Rejected Luna, Claimed By The Lycan King

Chapter 3: Two Lines

POV: Evelyn

"You have been sick for six days, Evie."

Mary stood in the doorway of the bakery bathroom. She held a wet towel. I knelt by the toilet. My face was gray. My hair stuck to my cheeks.

"It's the flu," I said.

"It's not the flu."

"It's the flour dust."

"Evie." Her voice cracked. "Please. Just take the test."

I stared at the little box in her hand.

Two months had passed since that night. Two months of quiet. We lived in Willow Creek now, a human town far from any pack. Mary worked at a flower shop. I baked bread at Mrs. Patel's bakery before sunrise. We rented a tiny blue house with a leaky roof. At night, I sat by the window and listened to the crickets.

It was not the life I planned. It was safe.

My wolf was awake again. She was weak, but she was there. Lately, she had been acting strange. She curled up inside me. She hummed. She felt soft.

I took the box.

My hands felt cold and heavy. The little box was light. It felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.

Three minutes later, I sat on the edge of the tub. Mary sat beside me. We both stared at the stick.

Two pink lines.

"Evie," Mary whispered.

"No."

"Evie…"

"That is not possible." My voice shook. "The healer said I could not. For five years, nothing. Not once."

"Maybe the healer was wrong."

"Maybe the test is wrong."

I took three more tests. I took them in the shop bathroom, the gas station bathroom, and our kitchen sink.

Four tests. Eight pink lines.

I put my hands over my stomach and started to cry.

Mary pulled me into her arms. I cried until my throat hurt. I did not know if I was crying from joy or fear. Maybe both. For five years, I begged the moon for a baby. I cried in the dark. I let a whole pack call me empty.

And now this. After one night. With a man whose name I did not know.

"What do I do?" I whispered.

"You see a doctor," Mary said. "And then we figure out the rest."

Dr. William's clinic sat at the end of Main Street. He was an old man with white hair and kind eyes. He used to be a pack healer, long ago, before he walked away from wolf politics. Now he treated humans and wolves who wanted to stay hidden. He did not ask questions.

He pressed the cold wand to my belly. The screen flickered.

A tiny shape appeared. A flutter of motion.

"There," he said softly. "That is your child."

I could not speak. I stared at the screen. A heartbeat filled the room. Fast. Strong. Loud.

Tears slid down my face. I did not wipe them. I put my hand on the screen, right over that tiny flutter, as if I could touch it.

"Hello," I whispered. "I am your mother."

My voice broke on the word. Mother. For five years, nobody called me that. Nobody could. Now a tiny heart said it for me.

"Nine weeks," William said. "Maybe ten. The heartbeat is very strong."

"Is the baby okay?"

"The baby is perfect." He smiled. But the smile faded fast. He put the wand down and wiped his hands. "Evelyn, I need to ask you something. Who is the father?"

My cheeks burned. "A stranger. One night."

"A wolf?"

"I think so. I don't know. He was…" I stopped. "He was more."

William's face changed. He looked at my belly for a long moment.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No. Not wrong." He pulled his chair close. His voice dropped. "Evelyn, I have delivered wolf pups for forty years. A wolf pup's heartbeat is quick. But this is different. This is deeper. And the scent coming off you now…"

"What scent?"

"It is not wolf." He met my eyes. "It is Lycan."

The room went very quiet.

I thought of gold eyes. I thought of a crowned wolf in the palm of my hand.

"That is not possible," I said.

"Lycan blood runs strong in only a few families," William said. "The royal line is one of them."

I did not answer. I could not.

Mary squeezed my hand so hard it hurt.

That evening, we walked home in the dusk. My head spun. I kept one hand on my stomach the whole way. I felt like I was carrying glass.

A black car sat in front of our little blue house.

My heart jumped. I grabbed Mary's arm.

But the man who stepped out wore a gray suit. He was thin and tired. He held a leather folder.

"Miss Hart?" he said. "I have a letter from Elder Thompson Donald of the Crescent Ridge Pack."

My blood went cold.

I took the envelope. The paper was thick. The wax seal was stamped with the pack's crest. Inside, I found two pages in Thompson's careful handwriting.

I read it out loud. My voice was thin.

"Dear Miss Hart. By Crescent Ridge law, a Luna who leaves her pack may not carry away pack property. The Hart Healing House and the land beneath it were bound into your marriage contract. If the marriage ends without your appearing before the Council, all of it passes to Alpha Ashton."

"No," Mary whispered.

I kept reading. "The Alpha has refused to sign the divorce papers. He will agree only if you stand before the Council in ten days and give up your claim. If you do not come, the marriage stays in place. And your property is his."

My hands shook.

The Hart Healing House was my father's life work. He built it with his own hands. Every wall. Every window. He died inside it, holding my mother's hand. It was the only thing we had left of them.

And Mary's inheritance. Her home. Her future.

"He wants me to crawl back," I said. "He wants me to beg."

"Then don't go," Mary said. "We will build a new life. We do not need that house."

"It is not about the house." I folded the letter. My voice shook, but it did not break. "It is about everything. If I stay hidden, he wins. He keeps the house. He keeps the marriage. And you and I stay in a cage, even if the door is open."

"Evie…"

"I am going back, Mary."

She stared at me. Then she nodded slowly. Her chin trembled. "Then I am coming too."

"You do not have to."

"You held me when Mom and Dad died," she said. "I am not letting you walk into that place alone."

I pulled her into my arms. We stood in the dark street and held each other.

That night, I could not sleep. I sat on the floor of my room with a candle. My hands shook as I dug the black coin out of my old shoe. I turned it over in the light. The wolf wore a crown. Tiny letters ran around the edge.

In the morning, I took the coin to Dr. William. He put on his glasses. He turned it in his fingers.

His face went white.

"Where did you get this?" he whispered.

"A stranger. The night I…"

"Evelyn." He set the coin down very carefully, as if it might bite him. "This is the personal seal of the Lycan King. He gives it to no one."

My stomach dropped.

"Then why did he give it to me?"

William looked at my belly. Then at my face.

"Because," he said quietly, "I think he wanted you to find him."