He Rejected Me, Then Claimed Our Son

Chapter Ten In the Arms of the Man I Hated

I dreamed of the night Cassian first touched me. Not the night he rejected me.

Not the night he held me while blood soaked my white gown and our son tried to come too early. Before all of that.

Before Valeria’s lies.

Before Luna Mireya’s cold eyes.

Before love became something I had to survive.

I dreamed of the orchard behind Nightfall Pack’s eastern gardens, where moonberries grew in heavy blue clusters along the stone wall. I had been seventeen then, newly arrived at the pack house, too shy to speak unless spoken to and too proud to let anyone see how lonely I was.

Cassian had found me there after a feast.

I had been hiding from the music, from the laughter, from the she-wolves who whispered that my scent was too faint and my wolf too quiet for anyone important to ever want me.

He had stepped into the moonlight wearing black, as always, with his hands in his pockets and amusement in his golden eyes.

“You know,” he had said, “most people hide behind curtains. Not thorn bushes.” I had startled so badly my shoulder caught on the thorns.

A bead of blood rose on my skin. Cassian’s smile vanished.

He crossed the orchard in three strides, took my wrist gently, and turned my arm toward the moonlight.

“It is nothing,” I had whispered.

His thumb brushed near the tiny wound. Not over it.

Near it. Careful. Reverent.

“It is blood,” he said. “It is never nothing.” My heart had stumbled then.

I remembered that clearly, even in the dream.

The future Alpha of Nightfall had stood beneath the moon and looked at one drop of my blood as if it mattered.

As if I mattered.

“Does everything have to sound intense when you say it?” I had asked, surprising myself. His mouth curved.

“Only when I am trying to impress a pretty girl hiding in my orchard.” Heat had rushed to my cheeks.

“I am not hiding.” “No?”

“No.”

“Then what are you doing?”

I had looked toward the pack house, where music spilled through open doors and wolves danced in bright clothes under lantern light.

“Resting from being noticed.” Cassian’s expression had changed. Softened.

He had looked at me then the way no one had ever looked at me before. Not as the quiet orphan. Not as the soft-blooded girl with no rank. Not as a future obligation or someone to be pitied.

As if he saw me. Really saw me.

“Then I will not notice you too loudly,” he had said. I had laughed.

He had smiled like my laugh was a gift. The dream shifted.

We were older.

His hand on my waist in a dark hallway. My back against cold stone.

His mouth close to my ear.

“Tell me to stop,” he had whispered. I had not.

I remembered his restraint more than his hunger. The way his fingers tightened but did not take. The way his wolf growled under his skin, wanting, demanding, but Cassian waited for my yes like it was law.

Once, he had made me feel powerful because he wanted me and still chose to be gentle. Once, he had loved me like my softness was sacred.

The dream darkened.

The hallway became the great hall. The moon chandelier.

The crowd. Valeria’s red mouth.

Cassian’s cold eyes.

“I reject you, Nyra Elowen.” The bond screamed.

My hands flew to my stomach.

The dream-Cassian stepped closer, his face blank and beautiful and cruel. “The child is not mine.”

“No,” I whispered.

But the hall was gone.

I was in the chapel again.

Silver light burned beneath my feet. Lior cried against my chest. Cassian was on one knee before us, his head bowed beneath our son’s impossible power.

Then he caught me. Warm arms.

Blood. Cedarwood. Rain.

Alpha.

“I have you,” he whispered. No.

I woke with that word trapped behind my teeth. No.

The first thing I felt was warmth. Too much of it.

A heavy blanket covered my body. Soft pillows cradled my head. Clean linen brushed my skin. Something herbal and bitter sat on my tongue. My whole body ached, but the feverish trembling had eased. My ankle was bandaged. My shoulder was wrapped. My lower body throbbed with deep soreness, but the bleeding had slowed.

The second thing I felt was emptiness. My arms were empty.

Lior.

Panic tore through me. I shot upright.

