Chapter 2

Seraphina POV

The iron grip of the Pack Warriors bruised my arms as they dragged me out of the Astoria Hotel. Every step was a fresh wave of agony. The severed mate-bond was a bleeding, gaping crater in my chest, making it impossible to draw a full breath.

By the time we reached the Pack House courtyard, the entire Blackwood Pack had gathered. The night air was thick with their hostility. As I was hauled across the cobblestones, the whispers grew into a deafening roar.

"Traitor."

"Rogue's whore."

The words struck me like physical blows. I searched the crowd and found Kael standing at the top of the stone steps. His cyan eyes, once my safe haven, were now glacial and empty. He watched me with the detached coldness of an executioner. Beside him, Genevieve wore a mask of false pity, though her eyes gleamed with triumphant malice. I sent one last, desperate plea to Kael through my tears, but he simply turned his back.

They threw me into the deepest cell of the Pack's dungeon. The heavy iron door slammed shut, plunging me into absolute darkness.

For three days, I rotted in that damp, freezing stone box. As a wolfless Omega, I had no inner wolf to help heal the physical bruises, and no access to the mind-link to beg for mercy. I was entirely alone with the phantom agony of Kael's rejection. It felt as though my soul was being continuously sawed in half.

No one came. Not even him.

On the second night, a violent wave of nausea hit me. I dry-heaved onto the cold stone floor, shivering uncontrollably. As I curled into a ball, pressing my hands against my stomach to soothe the cramps, I felt it. A faint, almost imperceptible flutter.

My breath hitched. The missed periods, the sudden aversions to certain smells before all this madness began... The truth slammed into me, terrifying and undeniable.

I was pregnant. Almost five weeks along.

In the suffocating darkness of the dungeon, I wrapped my arms protectively around my abdomen. This tiny, fragile life was my only remaining tether to the world. It was my secret, and my only reason to survive.

On the evening of the third day, the iron door finally groaned open. Pack Elder Elias Vance stood in the dim torchlight, his face carved from stone.

"Alpha Kael has decided to spare your life, Seraphina," Elias said, his voice echoing in the damp corridor.

A pathetic, foolish spark of hope ignited in my chest. Had he investigated? Did he realize the treaty was forged?

I was pulled to my feet and escorted up to the Alpha's Office. The heavy mahogany doors closed behind me. Kael stood with his back to me, staring out the massive floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the territory. The room was suffocatingly thick with his Alpha aura-cedar and winter wind-but it offered no warmth. He didn't even turn around.

Elias stepped forward, unrolling a heavy parchment.

"By the authority of the Alpha," Elias read, his tone entirely bureaucratic, "you, Seraphina Harmon, are found guilty of treason. You are hereby stripped of your rank and permanently banished from the Blackwood Pack. You are now a Rogue. Should you ever cross our borders again, you will be killed on sight."

He held out the Decree of Banishment. At the bottom, Kael's signature slashed across the page in blood-red ink. I noticed there was no place for my signature-this was a unilateral declaration, not a contract.

My heart stopped. The foolish spark of hope turned to ash. This wasn't mercy. This was a fate worse than death-to be branded a traitor and cast out into the wild as a defenseless, wolfless Rogue.

Without a single glance in my direction, Kael walked past me toward the door, his broad shoulder brushing mine with icy indifference as he left the office.