Three weeks pregnant. Morning sickness so bad I threw up on Darius’s boots again. He didn’t care. He just held my hair, rubbed my back, and growled “My heir is strong” like vomit was a mating gift. Mama would have killed me for wasting food. Sorry, Mama.
The call came at 6:03 AM.
Corinne kicked the bedroom door open. No knock. No Alpha permission.
“Alpha,” he said. Face white. Blood on his knuckles. “Northern border. Ironfang. They’re here.”
Darius was up. Instant. Naked. Blade in hand before his feet hit the floor. Forty two years of war didn’t leave you slow.
“How many?” he asked. Voice already Alpha.
“Two hundred.” Corin’s voice shook. Corin never shook. “Alpha Rafe is with them. He’s claiming the pup is his.”
The room froze.
Darius went still. The stillness before slaughter.
“