Pain exploded through my body, but I barely felt it.

“Lior!”

A hand caught my shoulder. “Easy.”

Cassian.

I jerked away so violently I nearly fell from the bed. He released me at once.

The room tilted. I grabbed the edge of the mattress, breathing hard.

We were in a chamber I did not recognize. Stone walls, high narrow windows, pale curtains, a fire burning low in the hearth. Not Elsa’s house. Not the chapel infirmary. Not Nightfall’s pack house.

A sanctuary room. Maybe.

My eyes found Cassian.

He sat in a chair beside the bed, shirtless beneath fresh bandages wrapped around his ribs and shoulder. His face was pale from blood loss, his hair still damp, his jaw shadowed. Someone had cleaned the blood from his skin, but not from the cracks inside him. Those showed everywhere.

In his eyes most of all. He looked exhausted. He looked haunted.

He looked relieved that I was awake. I hated him for that relief.

“Where is my son?” I demanded.

His expression tightened at the word my.

“In the next room with Father Iren and Mara. He is safe.” My heart hammered.

“Bring him to me.”

He stood immediately, then swayed.

I saw the pain flash across his face before he hid it. My stupid body reacted.

I gripped the blanket to stop myself from reaching for him. “I will get him,” he said.

“No.”

He froze.

“You will not touch him.”

The words landed between us like a blade. Cassian’s face went still.

Then he nodded once. “As you wish.”

As you wish. No argument.

No Alpha command. No injured pride.

It made my anger stumble, and I hated that too. He moved toward the door.

“Send Mara,” I said. He stopped again.

For half a second, I thought he would protest. He did not.

He opened the door and spoke quietly to someone outside. “Mara. Nyra is awake. She wants Lior.”

A few muffled voices answered.

Cassian stepped back inside but stayed near the door, as far from me as the small chamber allowed.

He looked too large in that room. Too familiar.

Too dangerous.

I pulled the blanket higher over my chest, suddenly aware that I was wearing a clean white nightdress. Someone had bathed me. Changed me. Tended to wounds I did not remember allowing anyone to touch.

My stomach twisted. “Who undressed me?”

Cassian’s eyes darkened with immediate understanding. “Not me.”

The answer came fast. Firm.

“Mara and an old midwife from the sanctuary. I waited outside.” I looked at him, searching for a lie.

I felt nothing foul in the words. Only truth.

That frightened me.

My new senses, if that was what they were, felt like a room inside me where a locked window had been opened. I did not know how to close it. I did not know what might come through.

Cassian seemed to see the confusion on my face.

“I would not touch you without permission,” he said quietly. A bitter laugh escaped me.

“You rejected me without permission.” Pain struck his expression.

“I know.”

“You humiliated me without permission.” His jaw tightened.

“I know.”

“You denied our child without permission.” His eyes closed.

This time, when he answered, his voice broke. “I know.”

For a moment, silence filled the room. Not peaceful silence.

A grieving thing.

I looked away first.

Because if I kept staring at the wound in him, I might forget mine was deeper. The door opened.

Mara entered carrying Lior.

My whole body went toward him.

She crossed the room quickly and placed him in my arms.

The moment his weight settled against me, the panic inside my chest loosened. “Oh, baby,” I whispered.

Lior rooted against my skin, making soft hungry sounds. He was wrapped in a clean pale-blue blanket, his tiny face relaxed, his dark curls dry now. His eyes were closed, thank the moon.

I pressed my lips to his forehead. Milk, warmth, and life.

Mine.

Mara stood beside the bed with her arms folded.

“You scared everyone.”

“I am developing a habit.” “A bad one.”

“Where are we?”

“Sanctuary house west of Briar Glen.”

I looked around. “This is the safe place for things packs want buried?” Mara’s mouth twitched.

“One of them.”

“How did we get here?” “Messily.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It is the accurate answer.” Her gaze flicked to Cassian. “Your Alpha carried you most of the way while bleeding through his bandages and refusing to give you to anyone else.”

