Riana stood in the living room long after the champagne bubbles had settled into quiet, flat stillness. The house felt different tonight too still, too aware of her heartbeat, of the truth pressing against her ribs, waiting to be spoken.
“What is it, my love?” Raphael waited patiently for her to speak. His broad shoulders tense as he stared at her troubled face. He looked calm on the surface, but she knew him too well now.
He was giving her space because he sensed something… because her scent had changed, because her pulse had been uneven all evening, because the bond between them hummed with unspoken words.
Her inner wolf, Geena paced anxiously.
‘Say it,’ the wolf urged. ‘Before you lose your courage.’
Riana swallowed. ‘He used to not want any children. Not too soon’
‘
