Chapter 1

Emilia's POV

The corridor seemed colder than normal, as if the walls themselves sensed something about to shatter.

My movements were light and cautious, like perhaps if I walked slowly enough, I might flee the reality I already knew deep down. I persisted, though. I persevered despite the images of Alphas before him, the windows overlooking the frost-tipped forest, and the reminders of my potential.

Luna; his Luna.

Reaching for the brass handle, my hand shook. The door closing behind me sounded like a warning bell—softly.

Later on, too late.

Under Nikolas's door, the light was warm. Attaching.

Inverted.

He had not returned to the pack gathering. Not even me—no one was surprised. Lately, he paid no attention to anything unrelated to her.

Ivana.

My tongue tasted poison in the name. She hoped we would miss her but returned like a storm we all knew was approaching. And now she was wandering these hallways as if she still belonged. She presented herself as if she had never left him.

And possibly she never really did.

I had attempted to hang on. I had smiled despite my wounded pride. Said kind words with a broken voice. I've stayed. Even in cases where he neglected to ask me. Even when I thought I was acting in an empty room for someone else.

I did all to win his love.

But someone who handed it away a long time ago cannot win love.

Right now I am carrying his child. Even that seemed like an unfortunate turn of events.

She laughed from behind the door. Sweet is the outcome. soften. Intensive.

My heart grabbed.

Then he laughed. He didn't give me the public, cold, clipped chuckle he usually did. This one had no guard action. moderate.

Knowable.

It wasn't mine.

I let out a quick breath. I held my palm up to the door.

Leave, Emilia.

Such behavior is not something you have to witness.

Nevertheless, I did. I must have.

I opened the door a few inches—just enough to pass the sliver.

Sitting on the couch with her, Nikolas had his body slanted toward her like magnets. His arm was draped casually, fingertips touching her shoulder.

His smile caused my gut to turn over.

He never grinned like that for me.

Ivana reached for a tray from the table. Her fingertips brushed his, and she laughed—as if they had some unspoken memory. I never ventured into that private world.

My breath seized, and my view distorted. I blinked rapidly. Not right now. Not directly in front of him.

My hands turned white around the doorknob.

I got in.

The cosiness of the room is gone.

Nikolas raised his head, the lazy smile vanishing as though it had never existed.

"What do you want?" he asked. Cold. frustrated. I felt as though I had disrupted something sacred.

I sucked, but my throat hurt.

"I am pregnant."

Silent.

Thick, heavy, crippling.

He moved nothing.

Not spoken.

Neither breathed at all.

Ivana stood slowly, gently laying the tray down with outstanding grace. She never turned away from me. She tilted her head, cool and deliberate. With that glance, I understood everything.

She recognized me.

She whispered gently, "I should go," laying a hand on her tummy.

Hold.

My eyes closed.

I am not a number.

There is nothing, nothing, nothing.

She takes great care when touching her stomach. Her movement is with exquisite care.

She was...?

From her grasp, the tray slid.

Crack.

The sound tore across the hall. Broken porcelain covered the hardwood floor. One clean shard cut across my leg.

I started to gasp and staggered back.

Warm on my flesh, blood flowed from the incision. He gasped in agony and reached down—

"Are you okay??" Nikolas inquired, but he was already close by, low, hands gliding over her arms, examining her face and stomach.

It wasn't me, either.

Not even a quick peek will suffice.

My legs started to shake. The sensation of blood stinging down my shin was no longer bothersome. The pain was insignificant compared to the way my heart shattered within my chest.

Ivana raised her flawless mask of innocence toward me, but her eyes glittered with something deeper.

Already, you have lost.

The words went unheard. Still, I sensed them just the same.

I was not visible.

At last Nikolas stood and fixed me like I was a mess he had to tidy up.

“This is not how a Luna behaves.”

Blinking, I looked at

The words dug farther than the glass.

I said softly, "I did nothing."

He showed no concern.

"I will never forgive you if she suffers or if anything happens to her."

The floor tilted under me. My heart hammered so loudly I felt it might explode.

My mouth opened, but no words came.

His defensiveness.

His voice was gentle.

The way he kept her safe was truly remarkable.

It never spoke to me.

"Is she...?" I was unable to complete the task.

His silence said enough.

Over me poured a fresh wave of sickness. My legs wavered.

He went back for her once more. His whole universe contracted to Ivana.

And I.

I was absent.

Straightening my spine was something I forced myself to do. Though I stammered, I pushed the words out.

You once vowed I was your future. You vowed that you would never turn back.

I lied.

The simplicity of it broke me more than a thousand nasty remarks.

"I'm sorry, Emilia," he responded, as if I were some anonymous pack member asking permission. But right now, this is how things are.

I cast a glance between them. She placed her hand on his chest. His body slanted defensively toward her.

I could not paint myself into that picture.

My hands closed into fists, nails biting into my palms. I knew this as I watched the blood pour down my leg.

He was not interested.

He showed no interest even as I was carrying his child.

I provided him with everything I could. I sacrificed everything for him. Now, none of it really counted.

I would not, however, provide him the gratification of seeing me break.

You'll regret this, Nikolas, I murmured softly, my voice hard under the anguish.

He answered no.

I did not dispute it.

She didn't even flail.

Turning, I headed out with the door creaking closed behind me.

Every stride felt as though it were across fire. But I raised my head proudly. I had only left dignity, and I would die before I let him steal that too.

I did not cry.

The situation is not quite right yet.

My heart, though, was a battlefield.

From this point on, I also knew—

I was not defending him anymore.

I was standing up for myself.

I am writing this for the youngster within me.

Why did Nikolas decide to wipe us out?

After that, I would start from the very beginning.

And I would never allow him to forget what he disposed of.