"Congratulations, Isla. The treatment worked. You're pregnant." Isla pressed the phone closer to her ear, afraid she had misheard. "Really?" "Your blood results look good. We'll book your first scan, and given your recent surgery, I'd like you to take things easy." She thanked the doctor twice before hanging up, then sat on the edge of her bed with tears slipping down her cheeks. After the injections, the failed attempts, and all those appointments she had attended alone, there was finally a baby. She called Coel, smiling as she waited for him to answer. When it rang out, she reminded herself that he was still recovering. He had only been awake for three weeks, and the nurses were always saying he needed rest. She could tell him in person. Isla washed her face, tucked the printed results into her bag, and headed for the pack house. By the time she reached his bedroom, she had almost decided how to tell him. Then she heard a woman moan. "Coel... oh, right there." Isla stopped with her hand inches from the door. She knew that voice. Hilda, her stepsister, had spent years making sure Isla never felt welcome in her own home. She had ruined her clothes, spread rumors, and cried whenever their father caught her, knowing Isla would take the blame. Now she was in her mate's bedroom. The headboard knocked against the wall, followed by Coel's low laugh. "Quiet. Do you want someone to hear?" "Afraid your little Omega will find out?" "Don't bring her up." "Why not? She follows you around like a stray. You'd think she'd managed to give you something by now." Isla's fingers tightened around her bag. "She's had enough chances," Coel said. "How difficult can it be to get pregnant?" Hilda laughed, and Isla pushed open the door. Her stepsister was on his lap, her skirt bunched around her waist. Coel's hand was beneath her blouse, and neither of them moved until Isla spoke. "What are you doing?" Hilda slid off him, looking irritated rather than ashamed. Coel pulled up his trousers before reaching for the champagne on his bedside table. "Close the door." Isla stared at the man she had sat beside for weeks, begging him to wake up. "I called you." "My phone's on silent." "I can see why." Hilda smoothed her skirt, her mouth curving into the same smile she used whenever she knew their father would take her side. "You really should knock." Isla ignored her. "How long has this been happening?" Coel poured himself a drink. "You're making a scene over nothing." "You're sleeping with my sister." "Stepsister," Hilda corrected. The pull of the mate bond was still there, urging Isla toward him even as her stomach turned. Serena, her wolf, paced beneath her skin, distressed by the scent of another woman on him. "Was it happening before the attack?" Isla asked. Coel set down his glass. "What difference does it make?" She had thought there would at least be an apology, something to suggest he understood what he had done. "You could have told me you didn't want me." "Don't put words in my mouth. You're my mate." "Then why is she here?" "Because she knows how to be pleasant company." Hilda folded her arms, watching Isla as though this were a show put on for her benefit. Coel leaned against the bed. "Every time you come in here, it's another appointment, another treatment, another reason something hasn't worked. I nearly died, Isla. I don't need more disappointment." Her hand closed around the strap of her bag, keeping the report hidden inside. "I went through those treatments for you." "And what have we got to show for them?" She felt the words she had come to say pressing against her throat. She swallowed them. "Perhaps if you spent less time complaining," Hilda said, "he'd actually want you around." Isla looked at Coel, waiting for him to tell her to stop. He took a drink instead. "I gave you part of my liver." His glass paused halfway to the table. "When the doctors said you wouldn't survive without a donor, I volunteered. I was still healing when your family asked me to start fertility treatment." "I remember." "Do you? Because you're standing there telling me how much I've disappointed you." Color rose in his face. "You're my mate, and I'm your Alpha. Being able to help me should be an honor, not something you hold over my head." Isla stared at him. Then she crossed the room, picked up the champagne bottle, and struck him across the side of the head. The impact jarred her arm. Coel crashed into the bedside table, sending his glass to the floor, while Hilda's scream filled the room. Isla put the bottle down before her trembling fingers lost their grip. Blood ran from a cut near Coel's temple. "You fucking hit me." Her voice shook, but she made herself answer. "Yes." Hilda crouched beside him, shrieking for a healer. Coel shoved her hand away and straightened, his eyes flashing gold. "I could have you locked up for attacking your Alpha. Do you understand that?" Isla's chest tightened beneath the weight of his command, but Serena pushed forward, furious now. "You think being my mate protects you?" he demanded. "No," Isla said. "I don't." She set her bag down and braced herself against the dresser. "I, Isla Spencer, reject you, Coel Reese, as my mate." The bond tore through her chest. Her knees buckled, and she caught the dresser hard enough to bruise her palm. Across the room, Coel doubled over with a choked curse. For one terrible moment, she wanted to go to him. She gripped the wood until the urge passed. "You can't..." He dragged in a breath. "Take it back." Isla picked up her bag. "Walk out that door, and don't expect me to take you back when you come crawling." She