And when Sabrina turned out to be pregnant, Lucian acted as though it was his moral duty—his obligation as a wolf and as a man—to stay by her side.
He conveniently forgot one thing: I was pregnant, too. And I was further along.
Between the two of us, I was the one who needed care—yet he gave it all to her.
For the longest time, I believed the pup Sabrina carried belonged to him. I tried to ask him gently, carefully, indirectly. I even told him that if he no longer loved me, he needed to be honest.
But he always shut me down—snapping, impatient, refusing to discuss it. And the single time I dared to ask whose pup Sabrina was carrying, he exploded.
He insisted again and again that I was overthinking, that I lacked trust, until I forced myself to believe him.
I told myself he was simply being kind. That he wasn’t falling out of love with me.
But today shattered every illusion. Sabrina’s child had always been his.
They had been hiding their affair for gods know how long, and I… I had been nothing but their convenient cover.
When Lucian brought up divorcing me, Sabrina’s expression—barely a flicker—shifted with unmistakable satisfaction behind her carefully crafted mask.