CHAPTER 2
1350 Words
Zirah's POV
The pack healer pressed the moonstone against my lower belly and held it there.
I watched it with my breath trapped somewhere between my throat and my chest. The stone was cold at first. Then warm. Then it started to glow.
A soft, silver pulse. Faint at the edges but bright at the center. Like a tiny star had been placed inside the crystal and was breathing on its own.
I hadn't been poisoned.
I was pregnant.
"One week along," the healer said quietly. Her voice carried a reverence that I had never heard anyone use when speaking about anything connected to me. "The substance you coughed up was not poison. It was a rejection response. Your body was adjusting to the new life forming inside it. It happens sometimes with omegas whose wolves have been dormant."
I couldn't speak.
My hand moved to my stomach on its own. Hovering just above my skin like I was afraid that touching it would make the truth disappear.
One week.
Seven days ago, Lucien had come to our bed after a territorial dispute with a neighboring pack. He had been furious. Aggressive. Full of adrenaline that had nowhere else to go. He hadn't spoken a word to me that night. Just pushed me onto the mattress and took what he wanted.
I had laid there, staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks like I always did.
And somehow, in the middle of all that emptiness, life had found a way.
"Are you certain?" My voice cracked on the last word. "Please. I need you to be absolutely certain."
The healer held the moonstone higher so I could see it clearly. The glow pulsed in rhythm. Steady. Alive.
"The moonstone does not lie, Luna."
Luna.
She had called me Luna. Not omega. Not Zirah. Not "the debt wife" like the rest of the pack whispered when they thought I couldn't hear.
Luna.
I pressed both palms flat against my belly and something inside me shifted. Not physically. Something deeper. A wall that had been crumbling for two years suddenly found a single brick to hold onto.
This baby would change everything.
Lucien wanted an heir. He had said so a hundred times. The Sinclair bloodline needed to continue. His father had demanded it before he died. The pack elders had reminded him at every gathering. An Alpha without an heir was an Alpha without a future.
And now I was carrying that future inside me.
He would have to acknowledge me. He would have to present me to the pack. He would have to stand beside me and place his hand where mine was now and feel what I was feeling.
He would have to see me. Finally, truly see me.
"Healer Nessa." I grabbed her wrist gently. "Please don't tell anyone. Not a soul. I want to tell him myself."
She bowed her head. A small, respectful dip that made my eyes burn.
No one had ever bowed to me before.
"As you wish, Luna."
I left the healer's quarters with my hand still pressed to my stomach. The hallway was empty and the afternoon light came through the tall windows in golden sheets. For the first time in two years, I noticed how beautiful this house was.
Lucien's estate sat on twelve acres of private land overlooking the mountains. Every surface was marble or dark wood. Every room smelled of cedar and old money. I had walked these halls a thousand times feeling like a ghost passing through a mansion that belonged to someone else.
Today the floors felt warm under my feet.
I spent the next three hours preparing.
Our second wedding anniversary was tonight. I had almost forgotten until the kitchen staff reminded me that morning. Lucien had made no mention of it. He never did. But I had set the table anyway. Candles. His favorite wine. A meal I had cooked myself because the kitchen staff always made faces when I asked to use the stove.
I even put on the one nice dress I owned. A simple white thing that Lucien's mother had left behind before she passed. It was too big in the shoulders and too long at the hem but it was the most beautiful thing I had ever worn.
I paced the bedroom. Practicing what I would say.
"Lucien, I have news."
Too stiff.
"Lucien, something has happened."
Too vague.
"Lucien, you're going to be a father."
My reflection smiled back at me and I barely recognized her.
An hour passed. Then two.
He didn't come.
I found one of the house staff in the corridor. A young woman named Petra who avoided eye contact with me like I was contagious.
"Do you know where Lucien is? He was supposed to be back by now."
"The Alpha is in the west wing, ma'am. Private meeting with the other pack leaders. He gave strict orders not to be disturbed."
"How long has he been in there?"
"Since noon."
I chewed my lip. "I made food. Can I at least bring it to him?"
Petra hesitated. Something flickered behind her eyes that I couldn't quite read.
"You would have to speak to Beta Dorian about that."
I found Dorian stationed outside the west wing like a wall made of muscle and bad attitude. He was Lucien's cousin and right hand. Six foot four. Arms like logs. A permanent scowl etched into his face that deepened the moment he saw me coming.
"No," he said before I even opened my mouth.
"Dorian, please. I just want to bring him something to eat. Five minutes."
"The Alpha is occupied. Maren has already arranged dinner for the meeting."
The name hit me like a fist to the throat. Of course. Maren. Always Maren.
"But it's our anniversary," I said. The words came out smaller than I intended.
Dorian looked at me the way you look at a stain on an expensive carpet. Annoying but beneath the effort of a proper cleaning.
"Go back to your room, omega."
"I am his wife."
"You are his obligation. There is a difference. Now leave before you cause a scene that gets you hurt."
I stood there, holding the tray of food I had spent hours making. My fingers were trembling but I locked my jaw and stepped forward.
"I need to see him. It is important."
"Nothing about you is important."
I tried to step past him. His arm came out like a steel bar across my chest and the tray flew from my hands. The plates shattered on the marble floor. Food scattered everywhere. The wine glass broke into a dozen red-stained pieces at my feet.
"Dorian!"
He didn't flinch. Didn't blink.
I was on my knees trying to gather the broken pieces when the door behind him opened.
Lucien stood there. Shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Eyes sharp. Annoyed.
"What is going on out here?"
"Your wife was making a scene," Dorian said flatly. "I handled it."
Lucien's gaze dropped to me on the floor. Surrounded by broken glass and ruined food and every ounce of hope I had carried for the past three hours.
He grabbed my arm and pulled me down the corridor. Away from the door. Away from Dorian. Away from whoever else was watching.
"What are you doing, Zirah? You know I don't want you near the west wing during pack business."
"I know. I know, but I had to tell you something. It couldn't wait."
His jaw tightened. "You have thirty seconds."
I grabbed his hand and pressed it flat against my stomach. I looked up into his eyes and searched for the man I had married. The one who had carried me over the threshold two years ago while the pack howled outside.
"I'm pregnant, Lucien. I'm carrying your pup."
The silence that followed was deafening.
His hand didn't move.
His expression didn't soften.
Instead, something dark crossed his face. Something I had never seen before.
And when he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet it barely existed.
"Whose is it?"
- Writer
