropping into something poisonous and intimate.

“But if you truly want the truth between us, it was almost laughably easy to play you.”

“You lied to me,” I said, though it came out weaker than I intended.

“No,” she replied with a faint smile. “I simply played my role. You were the one who chose to believe it because you were desperate enough to hold onto him.”

My wolf stirred beneath my skin, restless, but I could not move. I could only stand there as something inside me slowly unraveled.

Her fingers traced her belly with slow satisfaction. “This child was never yours, Lyanna. He was always ours. Conceived in truth, in desire, in everything Garrick never needed to pretend with you.”

Grief rose before rage could fully form, heavy and suffocating.

“You think he stayed for duty?” she continued, her eyes gleaming. “Garrick has always belonged to blood and lineage, not broken vows or a mate who cannot give him an heir.”

I turned away before my restraint failed me, before I did something the pack would never forgive.

That afternoon, the atmosphere within the manor shifted, as though even the wind carried anticipation. I felt it long before I saw anything.

Virella’s voice rang out through the hall, pitched loud enough for every servant and guard to hear. “Garrick, your wife is staring again. It is becoming unsettling. She looks at my belly as though she wishes harm upon the pup.”

I stopped walking.

“Do not begin,” I said evenly.

She tilted her head, smiling faintly. “Perhaps she is simply bitter. After all, I do wear your garments better than you ever did.”

My hands curled into fists at my sides. “You are imagining things that do not exist.”

She stepped closer, her smile widening into something deliberately cruel. “You should be grateful he kept you at all. Most Alphas discard broken mates long before the second year passes.”

Something inside me finally snapped, though I did not touch her. I did not raise a hand.

“I do not expect you to understand loyalty or truth,” I said quietly. “So there is no point in—”

Before I could finish, she let out a sharp breath and staggered backward as though struck by invisible force. She fell to her knees, clutching her belly, her voice breaking into a sob that filled the hall.

“Garrick!” she cried. “She pushed me. The pup—something is wrong!”

“No,” I whispered, stepping forward instinctively. “That is not true. I did not—”

The air shifted violently as the front doors slammed open.

Garrick entered like a storm given form.

His eyes found Virella on the floor, trembling and broken, and then they found me standing over her.

The bond between us shuddered, but it did not soften him.

“What have you done?” His voice was low, dangerous, unrecognizable.

“I did not touch her,” I said quickly. “Garrick, you must listen—”

“Enough,” he roared, the sound shaking the very beams of the hall. “You cannot endure seeing another carry my heir. You could not bear it, so you lashed out.”

Tears stung my eyes. “I swear to you, I never touched her.”

But he no longer heard me.

Virella clung to him as though she had been waiting for his arms all along, whispering through sobs that I had threatened the pup, that I had spoken words no Luna should ever speak.

Then Garrick looked at me.

Really looked at me.

For the first time in days, there was no warmth left in his gaze.

Only judgment.

His hand struck without warning.

The force of it snapped my head sideways, pain exploding through bone and skin. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I staggered, barely keeping myself upright. The world tilted violently, sound collapsing into a dull ringing.

I touched my lip and felt blood.

Virella gasped behind him, her voice trembling in false horror. “Garrick, please… do not let this become worse. She is not herself. Perhaps she should be removed before she harms anyone else.”

He did not even glance at her when he answered.

“She will be removed.”

The guards entered at once.

This time, there was no hesitation, no escort. Only force.

I was dragged through the hallways of the manor I once ruled as Luna. My fingers scraped against stone as I tried to steady myself, but there was nothing left to hold onto.

Outside, the night had turned cruel. Snow had begun to fall, thick and silent beneath a wounded sky.

They threw me out without cloak or protection. The great doors shut behind me like the closing of a tomb.

Cold struck immediately, sharp enough to steal breath from lungs already breaking.

Still, I walked.

Step by unsteady step through the snow, through the darkness that seemed to swallow even my name. Blood warmed my lips only briefly before the cold stole it away again.

Once, I fell. Then I rose. Then I fell again.

But I kept moving.

In the distance, the manor’s light blurred through the storm like something belonging to another life.

A life that no longer claimed me.

My vision faltered.

Headlights cut through the snow, too fast, too sudden, too merciless.

I turned too late.

Impact came like thunder made of iron and bone.

My body lifted from the ground, weightless for a breathless moment, before the world shattered beneath me.

Then silence.

Snow fell gently over what remained, as though trying to erase the truth.

From the manor’s window, Garrick turned just in time to see.

For a heartbeat, he stood frozen.

Then his voice tore through the night. “Lyanna!”

He moved toward the doors.

But before he could reach them, Virella’s scream pierced the air, sharp and desperate.

She doubled over, clutching her belly.

“Garrick,” she cried, “the pup… something is wrong. I think I am going into labor.”