REJECTED AND PREGNANT: HIS RIVAL’S OBSESSION

CHAPTER 5

Sophiah's POV

Two days before the ceremony. That was all the time I had left.

I sat on the bathroom floor at 5 AM, hugging my knees to my chest while the cold tiles pressed against my bare legs. The nausea had gotten worse. Every morning now, my body rejected everything I tried to eat. I had lost weight I couldn't afford to lose, and the dark circles under my eyes were getting harder to hide.

But the baby was growing. I could feel it. Not just the sickness but something else. A warmth that lived deep inside my belly, steady and quiet like a candle flame that refused to go out no matter how hard the wind blew.

I pressed my hand against my stomach. "Just hold on a little longer," I whispered. "We're almost out of here."

Mila had come through for me. She sent me the patrol schedules for the north gate, and there was a gap. Tomorrow night between 2 AM and 4 AM, the guard rotation had a thirty minute window where only one wolf covered the entire northern perimeter. One wolf I could slip past if I moved fast enough.

Tomorrow night. That was my window.

I had already packed a small bag and hidden it under the loose floorboard beneath my bed. Three sets of clothes. The little money I had saved from odd jobs I did for the human shops near the border. A photograph of the orphan pups that Mila had taken for me last month. And the pregnancy test result folded into a tiny square at the bottom.

Everything else stayed behind. The jewelry Tyran's family gave me for the engagement. The dresses his mother picked out. The Luna pendant that hung around my neck like a collar. None of it was mine. None of it ever was.

I forced myself to get up, wash my face, and get dressed. I had to play my part for two more days. Smile. Nod. Arrange flowers. Greet guests. Be invisible. I had gotten very good at being invisible.

When I came downstairs, the packhouse was already in full chaos. The ceremony preparations had reached their peak, and every room was filled with workers, decorators, and warriors running final security checks. I moved through the madness like water through cracks, filling gaps, solving problems, keeping everything running.

No one thanked me. No one noticed. That was fine. I wasn't doing it for them anymore. I was doing it because I needed everything to look perfect so no one would suspect what I was planning.

By midday, the first round of guests started arriving. Alphas from neighboring packs with their Lunas, Betas, and warriors. Each arrival brought a new wave of tension. The Eternal Night Pack had to look strong, united, and unshakeable.

I stood at the entrance beside Tyran, greeting each guest with the practiced smile of a woman who had mastered the art of performance. Tyran stood tall and commanding, his hand occasionally resting on my lower back for show. Every touch burned, not because of the mate bond but because I knew it meant nothing.

Keira watched from across the room. She wore a deep red dress that hugged every curve, and her hair was pinned up in an elegant twist that made her look like she belonged on a throne. Pack members gravitated toward her naturally. She laughed, she charmed, she dazzled.

And every Alpha who walked through that door looked at her first, then at me, and the question in their eyes was always the same. Why isn't she the Luna?

By late afternoon, I was exhausted. My feet ached, my back throbbed, and the nausea was creeping back. I excused myself to get water from the kitchen, leaning against the counter for just a moment of peace.

That's when I felt it.

A pressure. Heavy and suffocating, like the air had been sucked out of the room and replaced with something electric. My skin prickled. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. And deep inside my chest, in a place I thought was dead and empty, something stirred.

Not the baby.

Something else. Something old. Something that had been sleeping for a very long time.

My vision blurred for a second, and a sharp pain shot through my temples. I gasped and gripped the counter harder, my knuckles going white. What was happening to me?

"Luna?" Mila appeared at my side, her small hand on my arm. "Are you okay? You look like you're about to faint."

"I'm fine," I lied. "Just tired."

But I wasn't fine. The pressure was getting stronger, pulling me toward the front of the house like an invisible hand wrapped around my ribcage. My feet started moving before my brain gave permission.

I walked out of the kitchen, through the hallway, past the crowded living room, and toward the main entrance. Pack members stepped aside as I passed, confused by the look on my face. I couldn't explain it to them because I couldn't explain it to myself.

When I reached the front door, I saw Tyran already standing outside on the steps. His body was rigid. His fists were clenched at his sides. Every warrior in the courtyard was frozen in place, their wolves surfacing behind their eyes.

A convoy of black SUVs had pulled into the courtyard. They were sleek, armored, and utterly silent. The kind of vehicles that belonged to someone who didn't need to announce their power because everyone already felt it.

The door of the center vehicle opened.

He stepped out slowly, like time meant nothing to him. Tall. Broad. Built like he was carved from stone and dressed in black from head to toe. His suit fit like a second skin, tailored to perfection. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, and when he lifted his chin, I saw his eyes.

Grey. Cold. Ancient.

They swept across the courtyard with the lazy confidence of a predator surveying territory that already belonged to him. The warriors shrank back. Even Cole, Tyran's Beta, took a half step behind his Alpha.

Claine Stone.

He was more than his reputation. His reputation was a shadow. The real thing was a storm.

I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. The pressure in my chest exploded into something violent, a pulling, tearing sensation that ripped through every nerve in my body. The sleeping thing inside me woke up completely, slamming against the walls of whatever cage had kept it locked away for twenty one years.

And then Claine Stone's eyes found mine.

The world stopped.

His expression shifted. The cold amusement vanished. The predator mask cracked. For one fraction of a second, something raw and unguarded flashed across his face. Shock. Recognition. Hunger.

He took a step toward me. Then another. His eyes never left mine, not even when Tyran stepped forward to greet him with an outstretched hand.

Claine walked right past him.

Every person in the courtyard held their breath. Tyran's hand hung in the air, ignored. His jaw clenched so hard I could hear his teeth grind from where I stood.

Claine stopped directly in front of me. Close enough that I could smell him. Pine. Smoke. Rain on cold earth. The scent hit me like a freight train, and the thing inside my chest roared so loud I was sure everyone could hear it.

He looked down at me with those impossible grey eyes, and when he spoke, his voice was low and rough, meant only for me.

"There you are."

Two words. And the ground beneath my feet cracked wide open.

Because the thing stirring inside me, the thing I thought was dead, the thing everyone told me I would never have, answered him.

My wolf.

She opened her eyes for the first time in my life, and she said one word that changed everything.

Mate.