“He is not my Alpha.” Cassian flinched.

Mara tilted her head. “Noted.” I looked at Cassian.

“You carried me?”

His face was unreadable. “You were unconscious.” “That was not permission.” His throat moved.

“I know.”

There it was again. I know.

Two words that should have meant nothing.

But from Cassian Veyr, who had once believed power meant deciding for everyone, they meant too much.

I looked down at Lior before my expression betrayed me.

He was fussing now, his mouth searching. I shifted the blanket, ready to feed him, then paused because Cassian was still in the room.

“Leave,” I said.

He turned immediately. Mara raised her eyebrows.

Cassian reached the door before I spoke again. “Not far.”

He stopped.

My face heated.

The words had escaped before pride could catch them. Cassian looked back slowly.

Our eyes met. The air changed.

Not dramatically. Not with moonfire or silver light. With memory.

Too many nights. Too many touches. Too much longing buried beneath grief. His gaze dropped for the briefest second to Lior, then returned to my face.

“I will be outside the door,” he said. His voice was low.

Careful.

Like he knew every word could cut if he held it wrong.

Then he left.

The door clicked shut. Mara stared at me. “What?”

She shrugged. “Nothing.” “That was not nothing.”

“It was a very loud nothing.” I glared.

She lifted both hands. “Feed the baby. I will be over here, minding my own business badly.” Despite myself, a tired smile touched my lips.

I adjusted my nightdress and guided Lior to my breast. He latched quickly, greedy and strong. Relief moved through me as he nursed.

For a few moments, the world narrowed to him. His small sounds.

His warm cheek.

His hand flexing against my skin.

Mara moved to the window and glanced through the curtain.

“Briar Glen is sealed until the next full moon,” she said. “Father Iren says the moon gate responded stronger than expected.”

“Because of Lior?”

Her gaze flicked to me. “And you.”

“No.”

“Nyra.”

“No.” My voice sharpened enough that Lior paused, then resumed nursing. I lowered my tone. “I do not want that.”

“Power rarely asks if it is wanted.” “I just want my son safe.”

“That may require power.”

The truth of it sat heavily between us. I hated it.

“What happened after I collapsed?” I asked. Mara leaned against the wall.

“Cassian caught you. Nearly reopened his wound doing it. Father Iren ordered us through the eastern stair. The cursed wolves outside could not cross the seal, but the ones already in the chapel had to be killed.”

My stomach tightened. “Valeria?”

“Alive.”

My head snapped up.

Mara grimaced. “Not my favorite news either.” “Why?”

“Because Cassian stopped one of his warriors from tearing her throat out.” Of course he did.

Pain flashed hot and stupid through my chest. Mara noticed.

“Not to save her,” she said. “To question her.” I looked away.

“It does not matter.” “Liar.”

My gaze snapped back.

Mara looked unimpressed. “You have the face of someone who very much thinks it matters.” “I do not care what he does with Valeria.”

“Then your eyes are doing independent theater.” I almost laughed.

Then did not.

Because the thought of Cassian standing near Valeria, touching her chains, listening to her soft poisoned voice, made something ugly move in my chest.

Jealousy. No.

Not jealousy. Rage.

She had tried to kill him. She had tried to take Lior. She had ruined my life.

If Cassian let her live, it should only be long enough for truth to peel her apart. “Where is she now?” I asked.

“In the lower holding room with two Nightfall warriors and one sanctuary guard.” “And Luna Mireya?”

Mara’s expression darkened. “With Father Iren. Talking.” “Talking sounds too gentle.” “I agree.”

Lior’s tiny fingers curled against me.

I brushed my thumb over his knuckles. “What did Valeria mean?” I whispered.

Mara went still.

“The old blood does not belong to fathers,” I said. “It devours them.” Mara’s humor vanished.

“I do not know.”

“But you have heard something.” “I have heard rumors.”

