Octavia's POV
My hands shook as I threw open the doors to my wardrobe, pulling out my cloak with desperate urgency.
The confrontation with Darius had left me feeling raw and exposed, like every carefully constructed wall I'd built around my heart had crumbled in the space of minutes.
"My lady?" Margaret appeared in the doorway, her face creased with concern. "Whatever is the matter?"
"I'm leaving," I said, fastening the cloak around my shoulders with fumbling fingers. "I can't stay here anymore."
"Leaving? But my lady, you cannot-"
"I'm running away," I cut her off, my voice high and strained. "I won't be a hostage anymore. I won't live in silence and shadows while my husband treats me like a burden he's forced to bear."
Margaret moved toward me, her hands outstretched in a placating gesture. "Please, my lady, think about what you're saying. Where would you go? How would you survive? His Highness would never-" But I was already pushing past her, my mind made up.
I couldn't stay in this castle another moment, couldn't pretend that this marriage was anything more than a beautiful cage designed to keep me contained while the world moved on without me.
I ran through the corridors, my dress tangling around my legs and slowing my progress. The stone floors seemed to stretch endlessly before me, each step echoing off the walls like a heartbeat. Nausea rolled through my stomach in waves, but I pushed through it, driven by desperation and the overwhelming need to escape.
In the courtyard, I caught a glimpse of movement in my peripheral vision, a tall figure in dark clothing moving toward the main entrance. Darius. He must have heard the commotion, must be coming to stop me. But I didn't slow down, didn't give him the chance to cage me with more rules and restrictions.
The castle gates loomed ahead, already open for the changing of the guard. I slipped through them before anyone could react, plunging into the forest beyond without looking back.
The cold hit me like a physical blow, cutting through my cloak and dress as if they were made of paper. Snow crunched beneath my feet, and branches tore at my hair as I stumbled deeper into the woods.
Behind me, I heard it, a low growl that seemed to vibrate through the very trees around me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw them: red eyes burning like coals in the darkness between the pines. He had followed me, of course he had.
Terror gave wings to my feet as I veered toward the frozen lake I could see glinting through the trees ahead. If I could reach the other side, maybe I could lose him in the forest beyond.
Maybe I could find a village, people who would help me, a way back to some semblance of the life I'd lost. The ice groaned ominously as I stepped onto its surface, but I didn't stop. I couldn't.
Behind me, the growling grew closer, and I could hear the thunder of massive paws hitting the frozen ground as Darius gave chase. Halfway across the lake, the ice began to crack beneath my feet.
Spider web fractures spread out from where I stood, the sound sharp as breaking glass in the frigid air. I tried to move faster, but my heavy skirts were dragging me down, making each step a struggle.
I turned to see how close he was, and that's when he leaped. The massive black wolf launched himself across the remaining distance between us, his red eyes blazing with something that might have been desperation.
He crashed into me with the force of an avalanche, and the ice shattered completely beneath our combined weight. The freezing water hit my body like a thousand knives, driving the breath from my lungs and sending shock waves of cold through every nerve in my body.
The weight of my winter clothes dragged me down into the black depths, and for a terrifying moment, I thought I was going to drown. But then strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me up toward the surface.
Human arms, somehow, in the chaos of the fall, Darius had shifted back to his human form. He hauled me out of the water and onto more solid ice, his own body shaking with cold as he gathered me against his chest.
"Don't you dare," he was saying, his voice rough with panic and something that sounded almost like grief. "Don't you dare leave me like this."
But the cold had already claimed me. Darkness closed in around the edges of my vision, and the last thing I remembered was the feeling of being carried, of strong arms holding me against warmth that felt like salvation.
When I woke, it was the feeling of my stomach trying to empty itself. I barely made it to the bucket someone had thoughtfully placed beside the bed before I was retching violently, my whole body shaking with the effort.
"Easy," a familiar voice said from somewhere behind me. "You're safe. You're alive."
I looked up to find Darius sitting in a chair beside my bed, a tray of food balanced on his lap. He looked terrible, haggard and exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes that suggested he hadn't slept since pulling me from the lake.
"How long?" I managed to croak, my voice raw and scratchy.
"Two days," he replied, setting the tray aside and leaning forward. "You nearly died out there, Octavia. Hypothermia, the doctor said. A few more minutes in that water and..." He trailed off, his jaw working as if he were fighting to maintain his composure.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, though I wasn't entirely sure what I was apologizing for.
"You should be," he said, but there was no anger in his voice. Just a bone-deep weariness that made him look older than his years. "You would have died out there. And so would the baby."
The words hit me like another plunge into ice water. "What?"
"The doctor confirmed it when he examined you. You're pregnant, Octavia. About six weeks along, he estimates."
I stared at him, my mind reeling. Pregnant. The word seemed to echo in my skull, impossible and terrifying and somehow inevitable all at once. My hand moved unconsciously to my stomach, pressing against the flat plane beneath my nightgown.
"That's why you've been feeling sick," Darius continued, his voice carefully neutral. "The nausea, the fatigue. Your body is changing."
He paused then, his gaze lingering on me, not just my face, but my hand against my belly. There was something unreadable in his eyes. Not cold or cruel, just… distant. Like he was fighting something back.
Finally, he spoke, quieter this time. “You should rest. You’re not alone in this, even if it feels that way.” And then he turned and left, the door clicking softly behind him.
Later, after he had left me to rest, I stood by the window watching snow fall in fat, lazy flakes beyond the glass. My hand remained pressed to my stomach, trying to process the reality of what was growing inside me.
A baby… our baby. The heir that would secure the alliance between our kingdoms and prove that our marriage had served its purpose. But even as relief flooded through me, a cold dread settled in my chest. Six weeks. That would put conception right around the time of our wedding night. But it could also...
My mind flew back to that desperate night with Leon, to the passion and heartbreak and reckless abandon that had led me to give him the one thing I was supposed to save for my husband. What if the timing was wrong? What if the baby wasn't Darius's at all?
I had never told him about Leon, had carried that secret like a stone in my chest since the day I arrived at the castle. If the child was Leon's, it would destroy everything, the alliance, the marriage, any chance of peace between our kingdoms.
I had no idea which man had given me the child growing inside my womb.