Bella
I still stared at him in shock and deep down, I was also scared.
He placed a small device in my hands, the test results confirmed, bright and undeniable. I stared at it without blinking, my fingers shaking now that I wasn’t trying to hide it.
“This changes things,” he said gently.
“I know,” I replied.
He left soon after, his expression apologetic.
I sat alone on the edge of the bed, staring down at the test, my chest tight, my thoughts spiraling but controlled. I didn’t cry but I was really in panic. I didn’t let myself imagine anything beyond this moment.
Everyone was going to be talking about an Omega who threw herself on the Alpha.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway and my heart skipped.
I looked up just in time to see Alpha Darien walking past the open door, his face set, his stride purposeful. Behind him, Harry followed, tense and unreadable, already being led somewhere I was not allowed to enter.
The door closed behind them.
I lowered my gaze back to the test in my hands, my grip tightening until my knuckles ached.
~
Harry
I knew something was wrong the moment my father summoned the Council.
No agenda was mentioned or the reason he had summoned me.
That never happened unless the decision was already made.
I walked into the chamber already irritated, already prepared to argue, but the atmosphere shut that down fast. Every elder was present, seated, silent, watching me like I was a problem that needed solving. My father stood at the head of the table, arms folded, his expression hard and tired.
“What is this,” I asked, keeping my voice level, because raising it would only make things worse.
My father nodded to the healer standing near the wall. Dr. Moore looked uncomfortable, his hands clasped together, eyes lowered.
“The omega is pregnant,” my father said. “The child is yours.”
The words landed clean and final.
I laughed once, short and sharp, because it sounded wrong, because it had to be wrong. “That’s not possible.”
No one reacted.
Dr. Moore cleared his throat. “The timeline matches, Alpha Harry.”
I turned to him. “You should have told me.”
“I wasn’t permitted to.”
That snapped something in me.
I looked back at my father. “You made decisions about my life without me.”
“This is not about your life,” he said. “This is about the pack.”
I clenched my jaw, my hands tightening at my sides. “She was rejected. You all watched it happen.”
“Yes,” Elder Rowan said, calm as ever. “And pack law still applies.”
I felt heat crawl up my neck. “She is an omega.”
“She is carrying an Alpha heir,” another elder replied. “That changes nothing and everything.”
The room pressed in on me, not physically, but the weight of it sat heavy in my chest. I wanted to deny it, to find a way around it, but every option collapsed the moment I reached for it.
Marriage was the law.
Not a choice, not a suggestion.
My father stepped forward. “A contract marriage will be drafted. One year. No expectations beyond legitimacy and stability. No bond enforcement. No public intimacy beyond what is required.”
“A year,” I repeated. “And after that.”
“You may dissolve it,” he said. “If both parties survive the consequences.”
That was the threat, even if no one said it outright.
Refusal would fracture the pack, the Council would intervene. Other Alphas would circle and weakness would be exposed.
I swallowed hard. “And if I refuse.”
My father didn’t hesitate. “You won’t.”
Silence followed almost immediately.
I nodded slowly, because there was nothing else to do. “Fine.”
The contract was drawn up that same night.
Clear terms, cold language and separate living quarters. No claim beyond the child. No expectation of affection, loyalty, or future. Public appearances only when required. The bond would not be acknowledged.
I signed it because the alternative was chaos, because damage control was still control, because this was not fate, it was a problem to manage.
The ceremony happened the next morning.
No guests, no celebration. There were no words beyond the formal vow required by law. I stood beside Bella while the elder spoke, my focus straight ahead, my thoughts tight and contained.
She didn’t even look at me, not once.
She stood still, hands clasped in front of her, face blank, like she was somewhere else entirely. When the elder declared it done, she turned away before I could say anything.
That bothered me more than it should have, but then I told myself it was pride, she was just like every other woman.
Afterward, I set the boundaries immediately.
Separate rooms, different wings and no private conversations unless necessary. We would appear together only when required, meals optional, communication limited to logistics.
She nodded when I told her, her expression unchanged.
“That works,” she said quietly.
No argument or reaction form her.
That should have made this easier but somehow, it didn’t.
The pack reacted the way packs always do, with curiosity and speculation and poorly hidden judgment. I ignored it, kept my distance, focused on patrols, on meetings, on anything that kept me from thinking too long about the fact that I was married to a woman I had rejected.
I avoided her and yes, it was easy at first but then, she was too distant and cold.
At meals, she ate alone or not at all. At gatherings, she stood near the edge of the room and left early. She never challenged my rules and never pushed. This wasn't the same woman who was begging me to give her more of me.
I told myself that meant it was working and everything was going on right.