Chapter 4

Freya's POV

Knocking pulled me from the depths of fitful sleep. The sound echoed through my pounding head, a cruel reminder of the hours I'd spent crying last night. Weak morning light filtered through the curtains as I struggled to orient myself. A familiar nausea rose in my throat—the morning sickness that had become my daily companion—and I swallowed hard against it.

"Just a minute," I croaked, my voice raspy from tears.

Inside me, Ember stirred anxiously. My wolf had been protective since we'd learned about the pregnancy, and now she paced restlessly, sensing my distress.

"Come in," I called finally, assuming it was Olivia with tea or some gentle reprimand about my uneaten dinner.

When the door swung open, I froze. Ethan stood framed in the doorway, his powerful silhouette backlit by the hallway light. In three years of our contractual bonding, he had never—not once—entered my bedroom. This space had remained my sanctuary, the one place where I could be entirely myself without his intimidating presence.

My heart thudded painfully as I became acutely aware of my appearance. My eyes were swollen from crying, my hair a tangled mess, and I wore only a thin silk nightgown that suddenly felt completely inadequate. I yanked the blanket up to my chin, my cheeks burning.

"Ethan," I managed, struggling to sound composed. "You're... back."

He remained in the doorway, as if reluctant to fully enter my space. Morning sunlight caught his profile, highlighting the sharp angles of his face and the stubble darkening his jaw. He still wore the same clothes from yesterday, wrinkled now from a night without changing. And there, mingling with his natural pine-and-rain scent, was something else—a feminine perfume, delicate and deliberately applied. Riley's scent.

Ember growled low in my consciousness, suddenly alert and hostile. My wolf recognized the threat more clearly than I wanted to admit.

"I won't take much of your time," Ethan said, his voice detached and professional.

He stepped forward finally, moving with that fluid grace that reminded me he was no ordinary man but an Alpha predator. Ethan placed a manila folder on my bedside table with deliberate care. "Riley's back," he said without preamble. "It's time to end this charade."

"Riley's back." The words froze the blood in my veins. Of course she was back. The entire pack had been buzzing about her triumphant return for days—Riley Hayes, the brave pure-blood who had supposedly thrown herself between Ethan and danger during territorial negotiations. Riley, who had been "gravely injured" protecting him, temporarily losing her ability to shift. My stomach clenched with bitter knowledge.

Only I truly knew my half-sister—selfish to her core, calculating in every move. The Riley I grew up with would never risk a broken nail for someone else, let alone her life. But who would believe me? The unwanted mixed-blood questioning the pack's returning hero? The contrast was too perfect: Riley sacrificing herself for the Alpha while I contributed... what? A convenient signature on mating papers?

Ember whined, confusion and fear replacing her earlier aggression. My wolf couldn't comprehend how our Alpha, our mate, could dismiss our bond so casually. She pressed against my consciousness, seeking reassurance I couldn't give, while my own heart splintered into jagged shards that seemed to cut me from within.

"The papers are straightforward," he continued, gesturing toward the folder. His voice held the same tone he might use discussing quarterly reports or pack territory disputes. "Once signed, our bonding agreement will be officially dissolved."

My hand moved unconsciously to my abdomen, a protective gesture I couldn't control. Inside me, Ember howled with a mixture of rage and desperation.

"Just like that?" I whispered, fighting to keep my voice steady.

Ethan's silver-gray eyes flickered to my face, cold and distant. "The arrangement was always temporary, Freya. You knew that."

Of course I knew. Our contract had been clear from the beginning: a business arrangement, nothing more. Ethan needed a mate to secure his position as Alpha, and I needed money for my mother's medical care. Four years, we'd agreed. No emotional entanglements. No expectations beyond the contractual obligations.

But then there had been that night. One night when the barriers between us had fallen away. One night that had changed everything, at least for me.

"I know," I said finally. "But I need time to... make arrangements. To decide where I'll go next."

I gathered my thoughts, buying time. I needed to think about the baby growing inside me—Ethan's baby. I needed to plan what I would do, where I would go. As a mixed-blood werewolf, I had never truly belonged anywhere. Not in my father's pack, where my human blood made me less than. Not here in Moonshade territory, where I was merely the Alpha's temporary convenience.

Something flickered across Ethan's face—a momentary hesitation that I might have imagined. He nodded curtly.

"Of course. I'll continue covering your mother's medical expenses as agreed." He paused, then added, "And there will be a compensation payment upon signing, as specified in section twelve."

He thought that in this deal, all I sought was the money for my mother's medical expenses, but in reality, few knew that the mysterious artisan crafting exquisite silver works for supernatural beings was actually me, the Alpha's unwanted mate. A year ago, Rose Winter's name gained fame in the supernatural world, and the income was substantial enough to cover my mother's medical costs without relying on Ethan's financial support.

I never suggested ending our arrangement early, foolishly hoping that with time, proximity might nurture genuine feelings between us. Last night's dinner preparations now seemed pathetically naive, a child's fantasy shattered against the hard reality of Ethan's indifference.

"Thank you," I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

Ethan turned to leave, then stopped at the threshold. For a heartbeat, I thought he might say something more, something that acknowledged what we'd shared beyond the cold language of contracts. Instead, he simply nodded once and closed the door behind him.

The silence that followed felt suffocating. His scent lingered in the room, mingling with mine in a way that seemed almost cruel given what had just transpired. Ember paced frantically within me, sensing the impending separation from our Alpha with primal panic.

The moment the door clicked shut, tears spilled down my cheeks. I didn't bother wiping them away. My hand moved to my still-flat stomach, to the tiny life growing there—a life that would complicate everything.

The contract folder sat on the nightstand like a ticking bomb. Three years ago, I'd signed those papers without hesitation, desperate to save my mother. Now, I wasn't sure I could bear to see the cold legal language dissolving the one connection I had to Ethan.

A gentle knock interrupted my thoughts.

"Mrs. Blackwood?" Olivia's voice called softly through the door. "There's a communication request for you downstairs."

I quickly wiped my tears, forcing composure back into my voice. "Thank you, Olivia. I'll be right down."

Downstairs in the communication room, Marcus's angry face filled the screen.

"Freya, you've got some nerve blocking my communications!" he barked.