Chapter four
1037 Words
The tracker's scent reached Blood Moon on a Tuesday morning, three weeks after my arrival.
I noticed because my wolf surged to alertness during breakfast, hackles rising for no visible reason. A sensation like cold water dripped along my spine like a close anger.
Michael burst into the main hall moments later, dragging a young male wolf by the collar. The stranger thrashed and snarled, mud caking his clothes, pine needles stuck in his tangled hair. Michael threw him to the floor before Lambert's chair.
"Caught him at the southern perimeter," Michael said. "Crescent Moon scent. Carried no identification."
The hall went silent. Every wolf present turned predator eyes toward the captive.
Lambert leaned forward in his seat. He did not raise his voice, but the authority in his tone pressed against the room like atmospheric pressure before a storm. "Who sent you?"
The tracker spat on the floor. "I answer only to my Alpha."
"Your Alpha has no jurisdiction here. You trespassed on sovereign territory. By Lycan law, I can hold you indefinitely or send you home in pieces. Choose which outcome you prefer and speak accordingly."
Something in Lambert's calm delivery broke through the tracker's bravado. The young wolf's eyes darted around the hall, searching for allies, finding none.
"Alpha Douglas Roland sent me," he finally said. "To locate a woman. Elena Valda. He believes she carries his heir."
The hall erupted in murmurs. Dozens of gazes swung toward me. My stomach dropped through the floor.
Lambert raised one hand. Silence returned immediately.
"Take him to the holding cell," Lambert ordered Michael. "Feed him. Do not harm him. I will question him further at dusk."
Michael hauled the tracker away. Lambert rose and crossed the hall toward me. He stopped at arm's length, close enough for privacy but far enough to avoid drawing more attention.
"My office," he said. "Now. Please."
I followed him through a corridor lined with weapons mounted on dark wood, past a library with shelves climbing to the ceiling, and into a room dominated by a massive oak desk. Maps papered the walls. Lambert closed the door and turned to face me.
"Tell me everything," he said. "Hold nothing back."
And so I did. The engagement. The three years of planning. My father's death on the morning of the ceremony. The sacred ritual and the consummation that followed. The bridal chamber. Angelina in white. Douglas's cowardice. The rain and the running.
And the pregnancy.
Lambert listened without interrupting. His face remained composed, but his hands tightened on the desk edge until his knuckles blanched.
When I finished, he was quiet for a long time.
"The child was conceived during the sacred ceremony," he finally said. "Under Lycan law, that makes the pup a legitimate firstborn heir to Crescent Moon regardless of what occurred after."
"Yes."
"And Douglas knows this."
"He must. That is why he sent his wolf to find me."
Lambert pushed off the desk and paced toward the window. Outside, Blood Moon wolves trained in the sparring yard, their movements sharp and disciplined. He watched them for several breaths before speaking.
"He will not stop with one tracker. He will send more. And if those fail, he will petition the Lycan Council for a paternal claim hearing."
Fear gripped my throat. "Can he take my child?"
Lambert faced me. His expression shifted into something fierce, something absolute, like a wall rising between me and every threat beyond it. "Not while you stand on my land. Not while I breathe. Your pup will grow up safe, loved, and untouched by that man's weakness."
Tears burned behind my eyes. I fought them with everything I possessed.
"Why?" I asked. "You owe me nothing. This bond between us... I have not accepted it. I have given you no reason to care this deeply."
He crossed the room in two strides and stopped directly before me. Close enough that I could feel warmth radiating from his chest. Close enough to see the flecks of gold buried in his amber irises.
"Because no one protected my mother," he said. "Because she suffered alone for fifteen years while every wolf around her looked away. Because I swore on her scars that if the opportunity ever came to shield someone the way she should have been shielded, I would not hesitate. Bond or no bond, Elena. You are protected here."
A tear escaped. One single drop, the first I shed since walking out of that bridal chamber. It rolled down my cheek and fell from my jaw.
Lambert caught it with his thumb. His touch was feather-light, careful, like handling something precious.
"No more tears for men who do not deserve them," he murmured. Then he stepped back, restoring the distance between us.
A knock sounded at the office door. Michael entered without waiting.
"Problem," the Beta said, his face grim. "A woman arrived at the gate requesting entry. Says she is Elena's sister. Calls herself Angelina Valda."
My blood froze. Lambert's eyes locked onto mine.
"She came bearing gifts," Michael continued. "Crying. Begging the guards to let her see her sister. Says she wants to apologize and make peace."
I shook my head slowly. "She does not apologize. She does not make peace. She only takes."
Lambert studied me for one long moment, then turned to Michael. "Let her in. Give her a guest room on the east wing. Post two guards outside her door at all times. Monitor every communication she attempts, incoming or outgoing. If she sends so much as a whispered word beyond these walls, I want to know about it before the sound finishes leaving her mouth."
Michael nodded and departed.
Lambert sat on the edge of his desk and folded his arms. "We let the fox into the den," he said. "And we watch where she runs."
My hands curled into fists at my sides. Angelina was here. In the same building where my unborn children rested beneath my heart. Every instinct screamed to flee again, to run until no one could reach me.
But I was done running.
"Let her play her game," I said, and my voice did not waver. "This time, I will be watching too.”
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