left without looking at him. * At the hospital, Isla sat with her phone in her lap and nowhere to go. Her mother had been dead for twelve years. Her father had remarried before Isla had stopped setting an extra place at dinner, and he had spent the years since telling her not to upset his new family. There would be no help waiting there. She had little money of her own, no steady income, and a body still recovering from the surgery that had saved Coel. Without him, she could barely support herself. She opened her bag and looked at the report. An hour ago, she had imagined buying tiny clothes and arguing with Coel over names. Now she was trying to work out where she could afford to sleep. "Miss Spencer?" Isla followed the nurse into a consultation room, where a doctor asked what had brought her in. She pressed her hands together. "I need to discuss ending a pregnancy." The doctor reviewed her history, asked about her recovery, and explained that they needed an assessment before deciding on a suitable procedure. When she stepped out to arrange an examination, Isla remained at the desk with a consent form in front of her. Her hand drifted to her stomach. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Voices rose in the corridor before she could pick up the pen. "Sir, this is a private consultation..." The door struck the wall. A tall man in a dark suit stood in the doorway, with a flustered administrator behind him. His gaze found Isla, dropped to the form, then returned to her face. "Alpha Logan," the administrator began. "You cannot simply..." "Leave us the room." Isla reached for her bag. "If Coel sent you, tell him I'm done taking orders." "Whoever Coel is, he didn't send me." "Then you have no business here." Logan stepped inside. "The hell I don't. You're carrying my child, Isla Spencer." Her hand went still against her stomach. His eyes held hers. "And you don't get to make this decision without me."

Isla stared at him, waiting for the rest of the explanation. There had to be one. "You've got the wrong woman." Logan placed a folder on the desk hard enough to make the pen roll toward her. "Read it." Her name was at the top of the first page, above her patient number and the date of her procedure. She recognized both, but the sample identification beneath them meant nothing until she reached the name beside it. Logan Vale. She looked up at him. She had seen that face on television, usually surrounded by ministers or stepping out of a car while reporters shouted questions. Alpha Logan Vale wasn't simply wealthy. He was the most powerful Alpha in the country. And according to the document in her hands, she was carrying his child. "No." She turned the page, searching for something that made sense. "The sample was supposed to be my mate's." "It wasn't." The hospital administrator lingered in the doorway, gripping a tablet against his chest. "Miss Spencer, we've reviewed the treatment records. Unfortunately, the wrong sample was used during your procedure." "Unfortunately?" Her voice came out louder than she intended. The administrator glanced at Logan before answering. "We understand how distressing this must be." "You called me this morning and congratulated me." "The error was only confirmed afterward. We were arranging to contact you when Alpha Vale arrived." Isla lowered the papers before they shook visibly. She had let them put needles into her body, followed every instruction, and trusted them to know what they were doing. Now a stranger stood over her, claiming the baby she had spent the morning imagining. "I'll take it from here," Logan told the administrator. The man hesitated, but Logan's expression sent him out. The door closed with a soft click. Isla pushed the folder away. "You don't get to dismiss people from my appointment." "Would you prefer an audience?" "I'd prefer not to be having this conversation." Logan pulled out the chair opposite her and sat. "Then let's make it straightforward. You'll have a specialist team overseeing the pregnancy, accommodation if you need it, and all your expenses covered." She stared at him as he continued. "There will also be substantial compensation after the birth. If you have existing financial obligations, those can be dealt with." An hour ago, Coel had told her she should be honored to give him whatever he needed. This one was at least offering to pay. "And what happens to me afterward?" "That will be set out in an agreement." "What happens to the baby?" "My child will be provided for." She waited for him to add something about her, but he was already reaching for the folder. Isla turned it facedown. "No." His hand stopped. "You haven't heard the terms." "I've heard enough." "Miss Spencer, I don't think you appreciate what I'm offering." "You're offering me money to stay pregnant." "I'm offering you security." "In exchange for doing what you want." His jaw shifted, although his voice remained level. "You came here intending to end the pregnancy. If your circumstances are the reason, I can change them." She hated that he was right about her circumstances, and hated more that he sounded so certain they were all he needed to fix. "I've just walked away from a man who thought giving him a child was my job. I'm not taking the same job from you." For the first time, Logan said nothing. Isla picked up her bag. "A man like you won't have trouble finding a woman willing to have your baby." His fingers went still against the folder. "I'm not discussing another woman. I'm discussing the child you're already carrying." "And I'm telling you to find someone who wants this arrangement." "If