POV Odette
The Alpha residence door closed behind me with the finality of a coffin lid. Many years of calling this place home, and now the very air rejected me.
My footsteps on the stone steps echoed like a countdown—each one carrying me further from what had been and closer to what waited.
I pulled out my phone and typed three words to Nina: I am free.
Her response blazed across the screen instantly: Finally! Drinks tonight to celebrate?
Me: Leaving for the palace. Rain check?
Nina: Always. Fly away, Princess. This cage never deserved you.
The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly as I stood at the edge of the driveway, watching pack members pass without acknowledgment.
I dialed Nathaniel's number. He answered before the second ring.
"Come get me," I said without preamble. "I'm done here."
"Five minutes." His voice carried that particular tension of restraint. "Where?"
"Main entrance. I'll be the one looking like I just burned down my entire life."
"Then you'll be radiant." The line went dead.
His SUV materialized exactly five minutes later, sliding to the curb with predatory grace. He leaned across to open the passenger door, that controlled ceremony he used to steady chaos radiating from every movement.
"Drive," I said, sliding into leather seats. "Before I do something dramatic like set fire to the garden."
"That would make an impressive exit." He pulled away slowly, giving me time to watch the packlands shrink in the mirrors. "Though arson charges might complicate your royal duties."
We drove in silence for ten minutes, the territory unwinding behind us like a scroll being rolled up and stored away. Finally, when the pack boundaries were just a memory in the rearview, I spoke.
"It's done. The divorce is signed, filed, finished."
His hands stayed perfectly steady on the wheel. "That must have been difficult."
"You're not going to ask how I feel about it?"
"I pushed you too hard at the hotel." He kept his eyes on the road. "Demanding answers, forcing timelines. That was wrong of me."
"You were trying to end the pretense—"
"I was being selfish." His voice carried unfamiliar softness. "You loved Devon for six years. Built a life with him. That doesn't just evaporate because I showed up with a prior claim."
I studied his profile, searching for deception. "Since when are you this understanding?"
"Since I watched you walk into his office this morning, knowing what it would cost you." He finally glanced at me. "You ended a marriage today, Odette. That deserves respect, not celebration."
"And if I need time? Real time, not just a few days?"
"Then you'll have it." No hesitation, no conditions. "I'll wait."
"Even if I'm never ready for more?"
"Even then." His jaw tightened slightly. "Though I'd prefer you didn't test that theory for too long."
"There's the Nathaniel I know."
"I'm trying to be better." He shifted lanes smoothly. "Where do you want to go?"
"My father's palace. I need—"
I paused, searching for words.
"I need walls that recognize me. A bed that doesn't carry someone else's scent. A home that doesn't measure my worth by my womb."
"The palace it is." He accelerated slightly. "I've had enough of these pack roads anyway. Every mile smells like mediocrity and petty politics."
"The countryside is beautiful," I countered, needing levity. "Rolling hills, pristine forests—"
"Populated by wolves who think tradition is more important than evolution." He affected an exaggerated grimace. "Give me city streets and palace halls. At least there, the knives in your back come with style."
The tension eased slightly, and we fell into comfortable silence for the rest of the drive. When the palace gates came into view, something in my chest unclenched. Home. Not the home I'd chosen, but the one I'd been born to.
Nathaniel parked in the circular drive but made no move to leave. "Should I—"
"Stay." The word came out more command than request. "You've earned a few nights in a proper bed after all this negotiation."
"Your father might object to housing the man who impregnated his daughter."
"My father forfeited his right to object when he hid me for twenty-six years." I stepped out, breathing in the manicured air of royal grounds. "Besides, you're not just the man who impregnated me. You're the father of the next heir to the Nightfall territory. That carries weight, even here."
He followed me through marble halls where servants bowed low and paintings of dead royalty watched our passing with oil-paint eyes. My suite sprawled across the entire west wing—rooms I'd begun to think of as mine.
"Get some rest," Nathaniel said at my door. "You look beautiful, but exhausted."
"Flattery will get you nowhere." But I was exhausted, bone-deep weary from the emotional marathon of the day.
"I prefer honesty to flattery." He stepped back, giving me space. "When you're ready to talk—really talk, not just exchange pleasantries—find me."
That night I slept like the dead, wrapped in sheets that had never known Devon's scent.
I woke to afternoon sun and a clarity I hadn't felt in years. My phone showed three missed calls from Devon, two from the council, and one from Mira. I deleted them all without listening to the messages.
Instead, I sent a different message: Walk with me tonight? Same path where you first showed me the grounds. 7 PM.
Nathaniel's response came as an audio note, his voice carrying that particular formality he used when he was trying not to seem eager: "I would be honored by the audience of a princess and grateful for the company of the woman. Seven it is."
* * *
Dusk painted the gardens in shades of amber and shadow. I found him waiting by the entrance to the hedge maze, dressed down in dark jeans and a simple shirt that somehow made him look more dangerous than any formal wear.
"You came," I said.
"You texted." He fell into step beside me. "Though I notice you chose the most romantic spot on the grounds. Should I read into that?"
"Read into whatever you like." We walked deeper into the gardens, past sculpted topiaries and fountains that whispered secrets to the dying light. "Tell me about the negotiations. The real version, not the sanitized updates you kept sending."
"Devon fought harder than expected." Nathaniel's voice carried grudging respect. "He may have lost you, but he protected his pack's interests with genuine skill. The man's not the weak Alpha everyone assumes."
"He never was weak. Just lost in competing obligations." We reached the lake, its surface catching the last rays of sun like scattered diamonds. "The weak one was me, letting it go on so long."
"You were trying to honor vows that mattered to you. There's no weakness in that."
"There is when those vows are already broken." I stopped at the water's edge, watching ripples disturb the reflected sky. "I need to tell you something."
"I'm listening."
"The child—our child—it's not just an accident or revenge or a moment of weakness." I turned to face him, needing him to see the truth in my eyes. "When I'm with you, something in me settles. Like all the broken pieces suddenly remember how they fit together."
"Odette—"
"I'm not finished." I stepped closer, close enough to feel his warmth. "You terrify me. This intensity between us, the way my wolf recognizes yours, how right it feels when it should feel like betrayal—it terrifies me."
"But?" His hands came up to frame my face, thumbs tracing my cheekbones.
"But I want it anyway." The admission freed something in my chest. "I want you, this child, the future we could build. I'm choosing it. Choosing you."
He kissed me then, not with the desperate hunger of that first night, but with intention. With promise. With the careful attention of a man who'd waited and won. When he pulled back, we were both breathing hard.