“Luna Freya Hart, your mate is so devoted,” a nurse giggled. “He hasn’t missed a single soul check, the alpha always makes sure he's with you every prenatal check-up! Even brought you a heatstone for the chill of the scan.”
I froze. My hand drifted protectively over my flat stomach.
There was a time when Draven had been just as anxious for me. Just as tender.
I’d been pregnant once.
But I never got the chance to tell him.
Because the day I returned from a healing mission, I found him and Freya entwined on the floor of our room, their snarls and moans echoing off the walls.
When she spotted me, Freya faked a whimper and curled against him. “Please, don’t misunderstand, Luna Rayven,” she sniffed. “Alpha Draven was just… relieving his stress, I was just helping him.”
I was so stunned, I forgot how to breathe. I opened my mouth to speak—to tell him he was going to be a father.
That I didn’t need anyone else to carry our bloodline.
But a sharp, brutal pain lanced through my womb.
By the time I collapsed, I was already bleeding out.
Draven Blackthorn never knew.
How would he know? When he was too busy growling at me, cradling Freya like a fragile pup.