POV: Raevan
The council chamber did not empty after the verdict. It thickened.
Wolves who should have scattered to duties lingered instead, clinging to pillars, whispering in tight knots.
I still couldn't believe my ears.
I should have gone back to Soraya.
Every instinct pointed me toward the healing rooms, toward the quiet chamber where she lay fighting her own battles in sleep. But the elders wanted answers. The court wanted a spectacle. And I, stupidly, still thought there was one last thing that could not get worse.
I was wrong.
“Raevan.”
Elder Saren’s voice rolled through the chamber. He stood, leaning heavier than usual on his staff. The other elders flanked him, all grave faces and weighing eyes.
“We have received new information,” he said. “You must remain.”
I clenched my jaw. “Make it quick, then.”
The elder healer stepped forward, palms folded. Her expression was drawn, uneasy. “Alpha… I must correct my earlier statement.”
The murmurs sharpened.
I narrowed my gaze. “About what?”
“Azhara of Firemoon.” The healer swallowed. “I know you think she somehow tricked you, but she is with child.”
The chamber fell silent so completely I heard my heartbeat hammering in my ears.
“What?” The word tore from my throat.
“We tested her aura in haste,” the healer continued, eyes flicking away from mine. “She uses a veil charm—old, clumsy, but enough to confuse the first reading. When we cleansed it, the truth remained the same as it was the first answer. She carries an heir. Yours.”
My vision blurred at the edges.
The world tilted sideways. I reached for the nearest pillar just to stay upright.
No.
It couldn’t be.
The bond between Azhara and me was weak, half-broken by mistrust and poison. Nothing inside me sang in recognition, no instinct rose with protectiveness. There was only shock. Fury. A bitter, cold dread.
“You are certain,” I said slowly.
The healer nodded. “There is no mistake now.”
Gasps and curses crashed through the chamber. Some faces turned pitying. Others greedy. More than a few calculating.
Elder Vahan’s eyes glittered. “A future heir of Ashra shifts the balance. Punishment for Azhara will need to be reconsidered.”
I ground my teeth. “She still tried to kill Soraya.”
“No one disputes that,” Saren said wearily. “But the unborn will not pay for the mother’s sins. A line must be walked carefully.”
Of course. Politics. Bloodlines. Legacy.
A life forced into existence by a potion and betrayal now tethered to my name.
“This child,” another elder said, “changes nothing about your right to dissolve the betrothal later. But it changes how we treat her now. Guards will watch her. She will remain confined. But exile or execution are off the table.”
“You were speaking of exile a breath ago.”
“And then we learned it would also exile your heir,” Vahan replied crisply. “We protect the empire, Alpha. Even from our own mistakes.”
I stared at the brazier flames until my vision steadied. Azhara’s face sprang up behind my eyes: smug when she first declared it, shattered when the healer denied her, then something like desperate triumph as the truth finally rose through the veil.
Pregnant.
From that night.
The night she drugged me and slid into my bed while my mind drowned in hallucinations.
My stomach turned.
“Does Soraya know?” I asked suddenly.
The question dropped into the chamber like a stone into still water. Some elders frowned. Kaide, standing near the door, met my gaze with a shadow in his eyes.
“She will hear,” Saren said. “Rumors move faster than orders. You cannot hide this, Raevan.”
I knew that. But the thought of Soraya’s face—hurt, betrayed—cut deeper than any blade Zarek could wield.
“I’m done here,” I said.
“Raevan—” Vahan began.
“I said I’m done.”
I left before protocol could wrap itself around my throat.
The corridor outside was crowded with wolves who had no business near the council wing. Their eyes latched onto me, flicked toward each other, then down.
He has an heir.
Azhara carries his child.
What does that mean for Soraya?
The whispers clung to me like sand.
Kaide caught up quickly. “Raevan—”
“Later,” I snapped, harsher than he deserved.
He fell back, giving me space but not leaving.
I took the stairs two at a time, heart pounding. I needed air. I needed Soraya.
At the base of the steps, the hall opened into a wide balcony overlooking the inner courtyard. Wolves had gathered there, drawn by the scent of crisis.
I was halfway across the hall when I saw her.
Soraya.
She stood near a pillar with Vienne at her side. She looked too pale to be on her feet, but stubbornness straightened her spine. A loose robe wrapped around her, hiding bandages and exhaustion. Her hair fell over one shoulder, still wild from sleep.
Our eyes met.
Everything else disappeared.
For a heartbeat, relief flashed in her gaze. A tiny, fragile spark.
Then she heard it.
“Azhara is pregnant with the alpha’s child.”
It wasn’t shouted. Just a careless whisper, too close, too loud in the quiet.
The spark in her eyes died.
I saw the moment they landed. A flinch. A slight jerk of her shoulders. Her throat worked like swallowing shards. She didn’t look toward the speaker. She didn’t ask for details.
She just looked at me.
Tears filled her eyes, fast and hot.
My chest caved.
“Soraya—” I started, stepping toward her.
She took one step back.
No slap. No shouted accusation. No scene for the watching wolves.
Just one step.
Enough.
Her gaze held mine one last second, full of hurt and distance.
Then she turned.
“Vienne,” she murmured, voice steady by force, “take me back to my room.”
Vienne shot me a look of apology and anger tangled together. Then she looped an arm under Soraya’s and guided her away.
I stood in the center of my own fortress and realized something I had refused to see.
I could face Zarek. I could face war. I could face the entire desert.
But watching Soraya walk away from me… That was the one battle I did not know how to survive.