the amount is the problem, name your price." "The money isn't the problem." "Then tell me what is." She looked at him, seated comfortably across the desk as though they were negotiating something he would eventually buy. "You haven't asked me what I want." His gaze held hers. "What do you want?" This morning, she could have answered without thinking. Now her mate bond was gone, her family home was barely a home at all, and she couldn't even look at her pregnancy report without wondering what else the hospital had got wrong. "I want you to stop talking long enough for me to think." Logan leaned back, visibly displeased. Isla stood before he could start again. "I need to verify these records, speak to the doctor, and work out where I'm staying tonight. I'm not signing anything." "Where are you staying?" She tightened her grip on her bag. "That's not your concern." "It becomes my concern if you're putting yourself at risk." "I'm looking for somewhere to sleep, not somewhere to jump." His eyes narrowed, but she was already reaching for the report. "May I take this, or do I have to negotiate for it too?" Logan released the folder. Then he took a card from inside his jacket and placed it on top. "Three days." Isla looked at the embossed name. "To do what?" "Consider my offer. Call the number on that card when you're ready to discuss what you need." "And if my answer doesn't change?" His expression hardened. "My patience has limits, Isla." She slid the card into her bag without answering. "No procedure in the meantime," he added. "I said I'd think." He watched her for another moment before moving his chair out of her way. * Coel's message arrived as Isla stepped outside. Come back before tonight. Otherwise, I'll have the guards bring you in for assaulting your Alpha. She read it twice, then checked the street as though he might already have sent someone. There was nobody waiting, but that did little to steady her. Logan's card pressed against her fingers inside her bag. She left it there and opened her father's contact instead. Her thumb hovered over the call button. Cassian had never been good at listening when she needed him. Usually, he told her to apologize, keep the peace, or stop making things difficult for Melinda. But this was different. Coel was threatening to imprison her. Surely her father would have something to say about that. She didn't need him to hold her while she cried. She needed him to make one phone call and help her get somewhere safe. Isla put her phone away and headed home. The front door hadn't latched properly, and she pushed it open without ringing. Her father's voice carried from the sitting room before she could call out. "Coel wants her sent back tonight." She stopped in the hall. "And have him blame us every time she causes trouble?" Melinda asked. "She's ruined the only useful thing she had going for her." Cassian sighed. "I told you she was too temperamental." Isla stood with one hand still on the door. "Alpha Reid asked about her at the winter dinner," Melinda said. "His offer might still stand." "That was before this mess with Coel." "He wanted a young woman in his bed, Cassian, not a wedding. I doubt he'll care about a broken mate bond." Isla knew Reid. He was older than her father and had kept his hand on her lower back through an entire photograph while she tried to move away. Her father made a thoughtful sound. "How much did he offer?" "Enough to make losing Coel's favor considerably less painful." A chair scraped across the floor. "Call him," Cassian said. "If he'll pay tonight, he can collect her tomorrow." "And if she refuses?" Her father gave a short, impatient laugh. "Then don't tell her until he's paid."

Isla kept her hand against the front door until she was sure she could move without making a sound. Inside, Melinda was already looking for Alpha Reid's number. She backed down the steps, walked past the gates, and didn't stop until the house was hidden behind the trees. Then she took Logan's card from her bag. He answered on the third ring. "That was quick." "I'll have the baby," she said, gripping the phone with both hands. "But you have to marry me." There was a pause. "Marriage wasn't part of my offer." "Then you have my answer." A car passed, its headlights sweeping over her. She turned away, trying to keep her breathing quiet. "Where are you?" Logan asked. "Does it matter?" "It does if we're going to discuss this." He gave her the address of a cafe and told her to meet him there in forty minutes. Isla thought the cafe had closed early until a waiter opened the door and addressed her by name. Logan sat near the back windows, his jacket draped over an empty chair. Two men occupied a table on the other side of the room, but there were no other customers. "Where is everyone?" she asked as she sat. "I booked the place." "For a conversation?" His expression suggested he didn't understand the question. The waiter brought water and a menu. Isla glanced at the prices before putting it down. "Just tea, please." "And something to eat," Logan added. "I'm not hungry." "When did you last eat?" She couldn't remember, which apparently answered him. He ordered a sandwich, then waited until the waiter had left. "Why marriage?" Isla had spent the journey rehearsing explanations, but none of them seemed usable with him watching her. She wouldn't tell this stranger that her father had put a price on her. She couldn't bear the thought of him looking at her with pity, or worse, realizing how little room she had to negotiate. "I don't want my child growing up being told their mother wasn't worth marrying." Logan's