“Tell me.”

She hesitated. “Mara.”

She sighed. “Old stories say children of the Moon-Blessed line inherit power from the mother’s blood. Fathers outside the line can strengthen the child physically, but they cannot control the old magic. Some Alphas feared that. They wanted Moon-Blessed women as mates because their children were powerful, but when the children were born, the fathers discovered power did not answer to them.”

“So they killed the mothers?” “Sometimes.”

“And the children?” “Sometimes.”

My arms tightened around Lior. Mara’s voice softened.

“That is why people hid them.” I looked down at my son.

His eyes remained closed, but beneath his lids, silver light flickered like a dream. “He is just a baby.”

“Yes.”

“Everyone keeps talking like he is a weapon.”

“That is because frightened people confuse power with threat.” I kissed his forehead.

“He will not be their weapon.”

“No,” Mara said. “Not if you remain this terrifying.” I let out a shaky breath.

A knock came at the door. Not hard.

Not demanding. One soft tap.

Then Cassian’s voice. “Nyra.”

My body reacted before I could stop it. Mara’s eyebrows rose.

“Independent theater,” she murmured. “Be quiet.”

Cassian spoke again from the other side.

“Father Iren asks if he may come in. He has news.” I adjusted Lior’s blanket and covered myself. “Come in.”

The door opened.

Father Iren entered first, moving slowly with one arm in a sling and bruises darkening his face. Behind him came Cassian.

And behind Cassian came Luna Mireya. The room turned cold.

My wolf snarled instantly.

Lior stopped nursing.

Cassian stepped slightly sideways, placing himself between his mother and the bed. Mireya noticed.

Her pale eyes narrowed. “Still dramatic, Cassian?”

His voice was flat. “Still alive, Mother?” Her mouth tightened.

Father Iren cleared his throat. “Perhaps we can all avoid murder until after breakfast.” Mara muttered, “Cowardly suggestion.”

I could not take my eyes off Mireya.

She looked as elegant as ever despite everything. Her silver hair was pinned perfectly. Her black gown had no visible stain. Her posture remained straight, her face composed.

But there was something different now. The faintest c***k in her certainty.

She looked at Lior as though he was not a baby, but a prophecy she had hoped would never breathe.

“Get her out,” I said. Cassian did not hesitate. “Mother, leave.”

Mireya’s eyes flashed.

“I have information she needs.” “I do not care.”

“You will if you want the child to survive.” The room went still.

Cassian’s shoulders tightened.

Mara’s hand moved toward her knife. Father Iren looked suddenly old.

I forced my voice steady. “Speak.”

Cassian turned his head slightly. “Nyra—” “I said speak.”

Mireya looked at me then. Fully.

For years, she had looked through me. Around me. Past me. As if I were an unfortunate softness Cassian would one day outgrow.

Now she looked at me like an enemy. Perhaps I preferred that.

“At dawn,” she said, “a message reached Nightfall from the northern packs.” I waited.

Her mouth tightened.

“They know about the child’s eyes.” A chill moved through me.

“That is impossible,” Cassian said. Mireya’s gaze stayed on me.

“Impossible things are multiplying quickly.”

Father Iren stepped forward. “Who sent the message?” “No signature. Only a warning.”

“What warning?” I asked. Mireya’s voice lowered.

“The old moon heir has been born. Bring him to the Blood Council before the next full moon, or every pack sheltering him will be considered an enemy of wolf law.”

Lior’s fingers tightened painfully against my skin. Cassian’s eyes turned gold.

“No one takes him.”

For once, I agreed with him. Mireya smiled without warmth.

“That conviction would have been more useful last night.” The words struck like a whip.

Cassian went still. So did I.

Because I hated that she was right.

Cassian’s face became unreadable, but the pain in his eyes gave him away. “I know,” he said.

Mireya looked almost satisfied. I wanted to slap her.

Not for him. For me.

