Chapter 4

Elara POV:

Damien settled Lyra and her pup into the guest room, the one right next to our master bedroom, before he finally came to find me. It was late, the moon high in the sky.

I was on the bathroom floor, my body wracked with violent waves of morning sickness. The stress, the heartbreak, it was all making the pregnancy unbearable. My own wolf was agitated, pacing restlessly within me, sensing the deep betrayal from her mate.

He found me there, pale and shaking.

"Oh, my poor love," he murmured, kneeling beside me. He gathered me into his arms, his touch once a source of profound comfort, now felt like a lie. He whispered soothing words, stroking my hair.

But then I smelled it. On his skin, in his clothes, was the lingering scent of Lyra and her child. It was a foreign smell, an invasion. It screamed that he belonged to another. My body reacted violently, and I wretched again, emptying the contents of my stomach onto the cold tiles.

"Water," I croaked, my throat raw. I was too weak to stand. "Please, Damien. Get me some water."

I lay back against the cool wall, my eyes closed. I just wanted a simple glass of water.

As he was about to stand, a soft chime echoed, not in the room, but in my head. A private Mind-Link channel. It was Lyra.

"Damien? The baby won't stop crying. I need you." Her mental voice was cloying, deliberately helpless.

Damien didn't hesitate. "I'm coming," he sent back instantly.

He turned to me, his expression a mixture of pity and impatience. "I have to go help her," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I won't be back tonight."

He left. Just like that.

Summoning what little strength I had left, I pushed myself up, my legs trembling. I made my way to the kitchen, my hand sliding along the wall for support.

As I passed the guest room, the door was slightly ajar. I couldn't help but look.

And the sight broke what was left of my heart.

Damien and Lyra were lying on the bed together. Between them, sleeping peacefully now, was her pup. They looked like a family. A perfect, happy, fake family.

I stood there, frozen in the hallway, as Lyra's soft voice drifted through the crack in the door.

"When will you do it, Damien?" she asked. "When will you reject her?"

I saw him lean over and press a soft kiss to her forehead.

His reply was a death sentence to my soul. "Soon. I promise. I'll give you and our boy the life you deserve."