Chapter 3

After Drake finished speaking, he led Naeryn and Fiora upstairs without once looking back at her. The warmth of the lodge felt meaningless, the rain still clung to her hair.

Thalia moved through the motions of a hurried shower and crawled into bed, heavy with exhaustion and the ache in her belly.

How long she slept she could not tell. When she woke, her throat felt raw, as if she had been screaming into the wind. She called Drake’s name a few times, but the only answer was the muffled cadence of a story drifting through the wall.

“Fiora is so much like you,” Naeryn’s voice chimed, bright and proud. “Even when she’s upset, she copies you and tries to comfort me.”

“Of course,” Drake replied, the pride in his tone unmistakable. “I raised her right. She’ll look after you when I’m gone.”

The image of Naeryn’s smile was vivid even through plaster and timber.

Thalia listened as Drake patted Fiora’s small back. “Alright, get some sleep. I’ll tell you both a bedtime tale.”

A few moments later his measured voice floated through the partition. “In a distant valley, there lived an Alpha and a Luna…”

Staring up at the plain, white ceiling, Thalia could only offer a bitter smile.

Three years of their bond and Drake and Naeryn shared the easy intimacy of a true pair—and the pup they tucked in together belonged to them in every way that mattered.

She tried to sit up for water and knocked a framed portrait from the bedside. The glass shattered and the photograph of her and Drake skittered across the floor, scuffed and misaligned.

She rose despite the dizziness, barefoot into the dark and stepped on shards.

Pain lanced across her foot as she reached for the switch, swept the mess and poured herself a drink.

All the while, the story from the next room continued on—soft, steady, another life being described for a pup who was not hers.

Bandaged and back beneath the covers, a memory stabbed through her: a time when Drake had cancelled council duties to infirmary attendants a fever she’d barely had.

“Don’t worry,” he had murmured then, “I’ll stay with you. I ache worse than you do.”

That gentleness felt like a relic now. Tonight, he had handed the ginger broth to Naeryn.

Tears tracked silently down Thalia’s face as dawn pinked the sky.

Laughter from below roused her the next morning. She opened the door and found Naeryn and Drake’s mother in the parlor, whispering and smiling.

When Naeryn spotted her, a smug expression crossed her face.

“Aunt Rabiya,” she cooed to the elder woman. “Don’t worry. Drake only allows us to stay for a few days because of Fiora’s heart. Once the pack medic tends to her, we’ll leave. Besides, Thalia might grow overemotional.”

Rabiya Valecrown held Fiora with a practiced air of adoration.

“Why would she be upset?” then she said coolly, “They’ve been mated three years without pups. Our little Fiora is perfect. Call me Grandmother.”

Fiora peered up and chimed, “Grandmother.”

Rabiya’s face brightened. She patted Naeryn’s hand.

“Naeryn, one daughter isn’t enough. When you bear a son, I’ll make sure Drake will make you as his Luna.”

Thalia’s stomach turned. She moved toward the doorway, but Rabiya’s voice snapped like a whip, “Stop right there!”

Two attendants—pack attendants, accustomed to carrying orders as easily as trays—materialized and seized Thalia’s wrists, not allowing her to step forward.

“You’ve grown insolent,” Rabiya declared with theatrical disdain. “You do not even come downstairs to serve me tea. Bring her here.”

They hauled Thalia to the landing.

She fought, but their grips were iron.

Rabiya, face alight with superiority, directed them with a delicate cruelty. “Make me a cup of tea—ninety-nine degrees. Do not fail.”

Thalia stood, jaw clenched and pretended not to hear.

Naeryn’s voice slid forward like honey. “Auntie, please. Let me handle this. I’m used to doing heavy work like that.”

Rabiya placed her hand in Naeryn’s, indulgent. “You are the future Luna. How could you stoop to chores? Let her do it.”

Thalia watched the tableau as if seeing herself from a distance—the way Naeryn tried to step away, then froze under Thalia’s stare. Annoyance creased Naeryn’s features.

“What use is she here? She cannot bear pups and now she won’t even serve tea. Lock her away. I do not want to see her about the lodge.”

Two attendants tightened their hold to take her away.

At that moment Drake emerged from the study, frowning. “Mother, that’s enough.”