For the part of me that should have been the one to say it. “Do not use my pain to sharpen your tongue,” I said.

Her gaze snapped to mine. The oil lamps flickered silver.

Mara whispered, “Oh, I like this.” Mireya’s face hardened.

“You know nothing about the danger you carry.”

“I know he is my son.” “He is more than that.” “Not to me.”

“That ignorance will kill you both.” Cassian growled. “Enough.”

But I lifted a hand.

“No. Let her speak. I want to hear how everyone else’s fear became my responsibility.” Mireya stared at me.

Something like surprise passed over her face.

Maybe she had expected the old Nyra. The quiet one. The grateful one. The girl who lowered her eyes and swallowed hurt because peace mattered more than pride.

That girl had drowned in the river.

This one held her son and stared back. Mireya’s voice turned colder.

“The Blood Council will come. Valeria’s family will deny involvement. The northern packs will demand the child be tested. If he is confirmed as Moon-Blessed, they will either crown him, cage him, or kill him.”

The words wrapped around my throat. Crown him.

Cage him. Kill him.

Cassian moved closer to the bed, his body tense with violence. “No council touches him.”

Mireya looked at her son. “You cannot fight every pack.” His smile was terrible.

“Watch me.”

A dangerous silence followed. For half a breath, I saw it.

The Alpha he was.

Not the man who broke me. Not the lover I had lost.

The ruler.

The black wolf.

The one every pack feared because when Cassian Veyr chose war, he did not stop at victory. He made examples.

My body remembered that power. Not fearfully.

Not entirely.

Heat moved low in my stomach, sudden and unwelcome. I hated it.

I had just given birth. I was exhausted, wounded, furious. And still, hearing him threaten the world for our son did something to me.

Something I wanted dead. Mara’s gaze flicked to my face. I glared before she could speak. She wisely looked away.

Father Iren cleared his throat. “There is another issue.”

I closed my eyes briefly. “Of course there is.”

He looked apologetic. “The seal around Briar Glen will hold cursed wolves, but not lawful envoys. If the Blood Council sends representatives, they can enter.”

“Then we leave before they arrive,” Cassian said. “No,” I said.

He turned to me.

“I am not running blindly again,” I said. “Every tunnel leads to another monster. Every safe place becomes a cage. I need answers.”

Mireya arched one brow. “Answers will not save you.” “Maybe not. But ignorance has nearly killed me five times.” Father Iren nodded slowly.

“What do you want to know?” I looked at Mireya.

“Why did you hate me?”

The question changed the room. Cassian’s face tightened.

Mara went very still. Father Iren looked away. Mireya did not flinch.

For a moment, she looked almost bored. “I did not hate you.”

“Do not lie to me.”

The silver lamps flared. Mireya’s eyes widened slightly. I felt it then.

That ugly curl in the air.

Lie.

She had lied.

And we both knew I knew. Cassian noticed too.

His gaze sharpened.

Mireya looked from the lamps to me.

Then something unreadable crossed her face. “Truth-sense,” she murmured.

I hated how everyone knew my power before I did. Cassian stepped closer.

“Answer her.”

Mireya’s mouth twisted.

“Because I knew what she was before any of you did.” My heart stopped.

Cassian’s voice was deadly soft. “You knew?”

“I suspected.”

“You knew Nyra was Moon-Blessed?” “I knew Saira Elowen.”

The room seemed to tilt.

My mother’s name sat between us like a ghost.

Mireya continued, “And I knew Saira would never leave an ordinary daughter behind.” My throat went dry.

“You knew my mother?”

Mireya looked at me.

This time, there was no satisfaction in her face. Only something older.

More bitter. “Yes.”

“How?”

For the first time, Luna Mireya Veyr looked away. “She saved my life.”

Silence.

Even Cassian stared at her.

Mireya’s jaw tightened as if the confession tasted foul.

