Morning arrived quietly, almost deceptively so. The storm had washed the world clean, leaving the grounds glistening beneath a pale, fragile sun. Mist curled low across the earth, clinging to stone and grass as if reluctant to let go. From her window, the pack lands looked peaceful. Too peaceful.
She knew better now than to trust calm.
Sleep had not come easily after he left. Every time she closed her eyes, the bond stirred, restless and alert, as though it sensed the tightening circle around them. She rose before the bells, dressed with careful precision, and braided her hair back from her face. Her reflection looked composed, almost serene. Only she could feel the constant tension humming beneath her skin.
When she stepped into the corridor, guards bowed slightly as she passed. Respect had replaced suspicion. Fear had replaced curiosity. The message at the boundary had shifted the pack's perception of her overnight. She was no longer merely a guest or a complication. She was a liability. A target.
The training grounds were already alive with movement. Warriors sparred in tight pairs, their focus sharp, blows precise. She spotted him instantly. She always did.
He stood at the center, issuing instructions, his presence commanding without effort. The pack responded instinctively, adjusting formations, sharpening tactics. He looked unchanged on the surface, but she could feel the difference through the bond. A coiled intensity. A readiness that bordered on ruthless.
He sensed her before she reached the edge of the grounds. His gaze snapped to hers, and for a brief moment the world narrowed to that single connection. Something passed between them that had nothing to do with rank or duty.
He dismissed the warriors with a sharp gesture and crossed the distance toward her.
"You should not be here," he said quietly.
"Neither should secrets," she replied.
His jaw tightened. "You are surrounded by enough danger already."
"So are you," she said. "Yet here you stand."
He studied her for a long moment, then nodded once. "Walk with me."
They moved along the perimeter path, the scent of damp earth heavy in the air. Birds flitted through the trees, unaware of the tension threading the ground beneath their wings.
"They tested our eastern wards at dawn," he said. "Light probing. Not an attack."
She absorbed this in silence. "They are measuring your response."
"Yes."
"And your patience," she added.
He glanced at her. "Mine is not infinite."
"That is what worries me."
He stopped walking, turning to face her. "You think I will make a mistake."
"I think you will make the wrong kind of sacrifice," she said.
His eyes darkened. "I will not trade you for peace."
She inhaled slowly. "You might be forced to choose between the pack and something you do not yet understand."
A flicker of frustration crossed his face. "Then help me understand."
She looked away, gaze drawn to the tree line. Shadows moved there, real or imagined she could not tell. "Not yet."
The words tasted like cowardice, but fear wrapped tightly around her resolve. Once spoken, the truth could not be taken back. And once known, it would change everything.
A horn sounded from the inner grounds. Short. Urgent.
They both turned sharply. A runner approached, breathless, eyes wide.
"Alpha," the runner said. "The healer requests your presence immediately."
His attention snapped back to her. "Why?"
The runner hesitated, then answered honestly. "It concerns her."
Her heart dropped.
They moved quickly through the corridors, tension mounting with every step. The healer's chambers were heavy with the scent of herbs and burning resin. Candles flickered along the walls, casting unsteady shadows.
The healer, an older woman with sharp eyes and steady hands, looked up as they entered. Her expression was unreadable.
"You should not have summoned him," she said to the runner, then dismissed them with a wave.
He crossed his arms. "You asked for me."
"Yes," the healer said. "Because what I have found cannot be ignored any longer."
The room felt suddenly too small. She swallowed hard.
The healer turned to her. "You have been shielding yourself. Poorly, but intentionally."
Her silence was answer enough.
"You are with child," the healer said plainly.
The words landed like a thunderclap.
The bond exploded to life, raw and unrestrained. He staggered half a step back, shock ripping through him so violently she felt it echo in her bones.
"What," he said slowly, dangerously, "did you just say?"
The healer met his gaze without flinching. "She is carrying a child."
His attention snapped back to her, eyes blazing with disbelief, awe, and something close to fear. "Is it mine?"
She lifted her chin. "You already know the answer."
Silence crashed down between them. The bond surged again, no longer a quiet thread but a roaring force, recognition slamming into place with brutal clarity.
"How long," he asked.
"Long enough," she said.
The healer cleared her throat. "This is no ordinary child. The bond is already forming. Strong. Unusual."
He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing once before stopping in front of her. "You should have told me."
"I wanted to protect it," she said. "From them. From you."
His expression hardened. "From me?"
"You are powerful," she replied. "And power attracts enemies."
His voice dropped. "So does secrecy."
The healer stepped back, giving them space. "The enemy knows," she said. "Not everything, but enough. They sensed the shift weeks ago."
His eyes flashed. "Then they will not get near her."
"They are not after her," the healer corrected. "They are after what she carries."
Her hand instinctively moved to her abdomen.
The room seemed to tilt. "They cannot have it," she said.
"They will try," the healer replied.
He took her hands in his, grip firm but careful. "I will burn the world before I let them take our child."
The word our sent a tremor through her.
"This is why I waited," she whispered. "Because once you knew, you would go to war."
"Yes," he said without hesitation. "And I will win."
A shout echoed from the corridor. Then another. The sound of running feet.
The door burst open.
"Alpha," a guard said urgently. "The western boundary has been breached."
The bond flared violently, protective instinct slamming into panic.
"How many," he demanded.
"We do not know yet," the guard replied. "But they are inside the forest."
He turned to her, eyes burning with promise and fear. "You stay here."
She shook her head. "No."
"This is not a request."
"And I am not helpless," she snapped.
They stared at each other, tension cracking the air.
Another horn sounded, longer this time. A call to arms.
He exhaled sharply. "Stay with the healer. If anything happens to you…"
She placed a hand over his heart. "You will survive this."
He leaned his forehead against hers for a brief, stolen moment. The bond hummed, fierce and unyielding.
Outside, the forest roared to life.
The enemy had crossed the line.
And nothing would ever be the same again.