Chapter 3
For three days, Alexander avoided me like a disease. Three days of silence stretching between us like an abyss. Three days of my hand resting protectively over my stomach, cradling the miracle that should have brought us together, not torn us apart.
I caught glimpses of him—a shadow disappearing around corners, the echo of footsteps retreating whenever I approached. At night, he returned to our bed only after I pretended to sleep, and was gone before dawn broke. Our bond, once vibrant and alive, now hung by a thread so thin I feared my breathing might snap it.
Through it all, Luna whimpered within me, her spirit weakening as she sensed the danger circling our unborn pup. *He wouldn't hurt us,* I assured her, though doubt gnawed at my conviction. *He's just shocked. He'll come around.*
On the fourth night, I could bear it no longer. The full moon hung heavy in the sky, bathing the Moonstone territory in silver light. I tracked Alexander's scent—pine and ash, now tinged with Victoria's jasmine—to the edge of the forest clearing where we had once pledged our love under the Moon Goddess's watchful eye.
He stood alone, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the moonlight, head tilted toward the stars as if seeking guidance. For a moment, I saw the man I fell in love with—vulnerable, thoughtful, mine.
"Alexander," I called softly, stepping into the clearing.
He stiffened but didn't turn. "Go back to the house, Isabella."
"No." I moved closer, my bare feet silent on the cool grass. "You can't keep avoiding me. We need to talk about the pup—our pup."
"There's nothing to discuss." His voice was flat, emotionless.
"Nothing to discuss?" Anger flared within me, hot and sudden. "I'm carrying your child! Our bond—"
"A bond you agreed to compromise when you consented to the council's decree," he cut in, finally turning to face me. His eyes, once warm like summer midnight, now glinted cold as steel.
"I consented to save you!" I cried, my voice breaking. "To save us! I never thought you would—" I couldn't finish, the words sticking in my throat like thorns.
"Would what?" he challenged, stepping toward me. "Would fulfill my duty to my pack? Would ensure my bloodline continues through a worthy vessel?"
The word 'worthy' sliced through me like a blade. "And I'm not worthy?" I whispered.
"A future Alpha cannot have rogue blood as a mother," he said, each word deliberate and cutting.
I reached for him, desperate to find any trace of the man who had once carved his own flesh rather than lose me. "Alexander, please. This is our child. Your pup. My pup. We can find a way—"
"Don't press me, Isabella." He shoved me back, not violently but with enough force to make me stumble. His Alpha aura flared suddenly, powerful and oppressive, filling the clearing with a dominance so crushing that Luna instantly cowered within me, whimpering in submission.
I fell to my knees, the weight of his authority forcing my head down in a posture of surrender that humiliated my wolf to her core. Through our fractured bond, I felt not regret but satisfaction from him—pleasure at demonstrating his power over me.
"Go back to the house," he repeated, his Alpha tone brooking no argument. "We'll discuss this tomorrow."
Tomorrow never came. Instead, as darkness fell the following evening, Alexander entered our bedchamber with measured steps. In his hands, he carried a steaming cup, its bitter aroma filling the room before he even approached the bed where I sat.
"What is that?" I asked, though Luna already knew. She was thrashing wildly within me, desperate to take control, to run, to protect our pup.
"Drink," Alexander commanded, his Alpha tone leaving no room for refusal. He extended the cup, its contents dark and murky.
"No," I whispered, pressing myself against the headboard. "Alexander, please. Don't do this."
"Drink," he repeated, his eyes hard as flint. "A future Alpha cannot have rogue blood as a mother."
When I tried to turn away, his hand shot out, gripping my jaw with bruising force. He pressed the cup to my lips, tilting it until the scalding liquid touched my tongue. Bitter. Acrid. Wolfsbane.
I struggled against his grip, but his Alpha strength overwhelmed me. The poisonous tea spilled down my throat, burning a path to my stomach where our pup grew. Luna howled in despair as the wolfsbane spread through my system, its ancient magic specifically targeting the new life within me.
"Why?" I gasped as he finally released me, the empty cup falling to the floor with a dull thud.
But Alexander didn't answer. He simply watched, his face an emotionless mask, as I collapsed onto the bed, my body convulsing as the poison did its work. Through the haze of pain, I saw not my mate but a stranger wearing his face—a man I had never known and now would never trust again.
As darkness claimed me, one thought crystallized with perfect clarity: the wounds on his back had never been for me. They had been for himself—to ease his guilt, to maintain the fiction that he was still the man I believed him to be.
The truth was far simpler and far more devastating: Alexander Blackwood had never loved me more than he loved power.
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