“During the last purge of the Moon-Blessed, I was young, foolish, and newly mated to Cassian’s father. I was taken by hunters who believed the Veyr line had sheltered Moon-Blessed women. They planned to carve the truth from me.”

Her voice remained steady, but the room had changed around it. “They would have succeeded. Saira found me first.”

My pulse pounded. “What happened?”

“She killed seven men and carried me across the river on her back.” The image stunned me.

My mother. Killing.

Saving the woman who would one day help destroy her daughter. Mireya’s eyes returned to mine.

“She was power wrapped in mercy. The most dangerous kind of woman.”

My voice shook. “Then why would you hurt her child?” “Because power wrapped in mercy still brings war.” Lie? No.

Not lie. Fear. Twisted. Hard.

Real.

Cassian looked sick.

“You knew Nyra might be like her and you still let me reject her.” Mireya’s face hardened again.

“I encouraged you to reject her because if the Blood Council discovered what she was while she stood beside you as Luna, Nightfall would burn.”

Cassian’s voice was low. “So you chose to burn her instead.” Mireya said nothing.

That silence was confession enough. My vision blurred.

Not with weakness this time. With rage.

“You could have told me.”

“You were sealed. Telling you too early could have awakened you.” “And that was worse than what happened?”

Mireya’s gaze dropped to Lior. “Yes.”

The lamps flared so bright that everyone flinched.

Lior’s eyes opened. Silver.

Mireya took one step back. Good.

I wanted her afraid.

Cassian moved near the bed, but did not touch me. “Nyra,” he said softly.

“Do not gentle me right now.” He went quiet.

Mireya straightened, but her eyes remained on Lior. “The child changes everything.”

“He has a name,” I snapped. She blinked.

For the first time, she looked uncertain. “What?”

“His name is Lior.” Mireya’s face went pale.

Father Iren inhaled sharply.

Mara looked between them. “I feel like everyone else knew that was dramatic except me.” Cassian’s voice was quiet.

“You named him Lior?” I looked at him.

His expression was not angry. It was wounded.

I remembered, painfully, that we had never agreed on names. That he had wanted strong old Veyr names. That I had wanted something with light.

“He named himself,” I said. Cassian’s brows drew together.

Father Iren whispered, “Of course he did.” I turned to him. “What does that mean?” He looked at Mireya.

She looked away.

Cassian’s patience snapped.

“Enough secrets. What does the name mean?” Father Iren answered.

“In the oldest moon tongue, Lior means light. But in Moon-Blessed prophecy, Lior is not only a name.”

Dread slid through me. “What is it?”

Father Iren’s eyes met mine. “A title.”

The room went silent. His voice lowered.

“The Lior is the child born after the sleeping daughter wakes. The one who carries enough moonfire to either heal the wolf nations…”

He looked at my son. “Or end them.”

A cold wind moved through the closed room. Lior stared up at us with silver eyes.

Then, from somewhere beneath the sanctuary, a bell rang.

Once. Deep. Wrong.

Father Iren went pale. Mara grabbed her knife.

Cassian turned toward the door. “What is that?” I whispered.

No one answered quickly enough. The bell rang again.

Mireya’s face hardened with fear. Father Iren finally spoke.

“The lower holding room.” My blood chilled.

Valeria.

A shout rose from beyond the door. Then another.

Cassian was already moving.

The door burst open before he reached it.

A sanctuary guard stumbled inside, one hand pressed to his bleeding throat. “She is gone,” he gasped.

Cassian’s eyes turned gold. The guard looked at me.

No.

Not at me.

At Lior.

“She said to tell the mother…” Blood spilled over his lips.

I held my breath.

The guard’s voice broke.

“…the next time she sees her son, he will be kneeling at the Blood Council.” Then his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.

The room exploded into motion. But I did not move.

I looked down at my son.

His silver eyes were glowing brighter now. Not with fear.

With anger.

And somewhere far away, beyond the sealed town, beyond the sanctuary walls, Valeria Nocturne had just declared war on my child.