gaze sharpened slightly. "Is that what you think would happen?" "I know people can be cruel when they think there's nobody to stop them." He said nothing, and she hurried to fill the silence. "I'm not asking to be your Luna. You wouldn't have to introduce me at events or give me any position in your pack." "What exactly would you be asking for?" "A year," she said. "We stay married through the pregnancy and for a little while afterward. Then we divorce." The waiter arrived with her tea and sandwich, giving her something to look at besides Logan. "I wouldn't ask for much when it's over," she continued. "Enough to get somewhere to live while I find work." "And the child?" Her fingers tightened around the cup. "I'd need to be able to see them." "You'd agree to all this for visitation?" "I'd agree to a divorce," she said, looking up. "Not to stop being their mother." Logan leaned back, studying her for so long that she began to regret coming. She picked up half the sandwich, then put it down again. "Isla." She met his eyes. "Eat. I'm thinking." She took a bite because she needed something to do, and because the first mouthful made her realize how hungry she was. After a while, Logan turned toward the other table. "Bring the documents." One of the men approached with a briefcase. Isla swallowed. "You brought a lawyer?" "You asked me to marry you." "I thought you'd say no." "I haven't said yes yet." Heat rose in her face, but before she could reach for her bag, he continued. "One year. You'll have appropriate financial support afterward, and continued access to the child. The details will be put in writing." She stared at him. "You're agreeing?" "Provided you stop looking as though I'm about to withdraw the offer." The next two hours passed in a blur of paperwork, quiet phone calls, and questions Isla hadn't expected to answer that evening. She read everything before signing, lingering over the provisions concerning the baby until Logan's lawyer explained them twice. Then an authorized marriage registrar arrived carrying a leather folder, and Isla realized the paperwork wasn't merely preparation. "We're doing this tonight?" Logan glanced at her. "Would you prefer another meeting?" "No. I just..." She looked at the form placed in front of her, with his name already printed beside hers. Coel had always needed more time. After the next council meeting, after the next pack ceremony, once his recovery was further along. There had always been a reason. Logan picked up his pen. By the time the registrar handed her the marriage certificate, the cafe staff were stacking chairs beyond the partition. Isla ran a finger beneath her new husband's name. "Keep that somewhere safe," Logan said. She slipped it carefully into her bag. Outside, the air had turned cold. Logan held the cafe door while she struggled with a twisted bag strap, then freed it from her sleeve without comment. His fingers brushed her wrist, warm against her chilled skin. "I've arranged a suite for tonight," he said. "My assistant will collect you at ten tomorrow and take you to the house." She looked up. "Your house?" "Unless you've found a different husband in the last five minutes." Despite everything, a startled breath of laughter escaped her. Logan's gaze lingered on her face before he opened the car door. "If anything changes, call me." * The call came shortly after seven the next morning. "Miss Isla?" The family housekeeper sounded strained. "Your father is unwell. He's asking for you." Isla sat up against the hotel pillows. "What's wrong with him?" "He says it's his heart." "Has anyone called a doctor?" A pause followed. "He asked me to call you first." Isla closed her eyes. Her mother had left her a small jewelry box that was still hidden at the back of her wardrobe, along with the documents she would need to start working. Yesterday, she hadn't dared go inside to retrieve them. Now she had a marriage certificate and someone expecting her at ten. "I'll come by," she said. Before leaving, she messaged Logan's assistant with the address, explaining that she was collecting belongings from her father's house. She kept the certificate in her bag. Cassian was sitting on the sofa when she arrived, a blanket over his knees and a full breakfast on the table beside him. "You took your time." Isla glanced at the plate. "What did the doctor say?" "Sit down. We need to talk." "I'd rather hear what's wrong with your heart." Melinda emerged from the dining room. "He's been under a great deal of stress because of you. Try showing some concern." Isla remained standing. Cassian pushed his untouched toast aside. "After the trouble you've caused with Coel, the least you can do is help put things right." "By doing what?" "Alpha Reid has invited you to spend the evening with him." Melinda smiled as though this were good news. "He's been very generous, considering your circumstances." "My circumstances?" "Coel doesn't want you anymore," she said. "You can't expect men to line up for an Omega who's already lost her mate." Isla looked at her father. "Have you taken his money?" Cassian's mouth tightened. "That's none of your business." She opened her bag and took out the certificate. "Then you'll have to give it back." Melinda glanced at the paper without reaching for it. "What is that?" "My marriage certificate." Cassian pulled the blanket off his knees. "Don't be ridiculous. What man would marry you after Coel?" Isla placed the document on the table and turned it so he could read the name beside hers. "Logan Vale," she said. "You can explain your arrangement with Alpha Reid to my husband."