Chapter 5
551 Words
I drifted into a haze, barely aware when Isla slipped back into bed, staring at me in the dark. Her phone kept buzzing, and soon she left again after a frantic call. By morning, she wasn't back.
Grace slid breakfast my way, all warmth. "Isla had a work thing. Stay, keep Thomas company. Play some chess."
Her casual lies stung. If I hadn't overheard her last night, I'd have bought it. I forced a smile. "Gotta hit the planners' office. Isla and I worked hard on this ceremony. Wanna make it perfect."
She nodded, not pushing. At the planners', I handed over the new materials—photos of Isla and Nathaniel, their binding shots, their honeymoon moments. She'd lied about that "business trip" too. It was all for him. I helped tweak every detail to fit the new groom. When it was done, I felt hollow, but not as broken as I expected.
At the healer's to pick up my results, I spotted Isla's car in the lot. Then I saw her, walking out of the women's clinic with Nathaniel, his hand protective on her back. They were smiling, like a perfect pair expecting pups.
My heart twitched, but I'd gone numb. Nathaniel saw me first, pulling Isla closer. "Mr. Rivers, fancy meeting you here."
Isla's face went white. She stepped away from him, sweating. "Evan, what are you doing here?"
"Picking up results," I said, my voice like ice, locking eyes with Nathaniel's taunting stare.
She rushed to me, babbling. "I had a car accident on the way to work. Nathaniel happened by and brought me here. Evan, I'm pregnant! Aren't you happy?"
I forced a breath, rage simmering. "Thrilled."
Nathaniel smirked. "Double trouble, Evan. Twins, over two months along."
A healer chased after us, eyeing the tension. "You're early in the pregnancy," she told Isla. "No mating for now. And whichever of you is her mate, watch her—she's got some bleeding. Take care."
Isla dragged me away, grabbing my results. In the car, she rambled. "I've been so busy, must've overdone it. That's why the bleeding. I'll be careful, Evan, don't worry."
I didn't respond. She knew damn well why her pregnancy was shaky. I was done calling her out. I'd made my promise—if she betrayed me, she'd lose me forever. And I had one last gift for her at the ceremony.
On the drive home, Isla's phone kept flashing. When I wasn't looking, she checked it. I caught a glimpse—Nathaniel's message about naming their pups, asking her to come over. Her reply was sharp, warning him to keep quiet around me.
I smirked to myself. She loved pups, but these weren't mine. My phone lit up with Nathaniel's friend request. Against my better judgment, I accepted. His messages flooded in, gloating about Isla's pregnancy, their binding, how she spent every night with him, how her pack mocked me behind my back. He sent photos—intimate ones. I didn't reply. What was the point? I was leaving.
For days, Isla claimed work kept her out, but Nathaniel sent proof she was with him, shopping for their pups, naming them. He taunted me about her ditching the ceremony for him. I stayed silent. He thought I was the one who'd lose. He'd see.
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