Chapter 9

“After all, it’s my first time carrying a pup,” she said sweetly, stroking her still-flat belly with an exaggerated tenderness meant to draw every eye.

“My mate didn’t want pups yet—said it would ruin my form. I’m still deciding whether to keep it.” Her sigh floated like perfume, soft and poisonous.

Kael’s golden wolf eyes grew huge. “Sorenna, I want a baby sister to play with!” he blurted, tail swishing in excitement.

Sorenna laughed behind her hand, demure and wicked all at once. “Then you must guard her well when she’s born. Don’t be certain… unworthy females torment her.”

She glanced sideways at Freya, letting the implication drip like venom.

Kael nodded earnestly, oblivious, but Freya felt the barb sink straight into her bones. A slow chill crept into her voice. “Luna Freya isn’t well. You should take your leave now.”

Sorenna’s perfect face blanched, then flushed in blotches of red. She bit her lip—an act of wounded innocence—then spun sharply on her heel and swept out.

The chamber softened after her departure. Riven entered carrying bowls of warm moonroot broth and freshly washed spirit-berries.

“She’s careless by nature,” he said lightly as he set the food down. “Speaks before she thinks. Don’t take it to heart.”

When he reached to smooth a loose strand of hair from Freya’s forehead, she flinched back. Just barely—but enough.

“I’m sweaty… I feel unpleasant,” she murmured, refusing to meet his eyes.

Riven stilled, startled, then his expression gentled. He took her cool hands in both of his.

“How could you ever be unpleasant? You always carry the scent of my moon-mate.” His thumb brushed her knuckles. “I could never despise you.”

He lifted her hand and kissed it softly.

Kael squealed, covering his eyes dramatically. “Ewww, so mushy!”

But he wriggled closer, looping his arms around Freya’s arm. “Then I’ll keep Mommy warm too!”

Outside the glass wall, passing pack members slowed, catching a glimpse of what looked like a perfect Alpha family—the strong Alpha, the gentle Luna, their bright cub.

Eyes shimmered with envy.

But the illusion cracked the moment Riven’s crystal comms chimed.

He glanced at it. Freya caught a flicker of the contact name before the screen dimmed, “My Darling.”

A tiny, sharp silence fell.

Riven rose abruptly, smoothing his expression into something neutral. “Freya, the council summoned me.” His voice was practiced, steady. “I’ll bring back your favorite lunar pastries.”

He ruffled Kael’s hair. “Be a strong little wolf. Protect Mommy.”

“I want to go with Daddy!” Kael whined, reaching for him.

Riven hesitated, torn for a breath. “Maybe I should bring him—”

“Go,” Freya interrupted, calm and deceptively steady. “Take him. It’ll be easier for me.”

Riven blinked, surprised, but didn’t push. He lifted Kael into his arms and headed for the door. Just before stepping out, he paused, glancing back.

The dusk-light seeped through the enchanted windows, washing Freya in muted silver. She looked fragile. Drained. Almost fading.

And she didn’t look at him—not once. Her gaze stayed fixed on the barren horizon beyond the Corvath Pack’s borders, as though she were bracing herself against something only she could see.

Hours passed.

No council summons came. No report. No pastries.

Instead, a crystal comms chimed beside her bed.

A message from Sorenna.

The screen flickered to life—revealing Kael in a lavish den, crumbs smeared across his cheeks as he laughed and played with shiny toys clearly not his.

Behind him, Sorenna lounged with a satisfied gleam in her eyes.

“I love Sorenna the most!” Kael chirped, giggling.

The video ended.

An audio file began.

A man’s voice—husky, low, breathless with desire—echoed through the quiet chamber.

“What’s wrong? Didn’t you say I could do anything I wanted? Regretting it now?”

Wet, heated sounds followed—lips meeting, breaths tangling, the unmistakable rhythm of bodies pressed together.